“Open up for me.” His hand slips to the small of my back. “Drop your back and move with me.”
My body seems to know what he’s asking andholy hell. The sound I make is pure animal. My fingers twist in the bedding—I never knew it could be like this.I used to think no one really made these kinds of noises, not unless there was a cameraman about.
“You’re mine, Lavender.” He falls forward, his teeth pressing my shoulder. Two fingers turn my face to meet his. Our kiss is slow, wet, and a little desperate as Raif swallows the tiny pleading sounds of my delightful misery. “Mine to love and fuck.”
My insides pulse in time to my thoughts. More.Lie to me.More. Love me.
I screw my eyes tight. I know it’s not real. I know I’m supposed to be on my guard, but I’ve never met anyone like him. I just want to do this forever. Annoying him. Loving him?
He says something I don’t understand—speaks rasping words in a language I don’t know.
“Tell me. Tell me what you said.”
“I hurt from wanting you.” He pauses. “My wife.”
Such poetry as, with each flex of his hips, he owns me and steals a little more of my heart. He bends my body and my mind until I don’t know where I end and he begins.
And then,there!I cry out, throwing back my head. “Oh God. Oh, Raif!”
“So deep.”
The collision, the blunt feel of him drives me higher, my orgasm teetering. I want to watch, want to see the thick slide of him, kiss him, take his cock in my mouth.
Everywhere and all at once.God, I get it.
“Oh, oh! I’m—
“Yes, that’s it, sweetheart. Let go.”
He moves through my climax with a deep undulation of his hips, pleasure spiraling and spiraling, my insides pulsing, tears falling as my muscles shake, and I mutter unintelligible words.
I fall forward on my arms, and Raif follows me, kissing my face and my neck, groaning as I pulse around him.
“Oh my God!” I sound so happy. Is that what sex is supposed to feel like? Heat and passion and need. Relief. Releases. And joy. So much fucking joy!
“Yeah. Who knew, huh?”
I don’t even care that I said that.
“Well done, princess.”
I huff out a chuckle that doesn’t last as his hand comes to cradle my neck, the other hauling me up from the waist.
“What—”
Still inside me, my back to his front, our kiss is wet and messy.
“Give me one more,” he whispers. It doesn’t sound like a request as I find myself moaning around his fingers.Fingers that taste like me.
“One more.Sucha good girl for me.” His hand cups my breast, the other sinking lower, his fingers swiping a small circle around my clit. I jolt—shudder—the strings of my climax lingering, reviving, inviting another.
Our bodies sweaty and slick, my mind sinks into pure pleasure, purr bliss, as his compliments objectify and venerate at the same time.
“My wife. My infuriating, maddening, hot as fuck wife.”
It’s still poetry as skin slaps and bodies bounce, my orgasm gathering like a tsunami inside.
“I’m going to come inside my wife,” he grunts. “Fill her tight pussy until she’s dripping.”
