by Mia Downing
“A thong under this nightgown is so sexy,” he breathed against her neck when he broke their kiss. “I love your ass, so tight. Skin so smooth. You’re so wet. I don’t think you’ve ever been this wet for me.”
His fingers ran back up along the side by her thigh and then dipped underneath the material, sinking into her slit. He didn’t waste time. He shoved one, then two fingers inside her slick pussy, pumping gently. And then he moved, swiftly, and was between her legs in a flash, his mouth fastening on her clit through the material of her thong.
The contact was so unexpected, yet so exciting, and her pussy convulsed in a hard spasm. She bucked against him, and he sucked harder. Then he lifted his face and tugged at the strings, drawing the material down. She helped him and, in a moment, his face was back where it belonged, between her thighs, his tongue exploring her folds, his fingers thrusting inside her pussy.
He lubricated his thumb and twisted his hand inside her. His thumb dipped into her ass, knuckle deep inside her tight rosette. She moaned and threaded her fingers into his hair, urging him to suck her harder, lap faster. Suddenly all she wanted was to come in his mouth, against his face. This was an orgasm she knew she could have, the non-proper type.
He lifted his face and withdrew his fingers. “Not so fast, wife.”
Why the hell not? She wriggled again, agitated. “I want to come, Jake. Please?”
“Ask your Husband if you can come.” He accentuated husband the way he would Sir or Master, expecting her to show respect the same way.
She looked into his eyes. They were lusty, demanding. He liked being Husband as much as he liked being Master. “Please make me come, Husband. Will you let me?”
“In a bit,” he said.
She growled her frustration.
He chuckled. “You want to come with me inside, remember?” He returned to fingering her clit, two fingers sliding inside her core, tickling her G-spot. “What would you like to do, besides come? We have all night. I’m not going to get you off quickly and ruin our wedding night.”
“May I—” Asking to suck his cock seemed too crude for the moment, not right for wedding sex. She blinked, not liking this new role one bit. “I would like to kiss you.”
He lowered his lips to hers, and she shoved him away. “No, not there.”
“Where, then?”
“Areas below?”
Jake laughed. “I love that my wife is having a hard time saying cock.”
She glared, despite what his fingers were doing deep inside her pussy. “Maybe that’s not what I want to kiss.”
He removed his fingers, rolled on the bed, and went back to his original position—hands behind his head against the headboard. Only now, he was completely naked, his erection bobbing from the movement he’d just made. “Then find your areas below that you’d like to kiss, that aren’t my cock, wife.”
“Is that a command? I don’t recall there being obey in our wedding vows.” And then she blinked, her breathing ratcheting up a notch. A statement like that would earn her a paddling in most scenes they played.
But Jake didn’t seem to mind one bit. “Oh, you promised to obey, but you also promised to be healthy, wealthy, and wise. None of that sickness stuff.”
“I don’t think I’d let you write our wedding vows.” She held the hem of her nightgown and straddled him, his cock nudging her ass as she sat back on his groin.
“Kiss what you want to kiss, wife,” he commanded softly. “Start obeying.”
She kissed his flat nipple first, sucking it lightly, then ran her tongue over to the other. The devil inside her had to see how far she could push him. “Can I use nipple clamps on you?”
“Not vanilla, wife.” He slapped her ass, and she sucked in a breath of pure ecstasy. She felt that all the way to the deepest part of her pussy. Good, he wasn’t going total pansy on her.
“I don’t think spanking is, either.”
He smacked her again, harder this time, and she bit her lip to keep in the moan of pleasure. “Start kissing.”
His skin tasted so good under her lips as she nibbled her way down his chest. She slid her pussy up and over his cock, then down the length on the outside, riding his thick ridge in one damp stroke. His fingers found her hair, and he sucked in a breath, holding the locks at her scalp with gentle insistence.
Finally, his cock was at face level. So thick. Eager. She didn’t usually give head. She’d been forced in the past by a bad Dom, and it was one of her standard hard limits. That and bodily functions were about all she wouldn’t do. In Paris, she had sucked Jake for the first time and had enjoyed the way he tasted and how it had pleased him to no end. She drew in a breath and kissed the head of his cock, damp with a drop of cum.
“Sit on my face,” he breathed as she took the thick head into her mouth. She sucked him for a moment, enjoying the silky smoothness of his skin against her lips, her mouth.
“Obey,” he growled.
She trembled as she climbed off him and straddled him the other way, kneeling over his face, her pussy right above his tongue. She had tempted him that way in Paris, but that was because she had to suck him to get him ready. It was easier to suck him in this position. But this was different, so sinful, her breaths coming in hot pants as she lowered her hips to just above his face, so close, yet far enough that his tongue would only taste air.
She looked down the length of her body but all she saw was the damned white nightgown. She went to tug it over her head, and he grabbed the hem.
“Don’t. It’s so sexy.” He held the silky material in one fist, and finally, she could see his face between her thighs, his eyes devouring her, as if she were some confection just out of his reach. “God, yes. I’ve dreamed of your pussy over my face like this since Paris. All I wanted was to lap at you. You were so wet. As wet as you are now. And you smelled like the finest perfume.”
Jake tugged her hips, and she sank downward, onto his tongue. And jumped at the shock of his mouth on her clit, immediately sucking. His hands ran along her sides from her hips to just under her ribcage, the material slippery and soft. He ran his tongue from her clit along one pussy lip to almost her ass, then back up to stab into her core, thrusting like he had with his tongue in her mouth.
“Yes,” she whispered and opened her eyes with a start. She never spoke during sex, unless it was to answer a question. Even their discussion a moment earlier was out of character for her. He must have liked it because his lips found her clit again and sucked, then nipped, and she bit back another cry.
Then the contact stopped, and she swallowed a cry of dismay. “You can be as vocal as you want, wife. In fact, I command it. I also command you to get to work. Maybe you’ll learn to say cock while you’re down there.”
She may not want to say cock during his stupid role-play, but she sure as hell knew what to do with one. He nipped her clit again and, this time, when she wanted to moan, she drew him in to the root and let the noise vibrate around his shaft. He tensed under her, and she sucked her way back to the tip.
Yes, he liked that. A lot. She could tell by the way he stiffened under her, his hands clutching her hips. Her fingers cupped his testicles, and, this time, when he nipped, she sucked him deep, moaned around him, and pressed her thumb beneath the base of his shaft in that sensitive spot.
He quivered and inhaled, his body going washboard hard under her for a split second. His fingers slid into her pussy, his thumb in her ass. Her elusive orgasm reared up, threatening to tumble her off the cliff, and she trembled at the edge of blissful pleasure laced with just a touch of… She trembled. Why would vanilla sex make her heart ache just a little?
He removed his hands and mouth, but her orgasm had stopped, anyway. “You can’t come yet,” he warned from between her thighs through the stupid nightgown. “Don’t come until I command it.”
No man had ever made her feel this horny. Not coming was never an issue before today. But she was a vindictive wife. If she couldn’t come, then she’d m
ake him lose control. Her hands shaking, she drew him in, sucking just the tip, her tongue exploring the ridge along the head. She added a hand to the base of his shaft and stroked in time to each lap. His hands clenched her hips, and he shook a little.
Oh, he was close. This time, she sucked him deep, down to her fist, and pressed that spot again. He bucked into her mouth, his cock sliding in, and she let her hand slide away to take him to the back of her throat.
“You have to stop,” he managed on a strangled breath. “I haven’t had sex in over a month. I can’t take it.”
Over a month? So unlike Jake. Maybe making him suffer was better than making him come. She sucked the length as she pulled away, letting him pop out at the end. She looked down between her thighs again—he still held the nightgown so he could watch her. Oh, he was suffering. The look he gave her was one of delicious torture.
“Did I do okay, Husband?” She ran a finger along the length of his cock, from shaft to tip, and he jumped.
“Your mouth should be illegal,” he said with awe and slapped her ass. “Come here, so I can kiss you.”
Tia climbed off and turned obediently but couldn’t resist kissing the tip of his cock one last time. How odd that she hadn’t ever wanted to suck a man like this, but Jake made her want to pleasure him until he came.
He grabbed her gently by the hair and pulled, and she went. He shoved her shoulders to the bed and rolled over her, his mouth finding hers in a hot, wet kiss that tasted of her musk. He pressed her downward, his hips in contact with hers, his cock nudging where his fingers and mouth had just played. And then she realized what he was about to do and closed her eyes.
“Oh, no, open them. You need to look into my eyes, wife.”
She obeyed and was met with turbulent blue, filled with lust. He gave a small thrust, the head of his cock sliding between her pussy lips and into her core. He had never felt bigger inside her, thicker. He was silken heat, his shaft warm, hard, soft in all the right ways.
He slid into her pussy slowly, inch by inch, opening her in a way he’d never taken her before. Usually, it was fast, hard, urgent. This slowness gave her the shivers, her skin tingling with shocks of electricity that sparked deeper shocks in her core, into an area that felt strangely like her heart. That first slow stroke beckoned to her orgasm, called it to come out and play.
Jake gave a small shudder, his gaze still intent but filled with something foreign, new. He closed his eyes and lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her slowly as he began to rock, his thrusts gentle, deep, sensual. His pubic bone ground into her clit, giving her delicious friction that stroked at her growing orgasm. Who knew plain old missionary position could be so wonderful? That it could indeed hurt emotionally, just a little, appeasing the side of her that liked pain? She sure as hell didn’t.
He increased the tempo of his thrusts, using his palms for leverage, his biceps straining under the pressure. Tia drew in a deep breath, needing air, and wrapped a sweat-dampened leg around his waist, trying to gain position to hold him deeper. He kissed her harder, wetter, hotter and held her leg in place, his hand on her ass, his arm against her thigh.
“Come for me, wife. I know you’re close.”
She was close, the upward spiral swirling faster, the pleasure sweeter, hotter, the ache in her heart so divine. She clenched her pussy walls in time with his thrusts so her channel sucked him on the out part, welcomed him on the upstroke. Panting, she kept up with his tempo, wanting him harder, deeper, faster, worried she wouldn’t come, the same as every other time.
And just when she thought it wouldn’t happen, he breathed in her ear, “Come, wife. Now.”
She shattered, coming apart with the deepest pleasure as he stroked hard into her pussy. Shocks so strong ripped through her core and raced to her toes, curling them. She cried out against his neck, and another shock took her higher. She felt as if she couldn’t hold him deep enough, hard enough. The spasms rocked her core, tingled her skin, and if someone had told her angels had sung, she would have believed them.
Jake shuddered, his mouth hard against her neck, and then he groaned and pumped faster, his cum jetting in a hot rush, flooding her pussy. A strange sensation, one that made her feel claimed. His.
She’d never been claimed before, not like this. Just claimed like chattel that would be cast aside one day. A strange feeling began to swirl in her chest, as if he’d taken out the role of bondage tape in her bag and placed a single piece on her heart. She held him, wrapping both legs around his waist, hugging him closer, harder than she’d ever hugged anyone.
He’d done it. She’d come. Smugness embraced Jake, and he didn’t want to roll off and leave the comfort of Tia’s arms, her pussy just as tightly wrapped around him as her legs. And with a jolt, he realized he didn’t have to roll off—there was no condom. He relaxed even more and basked in being one with her. Everything felt so much better without latex. She’d never been tighter, wetter, hotter. So perfect.
Another jolt went through him as he realized this was what married sex was about. This was what Chase got every night of the week if Kate was speaking to him. Hell, she might even put out not speaking. He would if it were him. This was too good to pass up.
He kissed Tia’s neck, nuzzling, and pulled back enough to tug at the nightgown they’d never gotten around to removing. She leaned, lifted, and then she was naked in his arms. So fucking good. So hot. His.
He angled downward to suck a neglected nipple, rolling the peak in his mouth with his tongue, enjoying the slight tang of salt on her skin. He had expected his cock to eventually give out, too pooped to party, but it lengthened, grew, and was again a force to be reckoned with.
“I want you again,” he whispered as he directed his attention to the other nipple. “Married sex is awesome. Will you have me?”
“Do I have a choice?”
He inhaled sharply and raised his head. “You always have a choice, Tia. I would never force you.”
“My husband is testy,” she said, a serene smile on her lips. “I’ll always agree with your wishes.”
But something had changed. He felt it with his sixth sense, the one that had kept him alive all these years out in the field. “Your husband thinks you’re unhappy with your choices.”
“You are my only choice. It was a weak joke, Jake. Nothing more.”
“Green?” he asked, giving her the chance to safeword out. They often used colors—red for stop, green was go, yellow was slow down or wrong path. Something wasn’t right. He stared down at her, but her face was serene. Too calm, in fact. He had the same feeling he had before, when she had faked an orgasm. A suspicion that she wasn’t as happy as she pretended to be. But he didn’t know her that well. He could be wrong.
“Green.” And as if to prove it, she arched against him, sliding his shaft deeper. “Very green.”
Hell, if she was very green, his cock wanted to run with that thought.
“You deserve to be punished for that.” And the thought of married disciplinary sex made his cock go from hard to raging, wanting to spill over again, deep inside her pussy. He stared down into beautiful brown eyes, the shape exotic, so sexy. He gave a thrust, delighted in how her slickness made him glide that much easier. “How shall I punish you?”
She frowned, but passion glazed over her face as she realized what he was offering. Her fingernails bit into his ass as she urged him faster. “I did what you wanted. You wanted a wedding. I wanted Vegas. You should be happy with that.”
He kissed her quick and wet, and his hips pistoned faster. “Yeah, but I saw you look at my best man. You’ve fucked him, haven’t you? You’re mine, now. Those wild ways will have to stop.”
“I never!”
She turned her head, and he grabbed her chin and held her firmly, so she had to face his accusation. God, she was hot, caught up in their roles, looking every inch the cheating wife. “You did. I saw how he looked at you. Like you were a treat he’d sampled before and wanted again. You fucked him. H
ard. Fast. Didn’t you?”
A look crossed her eyes, her face, one he didn’t know, and she whispered, “Yes, I fucked him. Ages ago.”
A shock of jealousy raced through him as he realized role-play had just gone confessional. He drew in a sharp breath and stilled his hips. His best man would always be Chase, and if she fucked his best man… “When? How?”
“The club. Right after his divorce. It was…bad.” She swallowed and bucked against him, trying to get him to thrust again. “I’m sorry, Husband. Please fuck me.”
The image of Chase’s long form between her thighs, his skin lighter, hers a shade creamier, both of them dark and dangerous, sparked the jealousy higher. But it also ignited lust. He resumed thrusting, pounding, at the images that danced in his head.
“What did you play?” He took both of her hands in one fist and held them over her head, bearing down, holding her captive.
She breathed harder. “Married/mistress. It wasn’t that good. Not like with you.”
Alarms went off in his head, and he stilled between her thighs again. No one walked from Chase saying it wasn’t good. No woman. Hell, he liked threesomes because he was with Chase. The man was sexy as hell, and Jake didn’t even go bi. “Liar.”
“I’m not lying. We didn’t play like you and I play. He was intense, and I pushed him to places I wanted him to go. Harder into the S/m stuff. Because I thought I deserved that. Places I’ll never go again.”
Jake couldn’t see Chase going there, but Kate had said once he’d been in a dark, sexual place. “Will you fuck him again?”
“Only if you command it, Husband. Please,” she said on a sob.
He didn’t want her to cry, not because he was getting jealous, overstepping the boundaries. “Red, yellow, green?”
“Green. Fuck me.” Her nails bit into his ass, and she arched again in invitation.