Chapter 22 #2
There’s no hesitation.
She inhales softly, then does exactly as I ask, turning within the circle of my arms until her back is to me, her body still close enough that I can feel the warmth of her through the thin barrier of fabric, close enough that I can see the delicate rise and fall of her breathing along the line of her spine.
For a moment, I don’t move.
I just stand there, transfixed.
At the way the black lace clings to her, at the elegant sweep of her back, at the small, almost imperceptible tension in her shoulders that tells me she feels everything—the air, the height, me.
I love foreplay… I love making my companion come completely undone…hearing them whisper their secrets, watching them fall apart, like they’re greeting God or losing themselves entirely… but fuck…
I just want to fuck her.
To press my solid cock at her entrance and sheathe myself inside her. Lift her clean off her feet and feel the friction we make.
Fuck.
Gentlemen, start your motherfucking engines.
I swear to God, the Mario Kart race start sound starts beeping in my brain.
Slowly, deliberately, I lift my hands to her hair, gathering the wild fall of red curls and sweeping them over her shoulder, exposing the long line of her neck, the soft, vulnerable curve where her pulse flickers beneath her skin.
“Beautiful…” The word is quieter now, rougher, meant more for myself than for her.
My knuckles brush lightly down her spine as I find the zipper, the contact featherlight at first, testing, teasing, before I let my fingers settle properly, anchoring there for a beat that stretches just long enough to make her aware of exactly what I’m about to do.
Then, slowly, I begin to pull it down. My hands shake a little, and I reign them in.
I want to tear it to fucking pieces. Just grab the top hem and yank it apart, like a pro wrestler.
But, no, I execute the utmost restraint and care, going half mad.
The sound is soft, almost lost beneath the distant hum of the city below, but between us it feels deafening, each inch of movement unhurried, as the dress loosens beneath my hand, the tension in the fabric giving way piece by piece.
I don’t rush it.
I drag it out.
Because this, this moment right here, isn’t just about getting her out of the dress.
It’s about making her feel it.
Every second.
Every breath.
Every inch of my control tightening and slipping all at once. Gonna give myself blue balls if this keeps on much longer…
The zipper reaches its end.
I don’t move straight away.
I let my hand rest there for a moment, splayed low against her back, holding her in place, letting the night air kiss the newly exposed skin while my gaze drags slowly, possessively, over what I’ve revealed. Not taking.
Not yet.
Just reminding her—exactly who stands behind her. Who will always stand behind her. Because no matter what choices my wife makes in this life, I will be there—behind her, beside her, surrounding her completely. Until death do us part.
Fucking hell, even past then.
I came back for her. Her mind. Her heart. Her soul. Her body.
Some people say like calls to like. But with us, it’s something more. Introvert and batshit extrovert. Calm and chaos.
We are the fucking waves in the ocean.
The only difference between us is that she still believes she’s too weak to fight. But I see the depth in her—the call of the abyss she’s refused, no matter how shit the situation she’s been in.
Maybe right now she thinks she has no fight.
But I’ll be there when she realizes she’s stronger than me.
Until then…
I’ll fight for both of us.
I will fight until my knuckles split and bleed, until my body gives out beneath me, until there is nothing left to take—until my last breath leaves my lungs and my heart finally stops beating.
Because this… this right here…
She is my peace. My heart. My future. I feel every shift in her breathing, every subtle tremor beneath my hands as the dress slips over her curves, skimming her hips before falling in a dark pool at her feet.
For a moment, neither of us moves.
Then she steps out of it.
She nudges the discarded lace aside with a careless motion of her foot, and something about that—about the quiet confidence in it, the absence of hesitation—lands deep in my chest.
My hands settle more firmly at her hips from behind, my grip tightening just enough to make my presence undeniable as I guide her forward those final inches.
“Hands on the railing,” I murmur against her ear, my voice low, my own heartbeat racing in my chest.
I take her wrists and lift them, placing her hands against the cool metal in front of her, my fingers lingering just long enough to feel the contrast between the chill of the railing and the heat of her skin.
“I’m going to eat your pussy here, baby.
Then I’m going to fuck you. Hard.” I lick a path from her shoulder up her neck, taking the lobe of her ear between my teeth.
“And then, maybe I’ll take this hole as well.
” I take her ass cheeks in my hands, sinking my fingers into the soft flesh.
“Do you want me to fuck you here, baby?” Her pale skin reddens under my touch.
“Yes. God, Trey, yes.” Sera groans. A zap of pleasure shoots down my spine and my abs tighten at her words.
My restraint snaps and I tear the thin lace panties from her, the rip echoing around us as I let the ruined lace flutter to the ground, nudging her legs further apart with my foot.
Fuck, I liked those… If this was one of those wire game things, where you touch the wire and it buzzes, I would have to go back to the start. ..
“I want you to make me feel alive,” she whispers, voice trembling with need.
I lean in close, sinking my teeth into her throat—light nips, a slow suck.
She wants to feel alive?
Call me a neck-romancer.
Get it? Like a necromancer who raises the dead?
Fuck.
Sex really should be an Olympic sport with an audience, because I’d absolutely take gold for this.
Shut up, you moron, and fuck her.
Ignoring my inner whatever-the-fuck-it-is, I whisper…
“Keep your hands on the railing,” lowering to my knees, my hands gliding slowly up her thighs. I see just how wet she is—how perfect her body is, the way it tempts me to break it, even though I’m supposed to put her back together.
No woman has ever done this to me. They were faceless, placeholders for a quick thrill, fleeting and forgettable. Seraphina is nothing like that. She is beneath my skin, running through my blood, and I’d do anything for her. She makes me lose control.
I hook her leg over my shoulder, her bare ass touching the metal railing draws a gasp of shock, but I am there as her rock, her anchor to keep her steady.
I drag a finger through her folds, eliciting a soft whimper as I part her thighs further, then dive in.
My tongue ravishes her, one finger sliding inside, then a second, curling just right to hit that magic spot.
Her legs begin to tremble uncontrollably as I suck on her clit.
“Trey…oh God, please…”
I wrench my lips from her clit. “Scream my name as you come on my face.” I plunge my tongue into her again, and she shamelessly rides me, rocking back and forth with abandon. Leaning into me, her back arching like she wants me to fucking consume her, and I intend to.
Her breathing hitches, her hand comes off the railing and grips my hair. Just as I can feel her teetering on the edge, I pull back and swat her pussy firmly.
“Trey!” she screams, her orgasm crashing over her with a force I haven’t felt from her in a long time. I lick and swallow every drop of her release before sliding out from underneath, steadying her legs so she doesn’t collapse.
“I said, keep your hands on the railing. Dove.”
I rise in front of her. She stumbles slightly, blinking, eyes hazy and unfocused. I turn her gently back toward me, pulling her in and kissing her again.
Our tongues meet, slow and unsteady—drunk on each other.
I reach behind her, quickly undoing her bra.
Her breasts spill free into my hands, and I cup and roll her nipples between my fingers while kissing and sucking along her neck, feeling her pulse shiver beneath my touch.
I undo my trousers, shoving them down my thighs along with my boxers, my cock springing free, hard and slick with anticipation.
I want nothing more than to fuck her hard and fast like an animal, but this requires a careful, deliberate approach.
My piercings catch the light from behind me as I grab the base, sliding it through her wet pussy toward her back hole while she writhes against me.
“Are you sure you—”
“Yes! Just fuck me already!” she groans, voice ragged.
The mouth on my fallen nun…
I slap her ass. “Patience, baby. I don’t want this to hurt unnecessarily.” I coat my cock with her juices and bend her over further, spitting on her hole. I gather her hair in my fist and tug it so she’s looking back at me. “Suck,” I command softly, pressing two of my fingers into her mouth.
She opens instantly, wrapping her tongue around them, sucking hard. Once they’re wet, I pull them from her mouth and kiss her deeply, tasting her.
I circle one finger around her back hole before slowly thrusting inside, breaching that impossibly tight ring of muscle.
Motherfucker, she’s tight. I lean over, kissing her deep and filthy, matching the rhythm of my thrusts to my tongue in her mouth.
It doesn’t take long for her to start grinding back on my finger, so I carefully push a second one in alongside the first. My cock is rock hard as she whimpers and moans into my mouth, and I scissor my fingers inside her, stretching her as best as I can.
“Trey, please,” she begs over my lips. “I want you inside me. I want to feel the stretch, the pain. I want to feel alive…with you.”
Jesus fucking Christ. I’ll never stop being thankful for the day I walked into that church and tied my fate to this beautiful, fucking nun, bent over and begging for my cock in her ass.
“Baby, I’m big, and you’ve never taken a cock in your ass before.”
If she was an altar boy, however… they get all the action.
That’s fucked.
Precisely.
“I can take you,” she says, grinding back against me.
I laugh. “It’ll hurt.”
“It’s okay. I trust you.”
Motherfucking shit.
“I’m trying to take it easy on you.” I pull my fingers free and position myself at her back entrance, pushing in slowly, letting the crown of my cock slip inside.
“Oh, God,” she moans, hands tightening around the railing.
“Jesus, baby. You’re such a good girl.”
“Mmm. Fuckkk,” she breathes, and I grin at her rare curses coming out tonight. My baby doesn’t swear—and God, it turns me on even more. I didn’t think that was possible right now, but here we are.
“You’re doing so well, baby.”
“I am?” Her pupils dilate at my praise, and she pushes back, taking another few inches. “Oh, God. Oh fuck!”
“Yeah, baby. You’re strangling my cock like a very good girl.” I reach around her and rub her clit, pinching it between my fingers.
The second she moans, head thrown back, I slam all the way in. Her whimpers echo around us, her body trembling. I let her adjust, and we both breathe harshly, her erotic sounds nearly undoing me.
Fuck, that was risky, almost snapped my cock off.
“I need you to relax for me, baby. Can you do that?” I trail a hand gently up and down her spine. Once I feel her softening, I push into her with slow, shallow thrusts, feeling my piercings rub deliciously against her. I go deeper, faster, letting the sounds of her pleasure fill the balcony air.
“How does it feel, baby?”
“Mm. Good. You feel so good, Trey.”
I’m on the edge of losing myself, both from how impossibly tight she is and how fucking incredible she looks, her breasts bouncing with each thrust, teeth sinking into her lip.
“I love the way you claim me, the way you make me feel like I’m yours,” she whispers.
“Because you are,” I growl, slamming forward as she presses back into me.
“Yes!”
“I’m going to fill you with my cum so everyone knows you’re mine, wife.
” Her lips part, tightening around me, and I fist her hair, yanking her head back for a rough, violent kiss as I assault her clit.
Rubbing, rolling and pinching. My wife is as insatiable as I am; I can never get enough, never close enough, never deep enough.
“Come with me,” she whispers against my mouth, clenching around me.
“Please, Trey, please,” she begs, and I thrust deeper, releasing my hold on her hair to wrap my hand around her throat. I groan into her kiss as the rush of my orgasm hits, spilling into her, my cock pulsing deep inside her as teeth and tongue claim her lips.
I pull back slowly, each bump, and ripple exquisite and excruciating from my piercings. Slowly and surely I slip free, and watch as my cum spills down her legs. She shivers in my arms, trembling, her lips swollen and bruised from my punishing kisses.
Without a word, I sweep her into my embrace, pressing her chest to mine, turning her gently so our eyes meet. She sighs, melting into me, and I can’t resist a slow, careful kiss, letting her respond with everything she has, letting the fire of her sighs wash over me.
Her hands rest on my shoulders, her heartbeat wild against my chest, and I simply hold her, drinking her in—the scent, the warmth, the weight of her pressed against me. The world shrinks until there is nothing but us, and a low, rough chuckle escapes me.
“Let’s get cleaned up, wife,” I murmur, my voice husky.
She nods, forehead resting against mine, both of us still caught in the afterglow of what we’ve just shared, neither of us quite willing to let go.
But before the evening can taper off into silence and rest, my cock twitches, reminding me there’s still more work to be done.
Carrying her like this isn’t nearly as hard on my knife wound as I thought it might be… and maybe, just maybe, the little bit of pain was worth it anyway.
Ding. Ding. Ding.
Round two.