Page 75
Story: Bloody Wedding
She needs me, and there isn’t anything I won’t give my wife when she requires it.
That’s why I grip Loni’s hand, leading her up two flights of stairs until we’re on the third floor. For a moment, I see her confusion. She must think that I’m bring her to her office space, but when I lead her toward the farthest closed door, she suddenly understands.
“Your study? You told me that you didn’t want me in here.”
True. My whole enterprise is stored in this room. There are things that I can’t let even Loni see… but I locked everything up in their drawers before the party started earlier tonight. No one would ever dare search for me in this room—my fiercely guarded study has a reputation of its own—which makes it the perfect spot to have a little quiet time with my wife.
“Without me,” I remind her. “But we’re together, aren’t we?”
“I.. yes. Butwhy?”
Oh, Loni. If you don’t know the answer to that, I’ve done a piss-poor job as your husband...
Once we’re in the darkened room, I don’t bother with a light switch. Instead, parking Loni by my oversized (and suspiciously empty) mahogany desk, I head over to the fireplace on the opposite side of the room. There’s a button on the wall beside it, next to the timer that sets how long the fire will burn. I figure we have a good twenty minutes before our guests notice that we’re missing, and since I couldn’t care less if they do or not, I set the timer for half an hour.
That’s the minimum amount of time I need to enjoy my wife—or to let her enjoy me.
Turning on her, a lascivious and starving smile tugging on my lips, I prowl toward her. Suddenly, I’m the big, bad wolf bearing down on a wee, innocent lamb. Everything about my body language to my purposeful stalk sells the image of a hunter tracking his prey, especially when she takes a few uneasy steps behind the desk.
Perfect.
Before she knows it, I’m right behind her. A careful kick to my chair—careful so I don’t break my toe or the chair’s leg—has it skidding out of reach. She yips, and I grin.
Her back is to me. I grab the edge of the desk, pinning her between me and it. There’s no fucking way she can miss myerection grinding against her ass in this position. Her leggings are delightfully thin. I could fuck her right through them if I wanted to, but that’s not exactly what I do want right now.
Loni doesn’t try to escape. Her breaths quicken, her pulse jumping, but as though we’ve done this a hundred times before—and we certainly have had experience in this position, only not since I forced her to marry me—she arches her back, presenting her ass to me so I can take her from behind.
But first?—
Using my body to keep her in place, I grip the waistband of her leggings. One quick push and I have them down by her feet. Normally, I would just grab her soaked panties, move them over her mound, and not waste time getting them off. But tonight… let’s show some restraint, Adrian.
So, with a little more finesse, I work her panties down, and then I wait for her next move.
Loni wiggles her ass, letting out a sound of pure impatience. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you doing anything?”
Well… if she insists.
I drop down behind her, squatting so that my face is on the level of her ass cheeks. I palm one, squeezing it, loving the way she throws back her head and mutters my name as if she wants more.
I have a plan. After all, I usually do. But before I can enact it, I need to make sure that she’s ready for me. And while I could use a finger, dragging it along her slit, testing to see how wet she is, she gave me permission when she asked why I wasn’t doing anything yet.
The old Adrian would skip foreplay for a frantic fuck because he was too desperate to be part of Loni before she came to her senses and pushed him away. Now? I won’t stop worshipping my wife until she finally understands that, while I call her ‘princess’, she’s nothing less than a queen to me.
So I stick my tongue into her pussy from behind. She’s so fucking wet, I get a solid mouthful of her juices. Musky and sweet, I lap at her, swallowing it straight from the source.
“Yes,” she groans. “I… we shouldn’t be doing this, but, God,yes.”
Shouldn’t be doing this? No. We’re married, and nothing will ever separate us again. I’ll make sure of it, and if part of reminding her of that fact is fucking her until she forgets she ever hated me, that’s what I’m going to do.
Only tonight? I’m going to do one better.
Rising up again, I fist her hair, turning her head so that I can make her taste herself on my lips as I kiss her.
Loni whimpers, but she doesn’t pull away. She kisses me in return, and I find a little relief, thrusting slightly against the cleft of her ass.
I swipe my tongue along her bottom lip, then bite down on it with my two front teeth. Not hard, never hard, but it’s hard enough that she jerks in place, backing up fully against my groin so that not even I can move away from her promising heat.
I’m still dressed. Her leggings are down at her ankles, her panties twisted among the fabric. I have my hands under her shirt, squeezing her tits as I bury my face into her hair.
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