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I make quick work of my boxer briefs, and my dick fits beautifully between her asscheeks. She's grinding so hard against me, the soft skin of her ass so delicious against the heat of my dick. Her sweet cunt is chasing my fingers. Her stomach tenses against my arm, and I know she's so fucking close to losing it, to breaking for me.
I get lost in the citrusy scent of her silky hair, the way her body moves, the feel of her in my embrace, those breathy little sighs, and the way she moans my name. Is she dreaming about me? Am I making her come on my tongue in those dreams? My fingers?My cock?
It would be so fucking easy to slip past this tiny piece of fabric… but no. When I slip into her for the first time, she'll be awake. She'll be staring into my eyes, so she knows it's me, and not some fever dream. And she'll fight me. I know she will. But the thought of her taking out her anger on me, struggling against me, pushes me over the brink, just as she squeezes my fingers so tight I'm pretty sure she's cutting off the circulation, but I let her ride it out,praisingher.
I can't help myself this time. I softly roll her on her back and carefully bury my face between her thighs. I'm not exactly sure what to do, but the heady scent of her cum is heavy under the blankets, calling for me to lick it up. I rest my head on the juncture between her thigh and her sex, and my tongue seems to know exactly what to do.
A tangy, sweet flavor bursts on my taste buds, licking lazily at the little bud I feel, and soon I'm diving in, seeking more of her pleasure to drench my tongue, sucking on one lip then the other, shoving my tongue deep into her entrance, licking her pussy clean until she's quivering. I don't want her to come. I want her to feel unsatisfied. I want her to ache for me during the day. I want her pussy to miss me. My tongue. My fingers.Me.
So I back away, go to the bathroom, and paint the fucking mirror with my cum. I cleaning it, myself, the sink, and the counter. It's a waste. It should be inside of my wife. Keeping her filled up. I should be breeding her.
The thought alone makes my dick roar back to life, so I jerk off a second time, making the same mess I did before.
Somewhat satisfied, I go back to my wife, snoring softly beneath the blankets, and settle in behind her. I stare up at the ceiling, listening to her soft little purrs, before turning and placing a small kiss on her temple. I drag her into my chokehold, reveling in the way her small frame fits with mine.
It's only when she begins to stir in the morning hours, as the sun's first rays start peeking through the blinds, that I leave her bed. I miss her scent, and that’s when I know, I'm royally fucked.
It continues like that every night on our spontaneous honeymoon. During the day she learns to bake pastries with the wives until she'smastered them. I've gained five pounds from eating her treats… and her pussy.
I'm addicted.
Even when the weighted blanket shows up, and it could solve both our problems, I don’t give it to her. Every night when her little murmurs begin, I slip my tongue into her, my mouth already salivating for a mere drop of her exquisite taste. I beg her to stop me, tell her to wake up and push me off but she never does. I’m amazed she hasn’t noticed the pool of cum I’ve left at the foot of the bed, no longer allowing myself to step away from her, simply leaving a puddle because she’s gotten more vocal and it’s so fucking hot to watch. I lick through the aftershocks of her orgasms; the taste that follows makes me come with her. Every time.
It’s explosive.
It’s divine.
I never want it to end.
But it does.
BecauseParkershows up on the fourth day ofour forced honeymoon.
Chapter Fifteen
Parker.
Four fucking days.
It takes mefour fucking daysto find the little village outside of Verona where Maksim's family lives.
Four. Days.
That's not the worst part.
The worst part, mind you, is that once I found it, the village was so heavily guarded I couldn't sneak in... until Wednesday morning, when everyone and their mother went to Mass just down the road at an old, gorgeous church. Only about twenty percent of the guards remained.
Then it decided to rain.
Hard.
And it was fifty degrees out.
So by the time I showed up at Maksim's villa, I was tired, cold, hungry, and wet, literally shivering like a little bitch. When I knocked on the front door, some little Italian lady opened it, and behind her...Sabrina.
It's like I'm looking at a mirage. I want to take her in my arms. The surprise on her face is evident, but her eyes fill with tears as she takes me in.Hell yeah, my hellcat missed me.
"Oh my god! Get in here!" She bristles past the little old lady, grabs me by the sleeve of my shirt, and doesn't let me talk. She just shoves me into the nearest bathroom so I can shower. Because I'm disgusting. But I don't care. I watch the rest of the grime that didn't wash off in the rain go down the drain as relief floods me. My entire body relaxes under the heat of the water, little rivers going down my body. I let myself relax further, placing my hands at the nape of my neck and letting my head hang back as far as it can.