Dante rumbles approval, and eases off, shifting down to thrust his tongue into my entrance, and that’s a softer, sweeter bliss after coming so hard and fast.
Eventually the orgasm recedes, and I try to gather myself. “I…”
“Shhh.” Dante nips at me, and I yelp. He just laughs, and starts kissing gently around my clit.
“What are you?—”
“Trust me,” he cuts me off. His fingers dig into my thighs when I try to writhe away because it’s too sensitive. But somehow, he knows better than I do, and in small increments, pleasure builds again with licks around, then over my clit.
I’m helpless to do anything but accept it.
My husband turns out to be very insistent, and this time when I come it’s a deeper wash of ecstasy. I’m out of mind, my hands holding Dante’s head, gripping his soft black hair,probably a bit too tightly. But I need him to anchor me as the orgasm rolls over me in white heat.
I’m completely spent. Done. I lie there, eyes closed for a while, unable to move.
And Dante seems to realise, because he doesn’t insist on more.
He leaves one hard kiss on my mons, and he moves. My eyes fly open in time to see him raise himself onto his hands over me. It’s dark, and his outline is all that’s visible. But I can feel the heat of his body, and he’s huge. A big, dark shadowy presence.
His cock brushes my thigh and I gasp. He’s silky, hard, and as smooth as polished wood.
It’s a hot side of skin against skin that sends another pulse of need into me, but then the contact is broken. My eyes are adjusting to the lack of light, and I can just about distinguish Dante’s features.
I stare up into his face, all stark lines and deep shadows.
“My filthy, needy little wife,” he says, and it sounds like a compliment.
He shifts his weight and moves his arm, and for a second I think he’s going to leave, and I get halfway through his name. “Dan…”
And then I realise what he’s doing.
He moves back and forward almost imperceptibly, holding himself over me on one hand.
A glance down between us confirms what I thought, and excitement blasts through me.
He’s pushed his shorts off and is stroking himself. Hard and fast, his gaze wandering down my body to my breasts, then returning to my face as he jerks off.
I have no idea what he’s thinking, but I have never felt so seen and desired in my life. I’m trembling with it.
“So pretty, and you’re so responsive for me, aren’t you, my littlewife?”
I nod, even though I guess it’s more a statement than an actual question.
“See what you did to me? What your taste, and the way you came for me, did to me? You’ve made me painfully hard, Ruby. Feral.”
My mouth is dry and I’m in awe. Is this really happening to me? To me?
“Ohh.” He moans and shudders, and then rasps out my name. “Ruby.”
The first stripe of his come on my belly is hot and unexpected. A shock.
He paints me with it in reams as he shakes with the intensity of his climax, his shadowed eyes boring into me.
Heat flares between my legs again, as I’m splashed with the sticky evidence of his pleasure. Coated.
I did this. The thought echoes in my head.
He touched himself, but he was turned on by me. And him coming all over me as he groans my name feels as possessive a claim as I can imagine, and it’s so good.
