I hold the back of her head with one hand, keeping her exactly where I need her. Locking her with my arm, my other hand rubs her back. I need to feel more of her.
It’s been four fucking months.
I sit on the bed with her straddling my hips. My tongue finds its home—inside her mouth, licking the roof. Her hot, ragged breaths fan my cheek. She’s not responding, but she has stopped struggling, which is more than welcome. My hands roam all over her back and waist, feeling every inch of her. This is torture for my balls, but it feels so goddamn good, so goddamn right, so goddamn perfect.
My Angel.
In my arms.
I let her lips go, pressing my forehead against hers, fucking breathless. When will these teenage reactions of my body ever stop? I don’t think ever.She will drive my mind and body crazy till the day I die.
“I missed you so fucking much,” I rasp.
She pulls her head back and looks into my eyes. No matter how much she denies it, she can’t convince me. How can I believe she doesn’t want me when her pupils are swallowing the entire ocean of her eyes, her cheeks are flushed so red it feels like blood could start dripping from her skin, her breath is so ragged and hot. I’m damn sure I’d find her wet if I went down there.
Fuck. Why the hell am I thinking that, only to make the ache in my dick worse?
“You’re talking like we’ve been together forever, and those four months were the only time we spent apart,” she says, trying to sound sarcastic, but with her freshly kissed face and choppy voice, it lands nowhere. I can’t stop the chuckle. Now she’s glaring at me with that adorable expression, and all this while sitting on my dick.
“Also, Matleon, we had a deal, you wouldn’t touch me.”
I slide my hands from the sides of her waist to her shoulders. My wife has curves worth worshipping.
“It was the mandatory wedding kiss that was overdue.”
She tries to push away, but with my hands on her shoulders, it’s not that easy.
“And what you are doing now… what is this?” she grits out.
My hands follow the same path down her back and then to her soft ass, pulling her closer. Her bottom slides on my dick. I almost moan from the sudden shot of pleasure.
“This is also mandatory. The wedding ritual—they call it the wedding night, and it’s overdue too.”
I hold her ass and push her back, then forward again. Her eyes widen, a small gasp escapes her lips. She bites her lower lip as I repeat it once more. Her breath is ragged again, the fading red returning to her cheeks, and the black is eating the blue of her eyes. I’m going to come just from watching this sight.
“Stop it, Matleon,” she snaps, but it’s more a moaning cry than a command.
Iselyn
I press my hands against his shoulders, trying to push him away, but my arms have lost their strength. My whole body has lost its strength. He doesn’t stop, grinding my core against the bulge in his pants. Every movement sends jolts of pleasure through me, making it impossible to resist. I want to protest with words, but even that feels impossible. If I release my lips from between my teeth, shameless sounds will spill out, and I refuse to give him the pleasure of thinking I’m enjoying this.
His eyes are half-closed, watching me from beneath his lashes. His jaw is clenched tight, I wonder if he’s holding back his own moans.
And then it comes: a low, rumbling groan. My moan follows, escaping my lips as they part freely from between my teeth.
His groan shakes his chest and shoulders, vibrations running through my palms. He drives me harder, pressing my center deeper against his shaft. My eyes close, moans falling freely from my mouth. He already knows I’m enjoying it, I refuse to admit it outright, knowing I’ll later call him out for crossing the line.Right now, I am shameless, selfish.
And then everything unravels. Thoughts scatter, sensations overwhelm me, and the last thing I hear is a roaring groan before my orgasm explodes inside me. White light floods my closed eyes.
When I come down from the high, I find myself hugging Matleon. My face is pressed against his shoulder, and I’m holding him for dear life.
I push back, but he doesn’t stop me. When I step down, he only watches me with those drunk, dark eyes, darker than the darkness itself. I run a hand over my t-shirt and shorts.
He rises from the bed, and my feet instinctively move back. He is dangerous, not just because he’s a reincarnation of Satan, but because he can make me cum so easily and so fiercely. It would have been perfect if he weren’t the man I so desperately want to mess with, but right now, my body is telling me otherwise.
When my back hits the bookshelf behind me, I stop. He comes closer and places his hands on either side of me.
I find my voice and mutter, “You can’t touch me.”
