Chapter 15
Benedict
Beneath my hands, she freezes.
‘You don’t want to?’ I ask. Fuck. Maybe I misread the situation, but there’s no blood flow left in my brain.
Her glossy brown hair hangs over her face, and I remove a hand from her arse so I can push it back, gratified to note that her eyes are still glazed as fuck after that epic orgasm I gave her.
Take that, Rollo, you useless fuck.
‘I do. I’m just not sure about… being on top.’
A lightbulb goes off in my blood-deprived brain.
Got it. I’ve been assuming that missionary was too caveman for the first time and that what I’d like to do—flip her over and plough into her from behind—was too caveman for the complete opposite reason, so I figured her on top would be a good compromise for her.
But she’s self-conscious. Makes total sense.
This is Slinks we’re talking about. I may have loosened her up right now, but she’s not about to writhe around on my cock for me like some porn star when we’ve only just got naked together.
‘Got it,’ I say, reaching down and hooking a hand under one toned thigh. ‘Give me a sec—sit on me.’
She frowns but does as I say, and I push myself upright, bracing on one hand behind me.
She’s watchful and so fucking beautiful I’m almost speechless.
I can’t quite believe she allowed herself to let go like that, but it was a miracle.
Turns out my very own little ice queen is hot as hell beneath that icy exterior.
Fuck, is this worth the wait. All those years of flirting and observing and wondering idly how she’d taste, how she’d feel from the inside out…
Like nectar. Like heaven. That’s how.
I kiss her again as my poor, neglected dick thumps needily against her belly. ‘Now will you get on my cock?’
‘Yeah.’ She rests one hand on my shoulder for balance and raises herself up on her knees, wrapping long, slender fingers around my dick.
Fuck, that feels good. My eyes dart all over her as she positions it at her entrance, her wetness and my precum providing ample slipperiness.
I’ll eat my hat if she needs that lube she was worrying about.
I take in her face, still flushed, the plumpness of her lower lip as she bites down on it, my gaze meandering down past her perfect tits and flat stomach to the neat line of hair and the place where my dick is slowly disappearing inside her body.
She’s wet, but she’s tight. I discovered that when I finger-fucked her, and now, as her inner walls clamp around my cock, I’m discovering it all over again.
My wife’s cunt is definitely the sexual Garden of Eden.
As she impales herself carefully upon me, I kiss her again.
Her breathy little moans of effort—and hopefully pleasure—aren’t doing my ability to hold myself together any favours.
I’ve been hard since she kissed me, ready to blow since I tasted her, and am now hanging by a thread—although the prospect of fucking Slinky bare and then blowing inside this tight little channel is marvellously galvanising.
This is a pretty shit position for either of us getting maximum friction, but it’s good for intimacy, and I suspect that’s what she needs in this moment.
Besides, my hot little bride is naked and sitting on my cock a mere eight days after our wedding, which in my view is a massive win.
I was worried it would take weeks, or even months, for her to come around.
If she hadn’t erupted so spectacularly just now, if I couldn’t still taste the sweetness of her orgasm on my tongue, I’d be feeling seriously guilty that this really was a pity fuck on her part.
An hour ago, I was toasting the passing of my father. Now, my entire body is a live wire vibrating with need, an unexploded grenade thanks to this lovely creature and her magical pussy. I brace more firmly on my hand and kiss her again before murmuring, ‘Can you move?’
It turns out, she absolutely bloody can. It also turns out, Slinky is the perfect nickname for her as she slinks her soaking pussy experimentally up and down my cock like it’s a greased pole.
Jesus fuck.
The only thoughts I’m conscious of are ones where I feel extraordinarily satisfied—smug AF, if we’re being honest here—at the knowledge that she’s mine.
I got her.
She’s the one woman who’s always been out of bounds for me, and I’ve been the one guy who couldn’t step in to give her a spin before she tied the knot with my brother.
She’s the jewel in any crown, an absolute knockout, and through some devious, magical concoction involving a whole lot of impulse and bravado on my part and very little actual due diligence, she’s ended up with me and me alone.
My smugness in this moment only increases at the bitchy thought that there was no way Xav could have given her that orgasm just now.
My brother may have moves—God knows, Ivy’s fallen for them, and she’s a connoisseur—but there’s no way in hell he would ever have got Slinks comfortable enough to fall apart like that.
She and I may be the most farcical opposites I’ve ever encountered, but clearly, we’re majorly compatible in one respect. Complementary, you might say.
I may be focused on making her feel comfortable here, but I have to ask the question that’s been teasing my consciousness for a long, long time.
I let my free hand roam encouragingly over the soft skin of her back as she finds her rhythm, and ask, ‘Have you ever fantasised about us like this?’ She sits down on my cock and stares at me, her beautiful hazel eyes going round and nervous.
‘Because I have,’ I reassure her. ‘Every filthy fucking way you can imagine.’
Her mouth drops open. ‘Really?’
‘You betcha.’ I squeeze her arse. ‘But I could never have imagined how good you’d taste, even when I licked you for hours in my mind.’
Her facial expression is priceless. It’s somewhere between wanting to clutch her pearls and running for the hills, but if I’m not mistaken, there’s a flush on her cheeks that looks pleased, too.
I’m going to enjoy shocking the fuck out of my hot little wife for a very long time.
‘Keep riding me, sweetheart,’ I tell her. Her eyelids flutter as she draws herself up and pushes back down. Jesus Christ. I’m sweating with the effort of staving off my climax.
She buries her head in my neck. ‘I’ve fantasised about you,’ she confesses in a whisper against my skin. The impact of her admission is like a shot of whisky, warming me from the inside out with an impossible glow.
‘That’s my girl.’ I stay still, allowing her to keep her face buried. Clearly, she’s not as comfortable opening up about this shit as I am. ‘When?’
A little laugh. ‘More than once.’
‘Yeah? Give me an example.’ She hesitates, her entire body going stiff. ‘Only if you want to,’ I add hastily. I really hope she wants to.
‘I seem to… really get off on watching you playing sports,’ she admits, and I let out a pained chuckle. Pained because I’m not sure how much longer my dick can survive this. ‘Tennis and cricket, mainly.’
‘Wasn’t expecting that.’
‘You’re very athletic. It’s… hot.’ She pulls her head up and looks at me. Her face is flushed and gorgeous.
‘I’m even more athletic in bed,’ I assure her, earning me an eye roll.
‘And when we dance together,’ she continues with a self-conscious shrug.
‘Move for me, sweetheart. What is it about us dancing together?’
‘Well, it’s usually pretty filthy,’ she grits out as she begins to move again. ‘Like that time at Xavier’s thirtieth—dancing with you is like vertical sex.’
A stab of guilt punches me squarely in the throat. Here she is, guileless and brave, confiding in me with no clue that I pulled her onto the dance floor that night just so Xav could go and find his ‘birthday present’—a.k.a. Ivy—waiting for him in the lilac bedroom.
Still, that dance with Slinks was a massive turn-on. That night she was, as she always is, the most beautiful woman in the room.
‘I hope the real thing is even better,’ I mutter gruffly, and she gives me a shy smile.
‘It is.’
This may not be the best position for leverage, but I’m sweating with the effort of holding off. I press my forehead to hers. ‘Can you come like this?’
‘I never have,’ she confesses, dropping her eyes.
‘I’m sorry,’ I pant, ‘and I’m glad, because I’m about to disgrace myself, so at least the bar is low.
’ She giggles, her hands doing laps of my back and shoulders, and I feel the vibrations of her laugh in my dick.
I lean back further, ignoring the shaking in the hand and arm holding my weight.
‘Finish me off, princess,’ I urge her. ‘But I promise I have a growth mindset when it comes to getting you off. We’ll get there, I swear. ’ I can barely get the words out.
I tilt my head back and watch the spectacular show that is Slinky, naked and glorious, riding my dick, her perfect little tits bouncing, hair everywhere, eyes dark, lips parted, a tiny crease appearing between her brows every time I bottom out on her.
She may not be capable of orgasming like this—yet—but I’m damned if she’s not feeling something.
The intensity of this first fantastic fuck is written all over her beautiful face.
A glance downwards shows my dick disappearing inside her body over and over, her perfect cunt stretched around me, and it’s the best fucking porn I’ve ever seen.
The impossible heat I’ve been attempting to stave off consumes me, and I abandon all attempts to hold myself up, collapsing flat on the bed.
She comes with me, leaning forward, hair cascading everywhere, finding my mouth with hers as I grip her waist with both hands, shoving her down onto my cock over and over.
‘Milk me,’ I plead into her mouth. ‘Milk me dry.’
At my words, her kisses turn frantic. My balls are made of glass right now; my dick is on fire, my entire body alight.
As my body gives up the fight and goes rigid, I abandon myself to a vicious, flawless burst of pleasure that roars through me.
My fingers digging into her flesh, I hold her still as I pump and pump and pump, releasing every ounce of cum I have in me into my bride’s body.
Forget trite vows and staged kisses in front of a crowd.
This is how to make our marriage real:
By branding my wife from the inside out.