“Quill,” she shudders, breathing into my chest. “We have to… the packing… the car’s outside.”
“There’s just enough time for a quickie.”
“No, Quill! Logan’s waiting!”
“Let him wait.”
“Quill, stop! Stop!”
But the glint in her eye betrays what she really wants, and hearing her resist like that, knowing she’s getting off on it, makes me hard. I push her down on the mattress, angling my cock between her legs. She moans when I drive it into her in one thrust.
“Quill…”
Her body tightens around mine and I grit my teeth, my arms hugging her to me as I begin to pump in and out of her. I like the freaky stuff. But sometimes, there’s just nothing like missionary.
It feels appropriate as the first fuck I’m giving my wife.
“Fuck the papers,” I huff out as I drive my cock into her pussy. I press a thumb to her clit and she moans. Then I dip toward her breasts and suckle on one of her tits.
“Fuck the ceremony,” I manage between licks of her nipples. “You’re mine. Doesn’t matter what we call it. You’ve been mine forever, and you always will be.”
“Yes,” she groans, wrapping her legs around me and dragging me even closer to her, her hands raking over my back hard enough to leave angry red streaks. “Yes, Quill, I’m your wife. I want to be your wife.”
I thrust into her forcefully, drinking in the intoxicating sensation of being inside her. I’m regretting the car already. I know I should be thankful to be getting back to Astley. But something unsettles me about the prospect. It’s like we’re aboutto burst the bubble of safety and love that we’ve sunken into. That’s what it is, isn’t it? The twisting nerves growing deep in my stomach. It’s hard to identify the reason for them, so I tell myself it’s the thought of leaving a place where it felt like we were the only two people in the world. Plus Josh.
I push that thought aside, because I don’t want Josh to be in my mind when I come inside my wife. I still for a moment, until my brain is back to focusing on Piper, only Piper, and nothing else. She starts grinding against me, desperate to come, and in punishment, I remove my thumb from her clit.
“Quill! I was going to come! Please, Quill!”
Wife or not, I guess I’ll always have a thing for edging her. Even though it means frustrating myself too.
I breathe slowly, sinking my head into the crook between her neck and her shoulder. “Be a good girl, now,” I murmur. “Stop moving.”
It seems to take a super-human effort judging by the spasm that courses through her body, making her tighten around my cock, but she obeys, going completely still.
“You belong to me, do you hear?” I say hoarsely, tense with the need for her. “I control everything about you. Down to your orgasms.”
“Yes, Quill.” Her voice is thick with lust. “I want you to control me.”
“Beg for it, cricket. Beg me to come.”
“Please,” she says tremulously. “Please let me come. Please… fuck!”
I’m back to driving inside her, and my thumb rubbing against her clit makes her shudder and spasm around me. A few more thrusts, and I’m filling her with seed just as she’s coming in a scream. I fall over her, my dick still in her pussy, keeping my cum inside her, as I breathe hard against her neck.
At last I pull away and flip over to my back, still holding her tome.
“The packing, Quill.”
I smack her ass hard and she yelps before I at last let her go. She stands up slowly, looking just as regretful as I feel.
“Well, come on. Let’s go.”
“You pack. I’ll watch,” I repeat.
“Quill!” She stomps her foot, making her tits bounce. “This isn’t the 1950s. I’m not going to be cooking and cleaning for you, just because Iamyour wife.”
“Thank God,” I grin, thinking back to her constantly messy room, and to the one time I allowed her to make me food. We’d ended up with raw chicken and burnt broccoli. “But I want to see you pack. Naked. You left all your clothes in a pile over there. Bend over and pick them up.”
