Chapter 34 #2

The thought surfaces through the haze of pleasure. I’m wearing his ring. I uttered vows. It makes every touch feel more weighted and meaningful.

The second orgasm builds faster than the first, pleasure coiling tight in my core. I’m so sensitive, every stroke of his tongue makes me whimper. When the release hits, I scream his name, my hips grinding against his face despite the restraints, shameless.

He pulls back, his chin glistening. His chest heaves as he fights for control, and my gaze drops to his cock, rigid against his stomach. The veins stand out along the length, the head flushed dark and weeping.

He wants to be inside me so badly. It’s written all over his face, in the way his fingers flex against my thighs, his gaze locked on my soaked core.

His mouth finds my clit again and I nearly sob, the sensation too much. I try to pull away but the restraints keep me spread and helpless, at his mercy.

“Please, I can’t. It’s too much,” I sob, tears streaming down my face.

“Yes, you can.” His voice is rough, commanding. “One more for me, moya zhena. Show me you can take what I give you.”

Moya zhena. My wife.

The Russian phrase wraps around my heart and squeezes. He could have said it in English but he didn’t. He chose our language, the one connecting us to the same brutal world, the same blood and history.

The third orgasm builds slower but more intense, like it’s being hauled up from some hidden depth.

He twists his finger in my ass and slides two back into my pussy, finding that devastating spot inside me, the one making my vision go white.

One more hard suck on my clit and I break apart.

I sob his name as every muscle in my body convulses, and then something happens I’ve never experienced before.

Liquid rushes out of me, coating his mouth and chin.

“Holy fuck, what did I do?”

I’m mortified. I’ve read about this but I’ve never done it, never lost control of my body like this.

“Fuck, that was so hot,” he rasps.

“I-I’ve never done that before,” I whisper.

“That’s because no one’s ever fucked you as well as I do. And no one ever will again.”

“You sound pretty confident about that.”

“I am.” He brushes his thumb across my bottom lip and the tenderness of it undoes me. “Because you’re mine now, Dinara. And I don’t share.”

I open my mouth to tell him he’s delusional, that this marriage doesn’t mean anything, that I’ll never really belong to him. But I can’t. Not when every word would be a lie.

I’ve been falling for him this whole time and I just didn’t want to admit it. Every time he looked at me. Every time he made me feel safe. Every time he called me his.

It’s twisted to want this ring to mean something, or to want any of this to be real… but I do.

Tomorrow I’ll worry about how messed up this is. But right now I just want to feel.

My gaze drops to his cock and raw hunger surges through me. I want him in my mouth. I want to make him lose control the way he just made me lose control.

“I want to taste you,” I breathe.

His eyes darken as he reaches up and releases my wrists. My arms drop, trembling from being held up for so long. He moves to my ankles next, unhooking the restraints and freeing my legs. Every muscle aches but I don’t care. All I want is this.

I sit up slowly, my body quivering with exhaustion and renewed arousal. He stands beside the bed and fists his cock, giving it slow strokes until my mouth waters.

“On your back,” he tells me. “Head toward the edge of the bed.”

I obey, positioning myself exactly how he wants me. My pulse races. I’ve given blow jobs before but this feels different. Like I’m giving him something that matters, something I can’t take back.

“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs, and the praise makes warmth bloom in my chest.

He slowly guides his cock past my parted lips. His taste explodes across my tongue, salt and musk and something uniquely him. I hollow my cheeks and suck, taking him deeper, and the groan rumbling from his chest makes power surge in my veins.

“Fuck. Just like that.”

He braces one hand on the bed and leans forward… and holy fuck. His cock in my mouth, his tongue on my clit. I moan around him.

We find a rhythm. He fucks my mouth in shallow thrusts, eating me like he’s starving for it, both of us chasing pleasure, giving and taking in equal measure.

My hand grips his thigh, my nails digging in hard enough to leave crescents in his skin. I want to mark him. I want him to wake up tomorrow and see the evidence of what we did, proof that I was here, that this mattered.

He increases the pressure on my clit, sucking hard, and my body tenses. The orgasm crashes through me and I come with my lips wrapped around him, my muffled moans vibrating against his length.

He pulls back and I force my eyes open, meeting his gaze. He’s watching me like I’m the most devastating thing he’s ever seen, like he wants to memorize every detail.

“That’s it, take all of me,” he growls, and I relax my throat, letting him push deeper.

His cock swells, his thighs go rigid beneath my hand, and then he’s coming. Hot jets hit the back of my throat and I swallow, taking everything he gives me.

“Drink it all,” he commands through gritted teeth. “Every last drop is for you.”

“Fuck!” He throws his head back, his body shuddering as I drain him.

Pride surges through me as I swallow around him, milking every last drop of his release. He tastes like mine. My husband.

He pulls out carefully. My jaw aches and my throat burns, but I’ve never felt better. I made him lose control. I took him apart like he took me apart.

“I used you hard, solnyshko, but you did so good. So fucking good.”

The praise makes my skin flush. I’ve never cared about praise before, never needed it. But hearing it from him feels different. Like something I want to earn again and again.

When he lowers himself beside me and pulls my back against his chest, I don’t protest. His arms wrap around my waist and I sink into the warmth of him.

His breath evens out against my neck and the tension I’ve been carrying since he found me in Spider’s apartment finally loosens its grip.

My eyes grow heavy and I let myself drift, still wrapped in his arms, still wearing his ring.

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