ANTONIO #2
Or perhaps it’s just the way she’s looking at me right now, as she snakes her legs around me, taking control in whatever way she can.
I love the way she looks at me, her eyes bleary and consumed by sheer lust, as though there’s room for nothing else but the two of us, our bodies coming together like they’ve been made for each other.
My wife. My wife. That notion pushes me even further, a feral possessiveness rising up inside of me, and I drive myself deep, starting to fuck her into the bed as she gasps and moans.
“Fuck, yes,” I growl, brushing my lips across hers, her hands still pinned above her head.
Her wrists are so small that I only need one hand to keep her place, and I use the other to roam greedily all over her body, grasping at her breasts, her thighs, her ass—reminding myself of how fucking good she feels, of how there’s almost nothing I would do to get her off.
I stroke deep inside of her, slowing the pace, forcing myself to savor every moment of this. I have no idea when, if ever, I’ll let it happen again, but right now, all that matters is this.
She’s gazing up at me like she wants to commit this moment to memory, and I know just how she feels.
With the long gap between our encounters, it’s hard not to feel like we need to hang on to this one with everything we’ve got.
Her ankles dig in to my thighs, pushing me even deeper inside of her, and I let my full weight on top of her so I can grind against her clit with every thrust.
I press my face into her neck, and I can hear her breathing in my ear, how ragged it’s getting already as her body starts to give in to the sheer intensity of our connection.
She might only have come a few minutes ago when I was going down on her, but I can hear from the edge to her breath that she’s going to come again soon, and I’ll do anything to make it happen.
I stir my hips against her before picking up the pace, responding to each shift in her breathing, her voice, her thudding heartbeat against my chest.
And it isn’t long before she gives me what I want.
She must know how badly I need it, and she seems unable to deny it too, as she shudders beneath me, her thighs quivering on either side of me, her pussy pulsing and tightening around me as if she’s trying to squeeze every drop from me.
As soon as I feel her finish, I go over the edge myself, the sheer satisfaction of knowing that I’ve gotten her off enough to take me where I need to go too.
I groan as I bottom out inside of her, driving myself to the hilt and stilling there as my cock fills her with my seed.
There’s something primal about taking her like this, no protection, as risky as I know it is.
But I need to feel every part of her, the deepest, neediest parts of her that respond to me and me alone.
There’s no satisfaction like it, like feeling the squeezing tension of her pussy as she comes around me, and I hold myself there for a long time, reluctant to pull back, reluctant for this to be over yet.
I finally release her hands, and she strokes them down my back, along the nape of my neck, letting her nails drag against my skin with a lazy graze.
I’m breathing hard, eyes closing as I breathe her in again, hands resting on her thighs as I hold myself inside of her.
I know I should pull back, but fuck it, when she feels this good, there’s no damn reason to.
By the time I finally ease myself out of her, she’s breathing hard, her face flushed, her dress laid open on the bed around us. And she watches me as though there’s still something on her mind.
I look over at her, brow furrowed. “What is it?” I ask her, and she reaches for me, tangling her fingers with mine. Even after what we’ve just done, there is something oddly intimate about it, something closer and more intense than anything we’ve shared before.
“Will you stay with me here tonight?” she murmurs, her eyes brimming with hope.
At once, something in me softens. “Of course I will,” I reply, without thinking.
I’m sure it will raise some eyebrows among the staff, but fuck it, I’m the one calling the shots here. And besides, she’s my wife. Shouldn’t I be sleeping next to her every chance I get? I’m not going to let anyone cast judgment on it, that’s for goddamn sure.
As I lie down beside her, I reach to pull her into my arms—she shrugs off the dress and snuggles against me, and soon I hear her breathing start to smooth out as she begins to fall asleep.
I run my hand through her hair absently, watching the pulse of her vein beneath the skin of her neck.
And as I watch her rest, it strikes me that this is the first time I’ve slept next to a woman in a long time.
It was a rule I’d put in place a long time ago, intended to keep anyone who came close to me safe…
And yet, she has been able to make me break it like it’s nothing. I’m starting to get the feeling that there are many, many things she could ask me to do that might go against what I know is best for me…
And I don’t give a single damn about any of them. Not as long as I get to lie here in bed and hold her.