“I’m yours.”
The affirmation expanded his chest with lust and love. He got down on one knee. “Then keep frigging yourself while I avail myself of my queen’s delights.”
He kissed her, long and hard and deep. It was a conquering kiss, and she yielded in that way of hers that drove him wild, made him burn to have all of her. He found a sensitive spot on her neck, claiming it with a savage suction that would leave a mark.
He made his way to her breasts, pure male greed taking over. God’s blood, her tits were a masterpiece. He kneaded and squeezed, his thumbs grazing the stiff cherry tips. He licked around her wide areola, spiraling toward the peak. As he suckled her, she moved her arm faster, diddling herself with lovely desperation.
He nuzzled the inviting softness of her belly, his hands roving possessively. Such bounty and all of it was his. When he arrived at her sex, breathing in the scent of her arousal, her fingers stilled.
He glanced back at her face. “Did I tell you to stop pleasuring yourself?”
“No.”
“Then why did you cease?”
Her eyes were wide, earnest. “Because my sultan does it better.”
Devil and damn.She knew exactly how to incite the beast in him.
“Does my slave wish for me to take care of her?” He had to fight to keep his voice calm in the face of his raging desire. “To frig and eat her pussy?”
“Yes, please.”
“Tempt me with a taste, then.”
She brought her hand to his lips. Holding her delicate wrist, he slowly sucked two of her fingers into his mouth. Her flavor intoxicated him, a drug that made him crave more.
He licked his lips. “Your cream is delectable, a meal I shall enjoy.” Her hand trembled in his grasp, and he brought it to her sex, positioning the index and middle fingers on her nether lips. “Spread your cunny for me, love.”
His nostrils flared as her slim, ladylike fingers exposed her dewy secrets for him. He leaned in, running his tongue up her plump seam. He took his time worshipping her femininity. She chanted her pleasure as he feasted on her. As he swived his naughty queen with his mouth.
When her thighs tightened in that telling way, he commanded, “Come for me now.”
With a tremulous cry, she obeyed, her completion gushing upon his greedy tongue.
Breathing heavily, he rose and tore off his clothes. His wife’s face was radiant with love and insatiable sensuality worthy of the goddess she resembled. When he was naked at last, he curled one hand around the base of his thick, straining cock and gave her a meaningful look. She needed no further prompting, moving to kneel gracefully at his feet.
Her palms resting on his hard thighs, she swallowed his prick with mind-obliterating enthusiasm. As her mouth serviced him, her eyes stoked his flames ever higher. Those blue depths glowed with the pleasure of pleasuring him. With the knowledge that she was his equal in passion and in life.
Everything he wanted—love, loyalty, tender playfulness—swirled in his wife’s gaze. He couldn’t resist the emotions she invoked in him or her selfless sucking. He gave himself over to the joy, the sheer carnal bliss of spending betwixt his beloved’s lips. She took all of him as she always did, and he grunted with approval as her throat caressed and coaxed out the last drops.
Still hard, still hungry, he lay on the couch, hauling her on top of him. He teased her by rubbing his crown along her cleft until her cream coated them both, her eyes beseeching him.
He tucked a wayward tress behind her ear. “Do you want my cock, sweetheart?”
“Ever so much,” she breathed.
“Then sit on it.”
Her palms pressed against his chest as she impaled herself, inch by inch, on his up-thrust rod. He loved her initial struggle to accommodate him, the way she wriggled and stretched around his invading shaft. They both groaned when she took him to the balls, her sheath surrounding him like a hot, tight glove, every part of her made to fit every part of him.
She slid up and down, her movements torturously slow.
He placed his hands on her hips, urging her on. “Tell me how it feels to ride my cock.”
“It feels…so good.” Her neck arched as she sank down again.
“Surely my Scheherazade can do better than that.”
