Aunt Abi nudges me. “How about you, Lyn? Share some spice here.” She grins.
“I…” What do I say? We did nothing on our wedding night. They wouldn’t believe it.
To my rescue, Wen chimes in, “You old women! If you make her blush like this, her husband will not take it easy on you.”
She takes my hand, and I get up laughing. “Carry on with your conversation. I’m her knight in her shining dress.”
Everyone laughs, I let her drag me onto the dance floor. I’ve recovered a lot, but a shortness of breath, tightness in my chest, and a nagging Matleon are keeping me from moving my body fully.
I dance lightly with everyone, moving as little as possible. It’s still so much fun, but it doesn’t last more than ten minutes, because after that, a tall mountain of a man hijacks the dance floor and drags me out, despite the girls’ protests.
Once we are away from the party area in the garden, he lifts me up in his arms.
“What should we do to you, dearest wifey?”
“How about putting me down first?” I say, grinning and lying against his neck, my words and actions completely opposite.
He chuckles. “You like being carried like a princess, don’t you?”
“I don’t think anyone wouldn’t like it whenyouare the one carrying them.” He carries me as if I weigh nothing at all, so steady. “But of course, no one else is going to get this luxury apart from me.”
He laughs. “I like this possessive side of yours.”
I glance over his shoulder. “Oh wait—why are you taking me home? The party’s not over.”
“It’s over for you.”
“Nooo,” I protest.
“Alright, you have two options. First: go back to the party, where I won’t let you dance, and you’ll have to answer those women’s questions while blushing red. Second: come home with me,” his dark eyes lock on mine. “I’ll remove this tight red dress, help you into the bath, and then tug you to sleep… in between, I’ll eat your sweet pussy a few times.”
I bite my lower lip. He chuckles. “Yourfuck meeyes are saying you want the second one. And since I love your eyes, I’ll listen to them.”
“You just want to have your way,” I whisper back breathily.
He smirks, keeping his eyes on the path ahead. The darkness rising in them makes me wet, like always.
He carries me straight to our room and lays me down on the bed.
“Two options,” his voice is hoarse. “Have your pussy fingered and sucked.” He rides my dress up and removes my thong. “Or we can fuck this,” he spreads my legs and licks my wetness. My head falls back into the pillows with a gasping moan. “Little wet pussy in missionary,” he murmurs.
He removes his pants, watching me, his eyes demanding an answer.
“Second,” I utter the word in a low voice.
He smirks and settles between my legs. “My dick always feels pride when you choose him.”
He positions himself at my center and removes his shirt over his head. My insides clench, this happens every time I see him naked. He’s so wide, full of tight, coiled muscles.
“Feel free to ogle your property, Angel.”
He inserts the tip inside and leans over me. “Two options,” he mutters in his thick baritone. “Slam my dick inside this tight pussy in one hard punch, or insert slowly, dragging out your sweet juices to bathe my dick.”
His words did the job of the second option, so, “First it is.”
He slams inside me, and I see the blinding light of a mini orgasm. My head rolls back, a loud cry escaping my throat. He pulls out and drives in with the same force. Two more strokes and I’ll be coming hard.
He kisses along my neck. “Don’t hold back, Angel. Come on my dick,” he breathes out thickly, slamming in again. The fourth stroke and I’m coming, cries and moans spilling out of me.
