And what’s better, she sinks into the pleasure. I’m sure she’s going to take everything I give her.
15
WREN
Oh my god. Saint’s mouth should be designated as a weapon. My thighs shake from another orgasm, and he’s showing no signs of stopping.
I’m not sure I want him to, but it’s so much.
Then, he uses his fingers until I come again. And again.
I can’t anymore. I’m going to crawl out of my body if he keeps going like this. Every nerve ending on fire, I’m like a livewire, writhing under his touch, and when I’m throbbing and overloaded, I push at his forehead gently.
“Please. God. Stop.”
He does. Right away, lifting to look at me, those hazel eyes sparking. “You okay? Did I hurt you?”
The rough concern in his voice has half a laugh falling out of me. “No. I’m a puddle of mush.”
His soft laugh winds me up. I don’t think I’ve heard him laugh the entire time I’ve been at the club.
He holds my knees together and stands, wiping hair from my forehead and cheek. I like the way he looks at me. With affection—not just attraction. No one’s looked at me quite that way before.
It’s sweet, and it has me shaking more than the multiple orgasms did.
Those big hands of his smooth over my outer thighs as he drops a kiss on the outside of my knee.
God, he is not at all like I thought he would be. Ruthless as he ate my pussy, but so gentle now.
When the shakes settle, he lets my legs drop and helps me to my knees. I can’t keep myself up right, and I want to fulfill the other half of what he promised me.
I want him to teach me how to take a cock down my throat. It seems impossible. I choke on my toothbrush if I brush too far back on my tongue. But I want to bring him a drop of the pleasure he just wrung out of me.
I reach for his belt, and his fingers run through my hair, once, twice, and then he’s got the mass of it tangled in his fist as I draw his hard cock out of his jeans. One pump, and I’m surprised by how silky the skin is. How soft but hard he is all at once.
Thick against my palm and shapely.
I’m no prude. I’ve watched my fair share of porn—even if I prefer stories over video. Saint is shapely.
I can fit him in both of my hands, squeezing his base and running my thumb over the tip. Moisture spreads under my touch.
Saint’s grip tightens, tips me back so that I look up into his eyes. They’re a bright spot of color against the black and white of his hair and beard.
“Open.” His voice is gruff, and it sends a pang down to my overly sensitive core.
I cup the head of his cock with my tongue in one languid lick before I leave my mouth open for him.
His low growl tightens my nipples. Saint lays his free hand over one of mine and tips himself between my lips. I partially drop my grip, bracing a hand against his thigh.
I take him to the back of my mouth and suck. His responding groan is delightful.
“Mmm, that’s good, wife. Take a little more. Swallow when it feels like you’re about to gag.” He tilts me a little more and presses in.
I choke, and he backs off. But I grab onto his jeans to be sure he doesn’t go too far. I can do this.
“Breathe.” Saint caresses my cheek.
I do, sucking in slow breaths before I squeeze the base of his cock again. Ready.
