“It’s fine.” I kiss her cheek. “I know how to multitask.”
“Don’t you want to fuck your wife, Kane?” Those big blue eyes are solely fixed on me as she takes my dick out, stroking me from base to tip.
“Fuck,” I moan at her touch and claim.
“Exactly.” She smoothly straddles me, distracting me further as her lips brush mine. “Fuck…your wife.”
I stretch my arms on the back of the sofa to watch her as she lifts up, lining my dick up. The flickering murder scene behind her casts her body in different shadows, highlighting parts of hercurves while hiding others. My wife is about to drop down on my dick with the same movie playing in the background as our first kiss.
“Scared?” I taunt her.
“I hate this part,” she whispers, flinching at the lights reflecting around us.
“Why are you dripping down my dick if you hate it?” I roughly thrust up into her as I grab her hair in my fist, pulling her head back, so she’s forced to watch the screen upside down while clenching around my dick. “There’s my little whore,” I coo, kissing her chest.
I bite down to her nipple, pull it between my teeth, then alternate the pressure until her moans match the frequency I want them to be.
“I have one arm, but that’s all I need to control my slutty wife,” I say, my voice deep with awe and lust. I slowly fuck her as she flinches at the horrific images of murder playing on the screen as I bite into her neck.
“Kane,” she moans, widening her thighs to get closer.
“Beg me. Beg me to abuse your tight little ass and make you fucking scream.”
“More,” she moans low in her throat.
I kick the table out of the way, sliding down to the floor so she’s forced to watch the movie. Laying with my head flat on the floor, my feet propped on the sofa, and my wife sitting on my dick with her hands on my knees, I know I’m the luckiest fucker on the planet. Delilah doesn’t need any instruction as she strokes up my thigh to carefully remove the plug from her ass. But I don’t let her off my dick as I hold her hip, grinding up into her. “Come.”
She pushes up on her toes, tilting her hips forward as she plays with her tits while I spit up onto her clit. Her eyes flick from me to the screen as the creepy music plays, then quickly tothe glass walls. She yelps when I flick my middle finger off her clit.
“I am the only fucking thing haunting you,” I grit.
I buck up, knocking her off-balance so she slides down onto my face, and pull her clit between my teeth. Fear has always made her more eager, and now is no different as she rides my fucking face. The intense music prevents her from noticing me grab the lube I hid earlier. As much as she loves the pain when I fuck her ass, I want this—the first day of our married lives—to start differently than the other times, so I coat my dick while I work my tongue in her sweet cunt.
“Kane!” she screams, clenching as she grabs my hair. “Fuck!”
I don’t bring her down or give her time to recover as I slap my lubed fingers on her ass. Instead, I grab her arm to drag her back to her toes. “Sit your tight little ass on my dick.”
She’s dazed from her fear as she shakily stretches back to hold onto my thigh with one hand. Taking my dick with the other, she slowly works me into her ass while the screen illuminates the way she stretches for me, her stomach constricting around her moans. Moans only containing my name and a finger bearing my rings.
“Look at your needy fucking cunt weeping for me.” I slap the inside of her thigh, spitting on her clit.
“More.”
“What more do you need?” I scoff. “Should I shove my arm in you too?”
She. Fucking. Whimpers.
I’ve thought about doing it every single day, but it’s the one thing I’ve held back. Fuck it, we’re only getting married once when we’re both conscious. I press my fingers flat on her stomach, stilling her as she has half of my dick inside her ass then rub the soft, fleshy part of my stump where the muscle has atrophied against her clit, testing her reaction. As always, shedoesn’t shy away from me. She moans at the friction on her clit, so I test her further, pushing my thumb against my stub to push inside of her. She’s too tight to take me yet, so I continue rubbing her clit with my thumb as I work three fingers into her.
“Fuck!” Her eyes roll back. “Too much.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I snap, working another finger into her then my thumb. I slowly stretch my hand out, pinch my fingers together, before stretching them out again. When she starts rocking her hips to take more, I pull my hand free to slowly work the malleable part of my arm into her.
“Fuck me,” I moan at the sight as the end credits of the movie play, bathing everything in a soft cream light. “Don’t fucking move.”
She whimpers, her thighs shaking with the urge to move while I try to commit the image to memory. Her cunt is stretched around my forearm, almost tricking me into thinking the rest of my arm is deep inside her if it wasn’t for the scars crawling up to my elbow. Tears sparkle in her beautiful eyes as she whimpers again, fighting the urge to move.
“Cry for me, koukla mou,” I beg. “Wash away my sins.”
