“Jesus...” he hissed, inching farther until he reached the hilt. His breath mingled with mine as we stared into each other’s eyes; into each other’ssouls.
“I’m sorry I didn’t save you then, stella,” he whispered, his hands tightening on my face, “but you’re mine now, and you’ll never suffer again.”
Tears stung my eyes as he began to move inside my deepest place. He was larger than Victor—thicker by far—and I struggled to take him fully.
“You can take it, Bianca,” he said, licking his fingers and touching them to my clit as he increased the pace. “You can take my hard cock inside that sweet pussy, can’t you?”
I nodded, my desire jumpstarting again as he circled my clit. He tenderly fucked me in long, smooth strokes, before gritting his teeth.
“I need more, sweetheart,” he said, increasing the pressure on my clit as his hips began to move in hurried thrusts. “I’m sorry...I just...fuck... I need to fuck you like I always should have...”
I purred, clutching his shoulders as his hips began moving at a frenzied pace. He thrust inside me, the head of his cock hitting a spot deep within I’d never felt.
“Yes,” he gritted, resting both palms on either side of my head so he could anchor himself. “This spot is mine!” he growled, the possessive tone setting every one of my cells on fire. “Take it, sweetheart. Take my fucking cock. God, you’re so beautiful...”
My hips thrust back, turning our coupling into an intense dance only made for us. My eyes rolled back in my head as my mouth fell open, and I ached for the climax that was just out of reach.
Michael grunted as he fucked me, the sounds primal and possessive, breaking something open in me that I never knew existed.
“God, it feels sogood...” I cried, awash with the knowledge that sex could actually be enjoyable.
“I’m going to come, Bianca. Take every fucking drop.” A muscle clenched in his jaw as sweat beaded on his skin. “Fuck!I can’t...”
He moaned my name before burying his face in my neck and thrusting his fingers in my hair. His hips pumped into me as we both came, our orgasms in tandem as he released long, sticky jets deep within me. His deep groans echoed with every last thrust until his muscles lost control and he collapsed atop my ravaged body.
I quaked and shuddered beneath him, reveling in the fact that he’d given me two orgasms back-to-back. I hadn’t even known that was possible.
He sighed against my neck, his face still buried there, and I pressed my fingernails to his scalp, slowly stroking as we recovered.
“Mmm...” he groaned. “That feels so good.”
“You must have a sensitive head if you like having your hair grippedandlike my nails on your scalp,” I said against his temple.
“I like having your handsanywherenear me, stella,” he murmured.
We lay there for a while, lazy and sated, before he lifted his head and pressed his lips to mine.
“You’re now officially my wife,” he said, his gaze reverent. “Only twenty years or so too late.”
I traced the faint lines around his eyes as I gazed at him. “Let’s do better this time. I’d like to actuallyknowwhat it’s like to be happy in a marriage.”
His lips formed a tender smile. “A worthy endeavor.”
He slowly rose and repositioned me under the covers. Crawling underneath, he joined me as we both settled on our sides and gazed into each other’s eyes. His slowly slid closed, and moments later, he began to softly snore.
I stared at him for several moments before sliding from the bed and finding a robe in his closet. Slipping it on, I grabbed my clothes and headed back to my room. Once inside, I shed the robe and cleaned myself up in the bathroom.
Sliding under the covers, I closed my eyes as a sated smile formed on my lips. And then, I allowed myself to succumb to exhaustion from what had been, in essence, the longest day in fucking history.
Sometime later, I awoke with a gasp as Michael slid his arm under my knees and lifted me from my bed. He carried me back to his bedroom and placed me underneath the covers before crawling in behind me.
He spooned me, resting his head behind mine on the pillow. His hand snaked over my hip and rested between my legs, cupping me there in a possessive gesture that signaled I washis.
“You’re my wife, and you sleep in my bed, Bianca,” he said, his hand flexing on my core to affirm his claim. “Do you understand?”
“I didn’t want to assume,” I said, nuzzling into his warm body. “I’m sorry...”
“Mine,” he growled, nipping my neck before settling behind me and relaxing against me. “This bed is ours, and I expect you to be in it every night.”
