His request was a bucket of icy water dumped over her head. Dousing her ardor and bringing her back from the haze of desire. He would want to see her as he had allowed himself to be seen by her.
But her body was nowhere as beautiful as his. Her breasts were too large. Her belly was not chiseled as his, but soft and gently curving. Her hips were too wide, her thighs too thick. While contained by the strong corsets her mother had made for her, her body looked passable. But out of the shape and structure of it, her fleshiness was... grotesque. He would take one look at her and feel disappointed.
“Darling, what is it? There should be no embarrassment between us. We are married now.”
“I...it’s just that...my body is not as beautiful as yours without clothing.”
“That is not true.”
“You have not seen it unclothed,” she contradicted.
Instead of being put off, his smile was pure wickedness. “I have a very good imagination.”
He stepped closer and his fingers molded her hips with reverence. “For example, I knew your hips would be wide and generous.”
His fingers kneaded her flesh softly. “Hmmm, exactly how I imagined it.” Her crinolines and petticoats lay discarded on the floor, leaving her clad only in her thin chemise, corset, drawers, and stockings. Barely concealed at all.
His hands stole to her backside, massaging her buttocks, their movements more possessive and fierce with every stroke. His chest rose and fell with deep gulps of air. He buried his face in her neck, bit the slope of her shoulder while a groan tore from his chest. “Fuck, Artemis, your arse is perfect.” He whirled her, turning her away from him, and pressed his hard member into the mounds of her arse. “So round and big...”
Those words had sent her crying in shame more than once in the past, when uttered by her mother, or the modiste. But when her husband uttered them, his voice strangled with barely leashed desire, they sounded like a compliment, and they produced a warm glow that was not unpleasant. It felt almost like satisfaction. He seemed to like the exaggerated curves of her body.
His fingers dug into her hips, making her squirm. He responded by grinding his rod harder against her behind, emitting a groan so feral there was no mistaking its meaning.
“Someday soon, I want to take you from behind, just like this.” The words, a warm breath whispered in her ear, had the power to liquify her core.
“You’ll be on all fours in front of me.” Her head fell back onto his shoulder, basking in the heat emanating from his body all along her back. A heat he stoked with that mesmerizing voice. “I’ll take hold of your hips and bury my cock deep in your willing pussy. And then I’ll ride you hard, watching the mounds of your arse ripple and giggle with every thrust of my hips... Ahh fuck, that image is almost enough to make me spend this instant.”
His arms wrapped around her waist, hugging her tight against him, while his member was a hot, throbbing brand against her bottom.
“Let me remove the rest of your garments.” The entreaty was delivered in a ragged whisper. “I need to see this gorgeous body.”
She lifted her shin, accepting the challenge. So be it. She was not proud of her body, but damn if she would hide like a coward. His heated words had inspired an incipient confidence in her. Maybe the body she had always tried to control and conceal was actually a source of pleasure for her husband.
With a decisive nod, she agreed to his entreaty. He took the invitation with alacrity. Yanking and pulling at the corset laces. With each tug, her bodice became looser. Her large breasts spilling forth like foam from an overflowing pint of beer.
When at last the heavy corset fell to the floor with a thud, taking her drawers with it, she stepped out of the mass of clothing, and hugged her arms to her chest. He came around to stand in front of her, his gaze homing on her breasts. Slowly, he peeled her arms away, replacing them with his hands, which cupped her through the translucent fabric of her chemise.
He licked his lips, lifting her breasts before dipping his head and sucking at one nipple through the fabric of her chemise until she yelped in surprised pleasure. He then transferred his mouth to the other nipple and gave it the same attention.
“Feels good, doesn’t it? I wouldn’t be able to pleasure you this way with your corset on. You do not know how much your breasts have featured in my fantasies from the moment I first saw you,” he said while attempting to undo the ribbon of her chemise. His fingers had lost their adroitness in their desperation. When at last he unlaced the ribbon and discarded her chemise, a deep groan tore from his chest.
“You are perfect. Every single part of you. Your slim waist that flares into those luscious hips. And your breasts... they are even more beautiful than I imagined,” he growled, and went back for another taste. “I want to fuck your breasts.” The admission seemed torn from his chest as a ragged whisper.
“You w-what?” She must have misunderstood.
He looked up at her, and there were spots of color on his cheeks. Was this suave and resolute rake embarrassed?
“I’m sorry. Am I scaring you with my ardor? I should know to take it easy for your first time. It’s just that your breasts make me feral.”
“Do you like them?” She could hardly believe this. The part of her anatomy she was the most self-conscious about, and he seemed excited about it.
“Like them?” he gave a bark of laughter. “‘Like’ is too mild a word. I adore them. Go feral over them. I’ve never beheld a most spectacular set of tits in my life.”
“Oh.” Once again, she found herself speechless.
“Lie on the bed.”
She did as he asked, lying down with as much grace as she could muster. Her huge breasts spilling this way and that. But he was on them in an instant. Crawling on top of her on all fours, like a big, dangerous panther intent on devouring her.
