“I’m not your husband yet.”
“That didn’t stop you earlier.”
But I don’t want to think about my actions this morning. “You’re not ready.”
“I’m the one who decides if I’m ready or not.” Her eyes flash with anger. “Or is this something you’re planning to save for your paid whores?”
Her defiance rouses me more than the words she uses. I’m trying to be decent, trying to do the right thing, and she’s just throwing it back in my face.
I grab her head in both hands, plunging them deep into her hair, jerking her down. “Fine. You want this?”
The muscles of her neck tighten, turning her stiff, but as I force her towards my crotch, she opens her mouth. A burst of annoyance takes over me and I shove myself far deeper than I should, a petty retaliation for her daring to turn down my offer to go slow.
“Is that what you want?” I snarl at her as the head of my cock bangs into the back of her throat. Her palms are flat on my chest, above her head, and I expect them to clench but they travel down to rest against my hips.
Crimson twists her head, large eyes staring up at me. There’s still the flash of fire there but no protest, no supplication. When I shift my grip so I’m no longer forcing her to stay in place, she remains where I put her for one second, two seconds, then swallows me farther into the back of her throat, eyes streaming as she takes me deeper.
My eyelids flutter at the sensation—her tongue is like fucking velvet—my hips pumping towards the embrace of her mouth, then I snap her head back, drawing her off me in one smooth movement before I’m lost under her spell.
“Did you like that?” I goad as she gasps for breath, mascara tears blackening her face.
“Fuck, yes,” she says between swallows of air, lust glinting from her watering eyes. Her enthusiasm sideswipes me, making me harder by the second. “That’s so hot.”
Then her head ducks down as she takes the length of me into her mouth again, leaving both of us breathless.
I fight an internal war, wanting the sucking, swallowing, pulsing, licking to go on forever and equally craving the release, unwilling to subject her to too much, too long, despite her pleas to the contrary.
It’s the eyes that do me in. The lashes are heavy, clumped together with her residual makeup and her tears. She blinks, opening them so wide and innocent while her lips are stretched to their fullest wrapping around my cock.
When she gags on me, the vibrations echo along my shaft. It’s my undoing.
I open my mouth to warn her and it’s too late. I erupt down her throat. When I tug at her to pull her free, she bats my hand away, slowly drawing along my length until she’s at the tip, then gulping me down again, causing another pulse to spill into her waiting throat.
Crimson sits back, swallowing then poking her tongue out at me, showing the last vestiges of my emission before licking her lips and swallowing again.
She crawls up the length of my body, collecting my right hand along the way and grinning as she takes my fingers into her wide mouth. Her tongue works over and between them, teasing and wetting them before she pulls them free and drives them between her legs.
“Make me come,” she begs, and the voice drives me wild, curling her over and pressing her into the mattress with my weight. My fingers dive into her, careful but too focused on giving her what she needs to be wary.
She’s so wet that her juices coat my fingers as I draw them along her silken flesh, caressing farther down before venturing up to swirl gently around her swollen clit, already pushed free of its hood.
My heart jumps as her hand grabs hold, guiding me and I let her, smiling at her confidence as she uses me to get herself off, no part of her holding back.
With my free hand I catch the back of her neck, raising from the bed to kiss that glorious mouth as she guides me to where she needs me, barely lasting seconds before her muscles pulse against me and I catch her moan and swallow it before it can escape into the air.
Everything she does is unexpected. A different person than the one my mind tries to make her out to be. Not the virgin bride her dad sold me on; not the shy girl who cowered that first night.
Crimson is luscious, carnal, adventurous. The forced innocence a mask she’s happily tossed aside to reveal her true self.
A woman who lusts for every new experience that I can give her. Who takes everything I throw at her and greedily ask for more.
She releases me but my fingers continue to stroke her, extending her pleasure until she’s wrung every last drop from her orgasm, the same way her mouth rode through every second of mine.
“I loved that,” she says with a small giggle, turning her head to one side so her ear presses above my heart.
An automatic response jumps to my lips but I hold it back, instead letting loose a low chuckle. “You’re a revelation. You know that?”
“Sure Mr We-don’t-need-orgasms,” she teases, already sliding deeply into sleep.
