"Connor, please," she gasps when I break the kiss to trail my mouth down her throat. "I need you inside me."
I reach behind her and unhook the bra, pulling it from her shoulders and tossing it aside. Her tits spill free, full, soft, nipples tight and dark. I take one in my mouth, sucking hard while my hand palms the other. She arches off the bed with a cry, fingers scrabbling at my back, nails digging in.
"Yes—like that—"
I switch sides, biting gently, then soothing with my tongue. My free hand slides between her legs again, circling her clit until she's writhing, hips lifting, chasing my touch.
"Connor, I'm going to—"
"Not yet."
The head of my cock nudges her entrance. She's dripping, coating me already. I brace one hand beside her head and look down at her.
"Eyes on me," I say.
She obeys, locking those gold-flecked brown eyes on mine.
I push in slowly, inch by inch, watching her face for any sign of pain. She's tight, her body resisting at first, but she breathes through it, one hand on my chest, the other gripping my bicep.
"Breathe, Anya," I murmur, kissing her forehead, her temple, the scar side of my face brushing her cheek. "You've got me. And I’ve got you."
She nods, and when I'm fully buried to the hilt, her walls clenching around me like a vice, she lets out a shaky moan. "God, you feel so good."
I hold still, giving her time, but she doesn't want it. Her legs tighten around me, heels digging in again. "Move, Connor.Fuck me."
The demand snaps the last thread of my control. I pull back and thrust in hard, setting a deep, steady rhythm. The bed creaks under us. Her tits bounce with every stroke, and I can't resist leaning down to suck one into my mouth again while I drive into her.
Anya isloud. Not shy at all. She moans my name, gasps encouragements—"harder," "deeper," "right there." Her nails rake down my back; her hips rise to meet every thrust. She's wildbeneath me, taking everything I give and demanding more, her body arching, pussy fluttering around my cock as she gets closer.
I shift my angle, hitting that spot inside her that makes her cry out. One hand slides between us to rub her clit in tight circles.
"Come for me, wife," I growl against her ear. "Let me feel you."
Her back bows off the bed, walls clamping down on me in rhythmic pulses, a broken cry tearing from her throat. I keep thrusting through it, drawing it out, until her body goes limp and trembling beneath me.
But I'm not done.
She makes a broken sound of surprise when I pull out and flip her onto her stomach, pulling her hips up so she's on her knees, ass in the air. She pushes back against me immediately, greedy even after coming.
"Again," she demands, voice hoarse. "Don't stop."
I grip her hips and push back in, the new angle letting me go even deeper. She fists the sheets, pushing back to meet me thrust for thrust. I reach around and find her clit again, rubbing in time with my strokes.
"Connor—fuck—I'm going to come again—"
"Yes, Anya. Give it to me."
She shatters a second time, muffling her scream in the pillow. The feel of her pulsing around me drags me right to the edge. But it’s when she says, “Please Connor, fill me with your hot cum,” that I can’t hold back any longer. I bury myself as far as I can go and come with a guttural groan, hips jerking as I fill her cunt.
After a moment, I pull out carefully and help her turn before sliding my fingers into her and keeping them there.
She's smiling, sated, a little dazed.
I drop a kiss on the corner of her mouth. "You okay?"
"Better than okay." She presses a kiss to my scarred cheek, then my lips. "That was... worth waiting for."
I laugh softly, pulling her closer. "We're just getting started."
