Riveted, he watched her in her pleasure. The flush over her damp cheeks. He kissed her breasts, worshipped the peaks. Sucked her pebbled tips while he kept his pace within her.
“Who do you long for?” he demanded harshly.
“You!” she wept.
Her desire left a damp trail of moisture along the inside of her thighs. He wanted to lick it all away. He wanted to be ballocks-deep inside her, more.
Their thrusting took on a greater urgency.
“Tell me who you love,” he begged, plunging into her.
“You! I love you!”
Her cries filled his ears.
His movements grew jerky.
So close. So damned close.
“Come for me,” he pleaded against her breasts. “First. You will always be first.”
Meghan lifted her hips into his. The sounds of their flesh slapping filled his ears.
Her channel spasmed.
She was close…so close…
“August!” she moaned. “Please.”
He thrust harder.
“Who do you belong to?”
Meghan wept.
“You.”
He shoved deeper.
“Who am I?”
“M-my captain!”
His eyes flared.
Grinding his teeth, August gripped her hips; he dug his fingers into her flesh.
Meghan wept openly. “M-my master.”
With each passion-pain laced cry of ownership she ascribed to him, he rewarded her with another stroke.
“My tormentor.”
Sweat poured off him. His breath came in quick spurts.
He placed his mouth against her ear. “I will be your husband.”
Her body clenched with desire; her inner muscles gripped his cock and squeezed.
