Page 493 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset
Edward
I can’t get enough of her. I can’t. Tied up in my knots, wearing the marks of the rope I’ve wrapped around her, with her flesh flushed by my ministrations, she’s the most beautiful creature to grace this earth.
I drag my tongue up her pussy lips, and when I bite down on the swollen knob of her clit, her entire body shudders.
Her thighs quiver, and her breasts swell.
She makes that telltale moan at the back of her throat, and I know she’s close.
Not to mention, she’s so wet, I can’t stop lapping at her entrance.
I continue to eat her out, and when full body shudders grip her, I rise over her.
I fit my cock to her opening, and plunge into her.
"Eddie," she gasps.
"You’re so wet, so tight." I grit my teeth, giving her time to adjust to my size. No matter how many times I take her, it feels like the first time. "Belle," I groan and push my forehead into hers. "You feel so fucking good."
She clenches down on my shaft, and the tiny flutters of her inner-walls embracing my shaft, drain the blood to my groin.
I begin to fuck her in earnest. In-out-in, and again.
Every time I bury myself in her, the entire bed shudders.
Every time I pull out, she moans in frustration.
The heat generated from us presses down on my back.
Sweat drips down my forehead. The next time I slam into her, she cries out.
Her back arches, and her eyelids flutter down.
"Look at me as you come, wife."
She manages to meet my gaze, and her pupils are so dilated with lust, and something else, something soft that sends me over the edge.
"Come with me." My balls tighten. "Come right now, Belle."
Her mouth opens in a soundless cry. She topples over the edge, and I follow her. My climax seems to go on and on, as I pour myself into her. When she slumps, I begin to pull out of her. The mix of her cum and mine slides down her thigh, and I reach down and stuff it back inside her cunt.
"What are you doing?" Her voice is slurred.
"Making sure you take every last drop of what’s mine."
When I’m satisfied, I sit up, pulling her up with me. Then I reach behind her and untie the knots at her back, then at her legs. I ease her back onto the bed and stretch out her arms and legs. I begin to massage them with long strokes, and she sighs, "That’s so nice…" She yawns.
"Sleep." I kiss her eyelids closed. Her body twitches, and I know she’s out. I walk over to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth, and run it down her body. Then I pull the covers over her before walking back to the bathroom and tossing the washcloth in the hamper. I get dressed but can’t tear myself away from her.
So I pull up a chair and watch her sleep.
Can I give you my confession? I’ve done this before—watched her sleep.
Before she even knew me. There, I’ve told you.
Now I need to confess to her, and accept whatever penance she deems fit.
But not yet. Not until I know she’s bound to me in a way nothing on earth can break that connection. A few more days, is all I need… I hope.
She stretches, yawns, then her gaze finds mine. "What time is it?"
"Not even noon."
"What are we doing today?"
"Not much, considering…" I nod toward the window.
She follows my gaze, and her mouth drops open. "Whoa, it’s a snowstorm out there."
"It is. And it’s supposed to go on for a few days."
"A few days?" She turns to me. "So we’re stuck inside here?"
"Seems that way."
"Hmm." She sits up, and the sheet falls to her waist. "I wonder how we’re going to fill our time?"
Perhaps, that was a rhetorical question. There's never been any question in my mind that I'm going to use the time to get to know every inch of her body thoroughly. And she seems perfectly amenable to my plans.
I took her in our bed, again, then made us lunch.
For dessert, I had her on the island. And I told her I'm not much a dessert-eater—ha!
I let her catch a nap while I worked out, needed to keep up my energy for the coming days, after all.
Then, it was an early dinner, for which I reheated a casserole.
Post dinner, we curled up in the settee in front of the fire while the snowfall outside was so dense, it felt like we were marooned on an island.
She stretched out, and I read to her from one of her spicy books.
She began to squirm, and when she looked at me with her dilated eyes, I knew what she wanted.
I positioned her on the bed, on her knees with her behind in the air and a pillow under her chest. When I pulled her arms back and tied her wrists to her ankles, she moaned with excitement.
The cum running down her inner thighs, and the gleaming pink of her pussy told me how turned on she was.
Which, in turn, turned me on. There was so much wetness, I scooped it up and used it to lubricate her back channel.
She shuddered. I thought she’d protest, but she pushed out her butt in invitation.
I checked in with her, made sure she called me by the name only she does, then I fucked her there.
I made sure she orgasmed before I allowed myself to come.
Then, I made sure to clean her up before I curled around her and fell asleep.
When I wake up, the light coming in through the windows is a golden yellow.
It's stopped snowing, and the sun illuminates the arches of the clouds in the sky and highlights her curves. She’s standing naked at the window, with her hand pressed into the glass.
The light turns her hair to a cloud of spun gold, and outlines the dip of her waist, the flare of her round bottom.
My cock hardens at once. Without conscious thought, I prowl toward her, then wrap my arm about her waist and bring her against my naked body.
Apparently, now that I’ve shown myself naked to her, I feel comfortable enough to stay that way.
"Mmm." She turns around and reaches up to touch my face. "Merry Christmas."
I tilt my head, unable to bring myself to say the words.
There was a time when I looked forward to this time of year, when I threw myself into the spirit of the season.
When I led Advent services, led community efforts, visited the older parishioners at home to bring them the Eucharist. I also presided over the Christmas Eve Mass, and I enjoyed it.
I used the season to help families reconcile differences and learn the importance of helping others. I was good at my chosen line of work.
Now? It all seems so pointless. To have believed in something and been happy at that time…
I suppose, that counts for something. It certainly helped me through some tough times, providing hope when I was bereft.
Only now, I question if my faith was misplaced?
I believed…and was let down. This time, I'm not leaving anything to chance.
Or some nonexistent or uncaring god. This time, I'm in control. I’ll make sure I get what I want… Her.
I cup her cheek, then bend and kiss her lips. "Sleep well?"
"I did." Her lips curve in a smile.
So beautiful, so open, so happy, so everything I’m not. My heart catches. I tighten my grip on her.
Her forehead furrows. "And you?"
"Never better." No nightmares, no ghosts from the past haunting my thoughts. I feel refreshed and full of energy and…my cock throbs between us. "Horny."
She glances down, then up at me, her eyes wide. "Again?"
"If you’re too sore—"
She shakes her head, then pulls out of my grasp. "But you’ll have to catch me."
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