Gathering up the acres of fabric from the skirt of her dress, Lucya crawls over me, straddling my lap. “I am very happy with the idea of being alone with you.”
“And I, you,” I say, giving her a long kiss. “But right now you’re going back where you were with your seatbelt securely fastened.”
She pouts at me adorably, and I put her hand on my cock. “I’ve been hard for the last hour, hummingbird. I’m being the responsible one here and I’m not enjoying it at all.”
It takes every ounce of self-control that I possess to keep myself from debauching my wife on the way to the private airfield where I keep my jet. I strap her into her seat for takeoff. By the time we're in the air and the pilot opens the mic, I’m white-knuckled.
“Mr. and Mrs. Turgenev, many good wishes for your happiness. You may remove your seatbelts and move freely about-”
I’ve already got my bride thrown over my shoulder and I’m heading for the bedroom at the back of my jet.
“How much time do we have before we land?” Lucya laughs.
“Three and a half hours,” I say, throwing her skirt up over her face and ripping away her gauzy excuse for underwear.
“Then let’s make it count,” she laughs before choking as I fasten my mouth over her center.
“Fuck, I have missed this,” I groan, drawing her clit into my mouth and sucking slightly harder than is comfortable for her, but she still tightens her thighs around my head.
“I’ve dreamt of this,” she confesses, “you dragging me kicking and screaming into an orgasm and then starting all over again.”
It takes no time at all to pull her first orgasm from her.
Sliding my finger through her wet slit, I paint the number one on her thigh. “That’s one, hummingbird.”
Spreading her knees wide, I slide two fingers inside her, curling them and rubbing hard against that sensitive little patch on her silky walls. “Come for me again, love. Be a good girl.”
She does, trembling and gripping my shirt, trying to ground herself. I paint another mark on her other thigh. “That’s two.”
Lucya’s eyes are wide and shocked, but the flood of slick from her tells me how much she’s enjoying it. “Can- can orgasm number three be from you inside me?” she gasps, and it’s so fucking erotic that I nearly come right then.
Gripping my erection hard enough to hurt, my head drops between her breasts as I try to control myself. Ripping open mypants, I throw her legs over my elbows, holding them there as I notch my cock just inside her.
She’s shaking a little, from nerves, excitement perhaps. But her eyes are bright and she arches up enough to kiss my neck. “Please, husband? I’m running out of dirty talk and I-”
I push inside her.
“Oh, likethat,”she sighs.
I have to move slowly for the first few strokes, getting her body to open for me. When she’s stretched enough to accommodate me, Lucya arches her hips up and I pound inside her, groaning at the feel of her, how her perfect little cunt grips me. She’s tearing at my tuxedo shirt, popping the ebony studs loose, and running her hands over my chest.
Putting my hand against her throat and squeezing gently, I warn her. “I’m not going to last.”
“Then make it three,” she whispers, biting my shoulder.
My sweet wife is spectacular at dirty talk.
Epilogue
In which Alexi shows his romantic side. Also, lots of sex.
Lucya…
Somewhere in the Mediterranean…
I’m kneeling between my new husband’s legs, eyeing his erection. The silver piercing on the tip glints in the sunlight and I run my tongue along my lips.
“I want to kiss it.”
