30. Nico
Nico
“Don’t stop.”
Her words are my command.
The pillow robs me of her full rapture when she comes with a muffled moan soon after. I’m half tempted to drag another orgasm out of her, but I already came like a horny teenager on the sheets earlier and don’t want a repeat of that.
Raising her hips a bit more, her gorgeous ass is too tempting for my sanity. I want to lick her again. Everywhere. I can’t get enough of this woman.
“Nico?” she whispers. She’s got a death grip on the pillow. She feels vulnerable.
“I would slice off my ears and stab my own eyes out before I’d hurt you. Will you trust me?” I murmur, rubbing her ass cheeks as I rise to my knees.
She nods and shudders when the head of my cock brushes her entrance.
Slow, I remind myself. I take my time sliding my cock through her pussy lips, wetting it with her arousal, making sure to give her clit plenty of attention.
Her fists unclench and she rocks back experimentally, meeting my gentle thrusts.
“Fuck, yes, tesoro, like that,” I groan.
She looks back over her shoulder at me, her guileless curiosity doing things to my carefully guarded heart. Focusing on her beautiful body again, I reach around to rub her clit some more. Writhing and twisting, she tries to turn, but I prevent that. “Touch yourself for me, Matilde.”
“My stepmother…”
“What did we say about her?”
Her satiny cheek turns pink as she obeys my earlier command, her fingers fumbling between her thighs and cautiously brushing over my cock as she does. My balls tighten dangerously. Goddammit, I’m not coming again until my cock is fully buried in her pussy.
I unwrap a condom from the bedside table. Matilde’s hand falls away, and she tenses. “I told you last night they’re not latex.”
“It is not the allergy,” she replies, switching to Italian in her discomfort.
“It is the sound. It reminds me… of that doctor. The gloves and cold gel and the exam. My virginity made me more valuable to them but all I felt was degradation. I don’t know why the sound makes me think of it.
I don’t even know if he was a real doctor. ”
I grow so still with rage a shotgun going off next to me wouldn’t make me flinch.
That doctor. The man the traffickers used, that piece of shit who violated my wife.
Those fucking cockroaches who captured her, who dared to touch her and hold her captive.
And whoever is at the top of that pyramid making the most profit from those stolen girls, I am going to slaughter them all.
Swallowing hard, I return my attention to my young wife.
She doesn't need to see my fury. I will protect her from everything, including my dark nature as best I can. I wish she’d let me turn the light back off so I could hold her close during sex.
Considering what she endured, I doubt she’d appreciate a blindfold.
Instead, I pull her up to her knees so that my arms are wrapped around her torso, her back against my chest. Kissing her neck and lightly kneading her breasts, I work on relaxing her again. Her nipples are soon tight little pebbles as I consider our alternatives. “When was your last period?”
“It finished right before the wedding.”
“Are they regular?”
Her cheeks flush pinker when she whispers, “Yes.”
“I’ll pull out before I come this time. Is that okay?” A nod. “Would you want to go on the pill? No more condoms if you wish. I sure as hell won’t complain about no barrier between us.”
She twists her neck, her eyes locked on mine when she asks, “You will be faithful, you said.”
“I swear it,” I vow, placing my hand over my tattoo.
She gives me another slow nod, so I continue kissing her throat, savoring her soft skin and delicious scent. She swivels her neck again, seeking, and I can’t deny her. Our lips meet for an awkward but desperate kiss.
The sixth kiss for her.
The seventh for me.
She wonders when she’ll lose count of our kisses.
I know I never will.
When I have her pussy dripping for me once more, Matilde sinks back down to her elbows, jutting her ass against my groin.
Her inner muscles are still tight, so I’m careful as I push my way inside.
My eyes nearly cross from the sensation, but I keep still once I’m in, waiting for her body to adjust, not wanting to cause her pain.
“Speak to me. Tell me if I’m hurting you,” I say in Italian.
“It’s okay. I want this.”
Slowly, I begin to thrust. “I won’t last long,” I warn her. Or perhaps she’s grateful for that. Margareta would’ve been. No sooner than I think it, I shut her out of my mind. I don’t want the bitterness of my first marriage to poison this one.
Gradually, her walls soften around me enough that I earn a moan.
I feel like pumping my goddamn fist, and praise rushes past my lips.
What a beautiful bride she was. How lovely her skin feels and how sweet she smells.
How fantastic her pussy feels wrapped around my cock. How I could eat her all night.
“Mangiami,” she says, giggling.
“Yes, I love eating you.” I bite down on her neck, marking her as mine like last night. She gasps, and my free hand slips back between her legs, teasing, stroking and lightly pinching her clit until her breathy pants fill the room.
As my thrusts speed up, she has no choice but to sink into the mattress. I wrap her hair around one of my fists. “So soft, so wild, so perfect,” I rasp, relishing her whimpered cries for more.
My movements grow more forceful as I approach my climax. I pull out before slamming back into her. “I want you to come again, wife. Touch yourself for me. Rub your greedy little clit while I fuck you.”
"I can't-"
"You can. She doesn't rule over your life or our marriage bed. Fucking pleasure yourself. I know you can. I want you to come for me again."
With enough coaxing, she does as I say and, before long, she comes, crying out my name, a sound I already know I will never grow tired of.
I praise her, my brave girl, telling her how good she is, how I knew she could do it.
Then, the merest touch of her fingers brushing my balls has me nearly forgetting what I promised her a few minutes ago.
Though I like the idea of getting her pregnant, I jerk back quickly to avoid the slight chance of it tonight. Someday.
Coming harder than I ever have, my release paints her backside. That same irresistible curiosity shines in her eyes when she reaches back, swiping some of it… to taste.
“Fuck me,” I mutter, utterly overcome. She laughs, saying I already did that to her.
Every muscle in my body sings out for me to collapse on the bed and to drag her on top of me. I want us to kiss, touch and talk for hours. Pure fantasy. Besides, on my cock and between her thighs, there’s light pink blood visible. Only her second time.
“Let’s take a shower to clean you up.”
I rise from the bed and help her stand. I can feel her big brown eyes examining me.
In the shower, I turn her toward the water and occupy myself by washing her back.
Once she’s drying off, I turn the light back off in the bedroom, changing the sheets and methodically shutting down my reckless emotions while she brushes her teeth.
When she lays down beside me at last, I can feel how much she wants to reach out and touch me. I want that, too.
But I already care more about Matilde than I ever expected to.
And that thought, coupled with my failures, scares the hell out of me.