His legs are just as golden and his thighs ripple with thick muscle as he moves. When Alastair’s dressed in a suit, he looks like a proper businessman, but naked? He should be running through the forest somewhere, hunting his prey. There’s a look of barely contained need on his face as he drops to his knees, looping his arms around my legs and spreading me wide. I fall back onto the bed, covering my eyes. He’s seeing all of me; the hidden, secretive parts I’ve never shown to anyone, and he makes a low growl of appreciation.
“Look at me,” he says, “I want you to watch me worship this perfect little pussy.”
There are no polite kisses along my inner thighs, he breathes me in and attacks my center like he’s devouring me. Like I’m a gourmet meal, running his tongue between my lips and then sliding up to wrap his lips around my clitoris. When he tightens his lips and pulls on it, I shriek. Shock? Excitement? I don’t know but the feel of his hot mouth on me is making my legs shake. This is so personal- too personal. There is a man looking at my lady garden. A man who has hismouthon my lady garden. I can feel the rasp of his stubble on my inner thighs and the feel is so alien, but so good.
Gone is the chilly English businessman, he’s shed that persona along with his tuxedo and I’m beginning to like this version of him.
Spreading my center open with his thumbs, he blows a quick breath of hot air and slides a finger inside me.
It’s just a finger. Why does it feel huge? How am I going to handle his dick if his finger feels like it’s invading me? His calloused fingertip rubs inside me and I’m squeezing my thighs against his shoulders holding open and let out a shriek when he curls his finger and sucks on my clitoris at the same time.
I’ve had orgasms before. Small ones by my own hand but nothing like this. Like a jolt of lightning barreling up and down my spine and exploding back in my center and my back arches and I moan, sliding my fingers into his hair and pulling mindlessly. He doesn’t stop his movements, groaning appreciatively against my pussy.
“Sensitive,” I gasp, “sensitive!”
He slides another finger inside me, resting his chin on my thigh, watching my expressions. “Give me another one and I’ll stop, sweet girl. Your pussy is like wet, hot velvet. I’m using every shred of my self-control to keep from fucking you senseless at this moment. I need you to be wet and slick for me.”
Alastair doesn’t seem to mind when I pull on his hair again as my back arches. Again? I can’t come again, it’s too- Oh, sweet baby Jesus I’m coming again, mindless and greedy, and when he looks up at me, my slick is shining on his chin and lips. He rises over me to kiss me, forcing me to taste myself and it feels so filthy and I love that, too.
Then he stands up to pull off his boxer briefs and my elbows and heels start scooting me up the bed. It’s huge, thick with throbbing veins and the wide tip of it is already wet. It’s one thing to look at it, but it can’t fit.
“Wait. Wait, I’m not-”
“You will be,” he promises and fits himself between my thighs, pushing his cock between my soaked lips. Not inside me, and he slides it back and forth. Damn him- the man knows exactly how to position me so that my sensitive bits are rubbing wetly against the heated length of his cock, sliding me back and forth, back and forth again with his hands on my hips. It was like striking a match, my need flaring back into life and I pressed down harder against him, feeling every bump and ridge and throbbing vein.
He kisses me again as he spreads my thighs wider. “It’s going to hurt. You’re going to find that you crave that as much as those orgasms that make you moan so beautifully.” He rolls on a condom and his cock is notched at the entrance to my channel as my nails dig into his biceps.Cravepain? I gasp, feeling the stretch as his shaft pushes harder. It burns as he thrusts inside me and it is almost, sumptuously, too much. I hear his breath hitch, then a long groan as he slides halfway inside me, resting for a moment before pulling back out, pushing in farther the next time, and the next. There is so much of him inside me that my breath is coming out in little gasps like there isn’t enough room in me to breathe.
His hips still, he’s hot and hard and so thick. “Are you all right?” he whispers. I nod. He circles his hips, making more room and this time, he thrusts hard, making me yelp and then more, digging my nails deeper into his arms. He doesn’t seem to mind, kissing me and kissing me and kissing me more as his hips slam into my stomach.
“Open these fucking legs wider,” he orders, “I’m getting all the way inside this pussy.”
“You’re- you’re not already?” I wheeze, feeling like every nerve in my body is on fire, first the pain of shoving his cock inside me and then the pleasure as he pulls it out. Damn him, he isright, the feel of him taking me over, covering my body with his, his thighs shoving mine open… I never knew anything could feel this good. The twin senses of pain and pleasure twine together and I’m gasping and moaning for more at the same time.
“I’ve fantasized about you,” he says, thrusting faster. “How tight this pussy would be, your strong little legs tightening around me. The reality is even better.” His voice is a weapon, deep and harsh, and rumbles in his chest. “You are exquisite,” he whispers in my ear before bending his head to take a nipple into his mouth.
“This is too much,” I gasp. The sting of his cock doesn’t lessen as he keeps thrusting.
“No darling, it’s perfect,” he releases my nipple with a loud pop and kisses me again. “You were made to fit me inside you.”
Another bolt of heat sizzles between my thighs and I grab handfuls of my hair, trying to hold on to something because I can feel myself flying apart and his cock is hollowing me out, shaping me to fit him.
My back arches and a startled scream leaves my lips when my body takes over and I’m coming, coming hard enough to arch my back off the mattress until his next thrust slams me down again.
“That’s it. You’re strangling my cock, milk the come out of me.” My husband throws his head back, teeth gritted and veins throbbing in his neck and there is nothing sexier than watching him come as he swells even wider inside me. “Fuck!” he gasps, dropping his head to my chest.
Mindlessly stroking his thick hair, I look up at the ceiling. There’s no going back now.
If I’m being honest with myself, I don’t want to.
Chapter Twenty-Four
In which sometimes, the dead refuse to stay buried.
Alastair…
My bride is fast asleep, so deeply that I’m questioning whether it’s sleep, or if I’d fucked her unconscious. I’d gently cleaned her up with a wet, warm cloth and she was already asleep when I came back into the bedroom. She’s face down on the mattress, arms spread wide as always. I look at the blood on the sheets and feel a greedy, masculine surge of pride.
She’s mine now, in every way. Her brothers are never getting her back, and that might be the best revenge of all.
