Chapter Delilah #2
I kiss him without needing a dare or an excuse. The innocence of kissing my first love makes the excitement flood back as he strokes my hair. I straddle him, tucking my knees to his hips, holding his face with my elbows flush to his chest just like I wanted to during our first kiss.
“I love you, Kane Xandros,” I say loudly. “In the light, in the dark. Only you. Even when I don’t know your name or I can’t see your face.”
“If you want me to put a mask on, you only have to ask instead of dropping little hints.”
“Maybe I want to wear one.” I wag my brows playfully, dropping my voice. “Or maybe this is all my game now.”
He bucks his hips as he abruptly turns so I’m on my back.
My head doesn’t hit the armrest of the sofa though, not with his hand providing a barrier despite the way he darkly says, “I’ve been in your game since I was six years old.
Never think for a fucking moment I haven’t belonged to you all along. ”
I tuck my cheek against the cushions, so his face covers the screen, but he looks to the side, a slow smirk taking over his face.
Kane
I sit my beautiful wife on my thighs with her back to my chest, her pulse erratically fluttering beneath her ear as she clenches her thighs together. I bunch the lace skirt of her dress in my fist and slowly pull it up to expose her legs. “If you close your eyes, I’ll make you come until you cry.”
Despite her thighs twitching, she softly argues, “You’re supposed to be nice to me. It’s our wedding night.”
“I am, koukla mou.” I kiss her shoulder. “You’re so pretty when you cry.”
“I hate this one,” she mumbles, forcing her eyes to remain open as she curls her shoulders forward.
“I know,” I coo, cupping her soaked cunt. “But you’re also beautiful when you’re scared. I love hearing your heart race, the way you twitch and your pretty little eyes flick around the room.”
Her breathing gets heavier as the haunting piano melody vibrates through the room. The camera pans through a field, revealing the birdmasked figure in the middle of a cornfield, half of his face obstructed by the husks then it slowly pans in.
“Kane,” she moans, half fearful, half excited.
“My needy little wife. Take your dress off.”
Our games have adjustments to account for me having one hand. Rather than force Delilah physically, I do it mentally.
“Or what?” she challenges.
“Or…I’ll tie you to the chair in the kitchen and get you close, so close your cunt is crying out for me and the air brushing your swollen clit is torturing you. But I won’t let you come until your eyes are swollen from all your pretty tears too.”
She looks into the open-plan kitchen, specifically at the style of the chair to see if it’s possible for me to restrain her.
My dick throbs at the memory of her tits bound in plastic, the red marks around her chest, thighs, and calves, how she cried after coming so many times.
When she looks at me, I know she’s going to move to stop me having my fun.
Delilah pushes her chest forward, instructing, “Pull my zipper down.”
My lips chase her skin as I move her hair over her shoulder, softly biting her nape while slowly unzipping her dress. “I love you,” I whisper into her hair. “But I will always fuck you like I hate you.”
“I love you too,” she whispers back as she brushes her dress down her beautiful naked body.
“Good girl,” I breathe out as I tap the plug in her ass. “Keep doing what you’re told then I’ll take this out to stretch you with my dick.”
Every scar she reveals is met with my lips as I pull her up my body to reach the faint stretch marks on her hips and lower stomach.
We won’t have any more children since I had a vasectomy, but the reminder of what she’s survived still fills me with awe that this tenacious woman is mine.
I was innocently fascinated with her as a child, as an old fuck—middle-aged physically, geriatric mentally—it’s more potent.
“Be a good little wife. Take my clothes off,” I order, setting her on her feet.
Buttons and belts are a pain in the ass to do up and remove. Another adjustment we’ve made since she always does them for me. It’s not infantilizing though, not when it becomes part of the game where I’m in control.
“Make. Me,” she says harshly.
“Now, koukla mou.” I snatch her neck as I hook my foot around her ankle, forcing her to her knees.
She’s cute as fuck with a small smile on her face, eyes narrowed.
I fucking love this woman more each day, with every part of my fucked up DNA.
Especially when she pushes her ass in the air as she slowly brushes my suit jacket off my shoulders.
The scene of the deranged doctor stalking those responsible for killing his family highlights the curve of her spine as she softly kisses my neck while undoing my buttons.
I’m so distracted by my wife’s lips working down my chest that I don’t realize what she’s doing until we get to the scene that scares her the most.
“Does my fearful little slut think I’ll let her hide?” I grip her hair at her scalp, roughly tugging her head back.
“Fuck me instead.” She innocently bats her lashes at me.
“It’s fine.” I kiss her cheek. “I know how to multitask.”
“Don’t you want to fuck your wife, Kane?” Those big blue eyes are solely fixed on me as she takes my dick out, stroking me from base to tip.
“Fuck,” I moan at her touch and claim.
“Exactly.” She smoothly straddles me, distracting me further as her lips brush mine. “Fuck…your wife.”
I stretch my arms on the back of the sofa to watch her as she lifts up, lining my dick up.
The flickering murder scene behind her casts her body in different shadows, highlighting parts of her curves while hiding others.
My wife is about to drop down on my dick with the same movie playing in the background as our first kiss.
“Scared?” I taunt her.
“I hate this part,” she whispers, flinching at the lights reflecting around us.
“Why are you dripping down my dick if you hate it?” I roughly thrust up into her as I grab her hair in my fist, pulling her head back, so she’s forced to watch the screen upside down while clenching around my dick. “There’s my little whore,” I coo, kissing her chest.
I bite down to her nipple, pull it between my teeth, then alternate the pressure until her moans match the frequency I want them to be.
“I have one arm, but that’s all I need to control my slutty wife,” I say, my voice deep with awe and lust. I slowly fuck her as she flinches at the horrific images of murder playing on the screen as I bite into her neck.
“Kane,” she moans, widening her thighs to get closer.
“Beg me. Beg me to abuse your tight little ass and make you fucking scream.”
“More,” she moans low in her throat.
I kick the table out of the way, sliding down to the floor so she’s forced to watch the movie.
Laying with my head flat on the floor, my feet propped on the sofa, and my wife sitting on my dick with her hands on my knees, I know I’m the luckiest fucker on the planet.
Delilah doesn’t need any instruction as she strokes up my thigh to carefully remove the plug from her ass.
But I don’t let her off my dick as I hold her hip, grinding up into her. “Come.”
She pushes up on her toes, tilting her hips forward as she plays with her tits while I spit up onto her clit. Her eyes flick from me to the screen as the creepy music plays, then quickly to the glass walls. She yelps when I flick my middle finger off her clit.
“I am the only fucking thing haunting you,” I grit.
I buck up, knocking her off-balance so she slides down onto my face, and pull her clit between my teeth.
Fear has always made her more eager, and now is no different as she rides my fucking face.
The intense music prevents her from noticing me grab the lube I hid earlier.
As much as she loves the pain when I fuck her ass, I want this—the first day of our married lives—to start differently than the other times, so I coat my dick while I work my tongue in her sweet cunt.
“Kane!” she screams, clenching as she grabs my hair. “Fuck!”
I don’t bring her down or give her time to recover as I slap my lubed fingers on her ass. Instead, I grab her arm to drag her back to her toes. “Sit your tight little ass on my dick.”
She’s dazed from her fear as she shakily stretches back to hold onto my thigh with one hand.
Taking my dick with the other, she slowly works me into her ass while the screen illuminates the way she stretches for me, her stomach constricting around her moans.
Moans only containing my name and a finger bearing my rings.
“Look at your needy fucking cunt weeping for me.” I slap the inside of her thigh, spitting on her clit.
“More.”
“What more do you need?” I scoff. “Should I shove my arm in you too?”
She. Fucking. Whimpers.
I’ve thought about doing it every single day, but it’s the one thing I’ve held back.
Fuck it, we’re only getting married once when we’re both conscious.
I press my fingers flat on her stomach, stilling her as she has half of my dick inside her ass then rub the soft, fleshy part of my stump where the muscle has atrophied against her clit, testing her reaction.
As always, she doesn’t shy away from me.
She moans at the friction on her clit, so I test her further, pushing my thumb against my stub to push inside of her.
She’s too tight to take me yet, so I continue rubbing her clit with my thumb as I work three fingers into her.
“Fuck!” Her eyes roll back. “Too much.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I snap, working another finger into her then my thumb. I slowly stretch my hand out, pinch my fingers together, before stretching them out again. When she starts rocking her hips to take more, I pull my hand free to slowly work the malleable part of my arm into her.