Chapter 40
Cynthia
Heat surrounds me, filling me up as I pull Charles even closer. I need him in me, on me, and all around me. Honestly, I don’t know exactly what will take this longing away, but I know he does.
With his strong hands, he spreads my thighs open and slides me down until his tip presses against my entrance. Just like last time. Just like the time he came inside me without inserting himself fully.
He comes down onto his forearms, caging my head as he whispers soothing words I can’t understand. I’m too far gone to understand. All I need is him. No words can ever suffice.
Then he slides in a touch. I feel him stretch me out. The burn is so very close to when he took my bottom. Only this time, I don’t care about the discomfort. I don’t care about any pain.
“Please, Charles,” I beg. “Please, just fill me. Take this ache away. I need you. Please.”
The scoundrel has the audacity to smile down at me and kiss the tip of my nose. Still, he stays there, barely moving. Barely breathing. He tortures me with his presence until I nearly scream with the need of his cock deep inside me.
Another little bit. Just a fraction. His jaw jumps as he watches me, studying my eyes just like he promised in the letter. I blink up at him, willing them to do whatever it is he needs them to do before he’ll make me his wife.
Everything is hazy as my mind threatens to fracture. The metal in my bottom, his cock at my entrance, and his lips hovering so very close to mine. He reaches down to tease my clit until tears of desperation leak down my face to wet my hair. And still, he barely moves.
“You’re so very tight, my love. Breathe for me. Relax into it. With the dilator in your arse, the fit will be even more snug.”
I watch him, studying his face as he makes a great show of breathing in and out. My chest grazes his as I match rhythm, allowing myself to just let go.
With each breath out, he pushes in just a little more, causing the dilator to shift inside.
Pitiful moans well up in my throat as I move my hips, desperate to have him impale me.
With a soft growl, he rises enough to smack my left breast before leaning down to lap at my nipple.
Pain. Pleasure. All of it as one. His actions rob me of air as I try to process the warring sensations.
“I’ll dictate the pace, oh impatient one,” he smirks. “Or have you forgotten?”
“Your pace is that of a snail,” I fire back. “I’m not altogether certain that he wouldn’t actually beat you in a race in that regard.”
He leans down closer, smiling in that maddening way of his. “Am I to understand you’d like a snail to take your virginity instead?”
“Of course not,” I cry out. “I only-” He slides all the way in while I’m distracted by this silly, playful quarrel, filling me in one long stroke.
The dilator in my bottom pushes out to make room for him, leaving my body just as fast as he entered.
In some ways, it’s a relief. In others, I oddly mourn its loss.
I stare at him in shock as the sensations catch up with me.
The burn, the sting, the heavy fullness of him finally deep inside me where he belongs.
I cannot formulate any words as I lie there, processing the emotions as they flit about inside of me. His cock is massive, stretching me to the breaking point, and yet, I live. He’s nestled within me with nary a thing tearing.
That is, except for that bit of flesh he said made me valuable to a husband. Tears of relief burn my eyes as I let out a guttural cry and wrap my legs around him. Finally, after all these years, after all the teasing and torment, I am his.
We lie there for what feels like an eternity, each wrapped up inside the other, as my body acclimates to the intrusion. My inner walls clench and release as he pulses deep inside. Such a maddening feeling having him there. Such a closeness, an intimacy I never dreamed possible.
He moves then, dragging out of me, only to slam back inside. Each thrust grazes some part of me inside, some hidden area I didn’t know existed until now. It causes a dull, pleasurable cramp to seize me as I lie there, helpless in his arms.
“That’s my good little wife,” he rasps out as he thrusts inside me again. “I shall never tire of feeling you clench around me. I’ve wanted you for too long. I’ve craved you for too long. You feel like heaven in my arms.”
His lips capture mine as he undulates in and out, joining us with such sweet ferocity that I cannot do anything but let him. Everything clenches and releases with his movements, like waves pounding against the shoreline. Each thrust takes me closer and closer to the release I so desperately need.
His fingers slide between us to tease my clit, bringing the heat, the need, and the desire to the forefront. I whimper and moan at his treatment of me as my body turns molten. My nails score his back as I arch my hips, desperate to be filled even more.
Chuckling, he pulls back. “Is my wife hungry? Does she crave violence?”
“Yes, husband. Do your worst.”
He pulls out again, and with a flip of his hands, he has me face down so that I’m once more buried in the sheets. Wrong. It’s all wrong. They bunch and gather at odd angles, and I so desperately need to push them away.
“You must be closer than I thought,” he murmurs as he undoes my necklace.
“Your fingers race about my sheets back and forth when you should be out of your mind with need.” There is no judgement in his voice as he eases my arms back, forcing my face into the pillow as he takes off the bracelets.
“I want your complete attention. Make your nest so that I may fuck you properly in it.”
As he pulls away, I turn around and reach for him, desperate for his touch. Though I whimper, he shakes his head, denying me. Why now? Why does he not give me what I need?
With a gentle grip on my chin, he turns my gaze to the floor where piles of sheets and blankets lie in neat heaps. His smile is tender and serene as he trails them down my cheeks before reaching in my hair to grab the last of the jewels. With that, he releases me.
My fingers itch as I pull away, ignoring his knowing chuckle. I dive into the mass, pulling and pushing, making them into sensible nooks and crannies. A nest. My nest. Our nest.
I barely notice Charles as he circles, stroking his cock. All I can think about is place and order. It’s not right yet. There’s something missing. Glancing out of the mountains of sheets and blankets, I spy his clothes from the wedding. I tear past him and grab hold, tossing them into the fray.
I keep working, keep moving until finally, there’s nothing left to do. Glancing around, whimpers flit from my lips as I grip my waist. Heat and need pour out of me as I drip onto the sheets.
“Such a pretty nest, wife. Perfection. Just like you. Now, invite me in so that I may fuck that pretty little pussy and pretty little arsehole until you can’t even remember your own name.”
“Please, Charles. Please. I need you. Please.”
He drags over a bowl filled with water and leaves it just outside before he crawls in. “On your hands and knees, wife. I wish to take this arsehole before your heat muddies your senses. I want you to feel me sliding into you, giving you pleasure instead of pain.”
His tip slides in easily, just like the dilator. As he pushes forward, I can’t help but gasp as he stretches me even fuller. The dilators were still far too small. He’s massive, large. The girth of him nearly tears me asunder.
“Shhhh, wife,” he croons as he slides his fingers down my spine. “You’re taking me so well. I wish you could see just how your body opens for me, how it takes me in.”
Cries of pleasure flit from my lips as I arch my back, forcing more of him into me. When he reaches around to play with my clit, I am lost to the pleasure of his fingers, his body, all of it.
Each move sparks a deeper need in me. I must have him harder, faster. With a soft grunt, I throw my hips back, showing him what I need. The bastard chuckles in my ear as he pinches my clit.
“I hear you, wife.”
He pulls back out and slams into me, taking my bottom hole in a punishing pace. Crying out, I dig my fingers into the nest, holding on as my body takes the brutality of his strokes.
Lights dance before my eyes as his fingers cruelly tug and pinch at my clit. Sobs of need drip from my lips as my slick coats the sheets below. So close. I’m so very, achingly close.
With one more hard pinch, everything in me shatters. My body seizes up as pleasure flows through me, forcing me to cry out until I’m nearly hoarse. As with this morning, the sensations keep going. On and on they surge and ebb until, finally, I sag forward, completely wrung out.
Charles pulls out of me and walks over to the basin, taking a small rag so he can run it along his cock, cleaning up after our bout. I watch him through hooded eyes as he crawls back in and pulls me forward for a searing kiss.
He worships my body with his lips and tongue, leaving no part untouched. I moan and writhe as desperation coats my insides once more. It’s not enough. It will never be enough.
“Now then, my beautiful wife. Care to go for a ride?”