“Like it?” I mutter.
She looks both amazed and thrilled, but I can still detect the edge of hurt and anger under it all. I sit down on the couch and push her down toward me, so that she’s settled on my lap, my arms cradling her.
“What am I going to do with you?”
She leans her head against my chest, and my heart nearly breaks. It’s crazy how everyone can tell just how bad I’ve got it. Everyone but her.
I lift her head, tilt it back and kiss her gently. I try to communicate all my love to her, and once more, I feel her resistance melting just a bit. She believes me again, but it’s fleeting. Will it remain fleeting forever?
Pushing away those thoughts, I focus on the now. She believes me right now, and I’m going to reward her for it.
I do my best to remove her dress, but it takes me a minute. There are about a thousand little hooks in her back, and finally I’m forced to lay her across my lap so I can undo each one. She actually laughs softly, and I smile to myself before taking her out of the garment, letting it slide to the floor.
She’s fully naked underneath, and I stand her up, settling backso I can admire her beautiful body. The bridal camisole and undergarments she was supposed to wear lay forgotten in one corner of the room. She never put them on, but I like her much better like this, my naked, blushing bride, her arms darting up to hide her breasts before going back down to her side as she notices my expression.
I’ve seen her naked tons of times, but never quite like this. Standing in the middle of the room while I sit back, examining her, the sunlight’s gleam exposing every part of her.
She’s clearly embarrassed, and that makes it even better. I let my eyes rove hungrily over every single inch of her. Her breasts, her stomach, her glistening mound. Her toes curling with shame and want, her downcast eyes, their heavy fringe hiding the violet underneath. The three freckles on the tip of her upturned nose, her pale skin glowing under her thick, tangled hair. She’s gorgeous and she’s mine. My cock hardens at the thought.
“Turn around,” I grunt.
She hesitates, but does as I say. There’s no more defiance in her eyes. Only humiliation and desire. The latter apparently heightened by the former.
I take in her round ass, the globes nearly as full as they were before our eight-month separation.
Unable to control myself anymore, I stand up and go toward her, burying my face in her beautiful hair, embracing her from behind. One of my hands reaches up for her breast while the other one travels first to those white globes, cupping each cheek and marveling at how well they fit in my hands, before finding her pussy. She’s already wet, and I glide a finger through her folds, flicking her clit.
She moans.
“Are you going to be a good girl now,” I breathe in her hair, “or am I going to have to punish you right after our wedding?”
She inhales, her pussy getting even wetter at my words. Ismirk, knowing she’s no longer hesitating for the same reason as before. My Seraphina is a glutton for punishment.
“I’m going to be good,” she mumbles in an embarrassed voice, and as soon as she speaks, I whip her around and kiss her passionately.
Then I carry her into the small adjoining room, letting her fall onto the bed. This place is tiny, but it’ll do for now, before we head to our new home tonight. It was Lucy’s childhood home, and after my initial plans fell through, I decided it would be the perfect place to get married. A tiny church in the middle of nowhere, adjoining an even tinier house. Lucy’s father was the preacher there before the current deacon, and I smile at the irony of the preacher’s daughter working for Devil.
All thoughts of Lucy and preachers are quickly pushed aside by the sight of my bride’s wet pussy and the sound of my bride’s arousal, as she moans in anticipation.
I kiss her cute button nose, then fall to my knees in front of her and bury my head between her legs. I lap up her arousal, as hungry as a kitten is before a bowl of cream. I flit my tongue up her, teasing her G-spot before darting down again to flick her clit. She’s already tense in my arms, her toes wriggling with pleasure, and I drag my fingers up and down her stomach, raking her skin and leaving red marks, before dancing lightly on her sides and around her belly button, keeping her in a muddle of contrasting sensations that leave her breathless. I keep my mouth glued to her pussy, sucking her in, lapping at her, occasionally nipping at her clit playfully. She responds with little yelps and moans that make my cock throb with need.
“Damien,” she gasps. “Damien, please...”
She moves her hand toward my cock, but I trap her wrist and pin it to her stomach.
Not yet.I won’t consummate our wedding on this bed. I have just a speck of traditionalism in me, the kind that makes mewant a wedding in a church, and then to carry my wife over the threshold of our new home, before I fuck her all night long in our own bed.
I’ll pleasure her, but I won’t do anything more. Not until tonight.
I continue to lave her folds, and between my tongue and my fingers, I’m soon bringing her to the edge.
“Come for me, my darling,” I murmur, my mouth muffled in her folds.
I lick her faster and plunge a finger in her pussy just as she orgasms, increasing her pleasure. Then I pull her down to the floor so she’s straddling me, one leg on either side of me, and I kiss her violently, tongue-fucking her mouth. I know she can taste herself on me, and the thought makes my cock harder than ever.
I can’t bear it. I’m dead set on not fucking her right now, but I start to grind against her, holding her hips in place. She’s just as needy as me, squeezing me to her, raking her nails against my back. I grunt, dry humping her harder, my pants rubbing back and forth against her pussy. I know her wetness is leaving a large damp spot against the crotch of my pants, but I don’t care. Right now, I don’t care about anything, except getting release.
I sink my teeth into the juncture between her neck and her shoulder, scrape my nails down her back, and continue to grind against her, fast and hard, as she moans with need.
