He’s taken me on the side of the road after impatiently tossing me over his shoulder, leaving this mansion, and heading for our home.
But never here. Never in that chair.
4
SHE’S MY HEAVEN.
London drops to her knees, and my cock pulses. I can feel the drops of pre-come as they bead at the tip and then roll, caressing my shaft while my wife crawls closer.
Each one feels like her tongue. Soft and slow.
Then, it’s her scent. She’s all around me.
Consuming me. Driving me past the point of rationality, that fine edge that most consider dangerous and I embrace. This is more than an obsession. This is more than lust.
Even on her knees, my wife is a queen.
She’s my everything.
Slowly, hips swaying and with her crystal blue eyes on mine, she comes closer. She’s pretty pink lips slightly parted and flushed skin. She’s a soft floral scent and desire.
My greatest gift.
“Don’t move,” she croons just as she places a hand on my thigh, her nails raking up and down my pant-covered flesh. “Hands on the armrest or—”
“Beautiful, you have five minutes to do your worst. Not a second more.” This leaves me in a barely controlled growl, the sound harsh as it leaves my chest, and she shivers. Goose bumps break out across her skin, and those eyes look up at me from beneath long lashes. So sexy.
“You don’t control this.” I do, but I don’t say a word and just watch the small little smile that crosses her lips. “My game, my rules.”
“Show me.” At my challenge, nimble fingers pop the button and then lower my zipper, her mouth leaving a fiery trail of kisses across the newly exposed skin. My muscles coil and my hands clench as the cool air greets my cock when she pulls me out. My eyes follow her lips and an animalistic sound leaves me when she licks the bulbous tip.
Twirl hums with pleasure at my taste.
She envelops the head and swirls her tongue, grinning as I groan.
“Open your mouth, baby. Let me kiss the back of your throat.”
“Patience.”
“Twirl, I will...fuck,” I hiss from between clenched teeth, my fingernails digging into the wood of my chair. Her little mouth feels like heaven, soft and hot, but it’s the sight of it stretched to its limits at the base of my cock that has me weak. She’s never taken me this far down.
Her hum around my girth and the way she swallows sends pleasure rippling through every nerve. Every cell in my body feels on fire, throbs as she slowly pulls up leaving just the tip within her lips.
There’s a saucy smirk on her face. A taunting glint in her expressive eyes. “How much time do I have on the clock?”
That little...
London made me momentarily lose focus, and I’m ready to end her game when she bobs down to the base once more. “Fuck.”
“Happy Early Valentine’s Day,” is all she says, and then I’m back to gritting my teeth and holding my breath, letting her worship my cock like the perfect little wife she is. My eyes follow her every move, each stroke of those perfect lips that wrap around me while hollowing her cheeks; her hold is like a vice, and I’m fighting back the urge to ruin those glossy lips.
I give her the moment to lick me from base to tip and then take me to the back of her throat, her spit coating my balls. It’s wet and messy and on her next downward stroke, I give in to my baser need and grip the back of her head, holding her there.
Twirl doesn’t struggle. She doesn’t gag.
Instead, the little beauty uses her tongue to massage the underside of my length. My hips buck of their own accord. My grip on her head tightens, but as I mentally count to thirty, I flip the controls.
I have her on my cock and gasping for breath before she can try and fight it. Her back is to my chest and her legs spread wide over my knees.
She’s splayed and wet and looks like a perfect little slut bouncing on my dick.
There’s no break or slowing down. I control her movements now and thrust harshly with each downward buck of her hips. With each bounce, her perfect ass meets my hips and I dig my fingers into pliant flesh as her head lolls. She nestles into my shoulder and her eyes close, a look of rapture on her face.
The sight alone makes my balls grow heavy. Then, there’s the ripped-up see-through and a perfect tease of a number that’s almost my undoing. Her nipples are hard and tease through thin lace, and her stomach clenches with each powerful snap of my hips.
“You feel so good, baby. Fuck, you’re perfect,” I growl out, slipping a hand over her tight stomach and then lower, stopping over her pink flesh. It’s swollen and wet, a needy little cunt. “And all mine.”
“Yours.” It leaves her on a pained whimper a second after the tips of two fingers smack her clit. And then I do it again just to feel her walls squeeze me tight—to feel the rush of wetness bathe my cock. “I’m yours and you are mine.”
Turning my face, I place my lips at her throat, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. “In this life and every one that follows.”
Those words are her undoing, and I fuck her through an orgasm that leaves her whimpering, crying out in painful pleasure as I take her now for my own.
My strokes are rough—punishing—for making me a slave to her love. I’m glistening in her wetness, my cock slick and swollen as I force her to take every angry inch of me.
Fire burns my veins while the sweet scent
