One moment, I’m questioning my sanity, wondering if I’ve ever been this close to coming, and the next, my pussy is empty, and a sudden bang of noise echoes from above my head.
I twist to look backward, and Valentine grabs my hips and drives himself inside me in one brutally perfect thrust.
My mouth opens on a silent scream as he holds me still, not even letting me wiggle around the stretch or fill of his cock,his knot pulsing against my cunt. But Valentine’s not finished playing.
Leaning forward, he settles one of his hands under my chin, infusing enough pressure that I can’t move my head back to a normal angle. He leaves me staring at the slicked-up knife embedded in the wall above his bed. A gentle squeeze of my throat is accompanied by a deep chuckle. His enjoyment and pleasure match mine as he rocks his hips faster, stretching me past any resistance around his thickness.
He rubs his face over me wherever he can reach, scent marking. My submission oozes out of me, matching the slick of my arousal. I can’t breathe in without him letting me. I can’t move an inch, either, but I’ve never felt as free and as safe as I do.
“Knot,” I manage to wheeze as soon as his hand loosens.
He’s wickedly fast when he slaps my breast to quieten my demands. He teases me slower, circling his hips, pulling out a few inches before slamming back in.
I start to cry, the tears tracking over my face. He blows, making them impossible to ignore, and then he leans over and swipes his tongue up my cheek, moaning the whole time.
His love is fierce and wild; it eradicates the darkness and doubts as it consumes.
I hear him cooing the sweetest encouragements against my ear as he squeezes my throat a little tighter, driving his hips faster.
“Not yet, my beautiful wife. Squeeze me harder with my cunt and take my knot.”
Valentine slams his knot inside, obliterating my mind and dominating my senses. He falls forward, covering me completely. His mouth is on mine, and he only stops squeezing his hand around my throat to blow espresso-tainted air into my lungs. I can’t hold on as he rails into me, but even if my armswere free, I don’t think I’d be able to do a thing, except be completely, and utterly, owned by him.
Time fades as we become a blur of sensation and raw power. He drives our pleasure until we’re at the highest point before he somehow stops everything.
There is no noise in my ears.
There are no thoughts in my head.
There is no hesitation in my heart.
So, when he lets his hand go from around my throat and whispers quietly for me to let go, I plunge.
With him.
I scream my release into his open and waiting mouth. He swallows with a kiss. His tongue fills my mouth as he shares his air with me while satisfying my aural kink with a sensual song of his heavy melodic grunts and deep strangled groans.
I feel him explode inside my pussy. My muscles spasm around his twitching cock as he empties time and time again, pushing me straight on to another, softer orgasm that has me biting down on his shoulder.
45
Valentine
“Come back to me.” Layne’s voice trails off as her lips kiss over the base of my throat. It’s only a brief touch, but it feels immense. Another soft exhale against my skin, then she’s pushing me away. “Go, Valentine.”
“Put the dogs on high alert. If something happens, you run to Jana. If we don’t make contact within twelve hours, message Ronin or Santiago. I sent their details to your phone.”
She smiles at me, using her eyes to fill in the spaces where words seem inadequate. I know she’s worried, but at the same time, her faith in us is motivating enough to keep my battle nerves at bay. And that is what we are doing.
Tonight, we start our future. Tomorrow, we finish with our past.
Matteo and Dante have spent time with her. Separately and together. It hasn’t been a time of placating her fears; they’ve spent the time laughing and kissing the living shit out of my wife.
After I untied a very satisfied version of Layne, Dante was waiting when I opened the door, his suit in one hand, his stiffcock in the other. I stood over them as he fucked her with a desperation that mirrored mine. But Dante needed to feel her touches, whereas I needed her submission.
When my brother filled her cunt, I painted her face, and the clawing in my chest only intensified. The surge of emotion wasn’t based on fear; it was burning impatience and a simmering lust for blood that she fed by simply being the woman I’ve fallen for.
Even watching them afterward, while I showered in ice-cold water, my dick stayed hard and my heartbeat erratic. I knew already I’d kill over and over if anyone so much as looked at her wrong, but seeing the way she was with Dante, and Matteo, was the confirmation I didn’t need. In no time at all, they’ve become as devoted to her as I am.
