“These are mine,” he said, lifting his head to hover over the neglected breast. “You know that, don’t you? These gorgeous tits only belong to me.”
“Yes, Edward.” He’d told me that specifically as he’d fucked me over his desk, months ago. He’d been in a rage then, but the words were the same. There was something strangely thrilling that his possessiveness remained at his core, no matter what mood he was in.
His fingers moved down to the space between my legs. “And this too. This cunt is mine.”
I cried out as he plunged two fingers inside me, demonstrating how much “mine” it was. The second orgasm followed soon after, brought on as much from his claiming words as from his ministrations on my body.
When I came down from that one, I came down impatient. I jerked at the zipper of his pants, wanting access to the big secret he was hiding inside.
“Three orgasms before my pants come down, Celia. I’m trying to do right by you, but you’re making it hard. Very hard.” He bucked against my hand, his hardness evident.
It took a minute to remember that I’d been the one who’d specified three orgasms when I’d told him my dream virginity-loss scenario.
“That was greedy on my part. Two is more than fine. I need you inside me.” The last words came out ragged, too true to be spoken without emotion.
“How about this—you make yourself come again while I’m undressing. Shall we see who can finish first?”
I was no more comfortable playing with myself in front of him than I’d been on our wedding night, but the prospect of seeing him naked was enough to let those inhibitions go. I’d never seen him completely naked. He’d never let me get that close to him before.
God, the thought, the relevance of this one thing, stripping in front of me—I’d come again before he was even halfway done.
“Fuck,” he growled when the orgasm ripped through me, my limbs quivering with the ferocity. “You better treat my cock as good as you treat your fingers.” There was a warning in his tone, as though he meant to punish me if I didn’t come as easily when he was inside me as I had when he was watching.
It was so Edward, so the man I was used to, and seeing him appear, even just the glimpse of him made me deliriously happy.
“I’ll treat you better,” I said, sitting up as he approached the bed wearing absolutely nothing, his cock jutting out in front of him with pride.
My pussy clenched at the sight of him. He was chiseled and lean, but not too lean. There was a bulk to him, too. His pecs were man pecs with dark hair scattered across them and down his stomach, which was flat, but not concave. His thighs were long and strong.
And his cock…
I hadn’t had much of a chance to admire it before. I’d known it was big from the shape of the bulge in his pants and the feel of it inside me. I hadn’t known it was also beautiful. Hadn’t known there was such a thing as a beautiful cock until there was his, long and fat with a gorgeous smooth head.
I was speechless.
“Do you want to touch me?” He was already touching me, stroking his knuckles along my jaw.
“Yes, Edward.” It was a moment of him handing over the reins. Letting me behind the wheel for even the briefest of minutes couldn’t be easy for him. I wanted to respect that, so I watched his face as I reached out to grip him, looking for any signs of misgiving.
But then he was in my hand, and I couldn’t think about his face because his cock!
“It’s so big,” I said, mostly to myself. “How the fuck does that fit?”
“You’re really good at the virgin routine,” he said, his words ending on a moan as I palmed his crown.
“Not a routine. This is honesty. Remember?”
He stared at me for half a beat before he was pushing me back down, kneeling on the bed between my thighs. He lined his head up to my entrance. “I wish I really had been the first person inside you.” It was said so low, I wasn’t sure I was supposed to hear it. I definitely wasn’t supposed to respond, because he thrust inside of me, all the way with one stroke, and I couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, could only clutch onto his arms and trust I’d come out of this in one piece.
But if I could have spoken, if I’d been able to say the truth right then, I would have told him he was the first person inside me, truly inside me. In all the ways that mattered.
It was a good thing, then, that I’d been rendered speechless. Giving away that truth would have been a far more precious gift than my virginity had been.
He wasn’t as vicious with his fucking as he’d been in the past, each stroke didn’t tear me apart and blind me with sensation like the previous two times, and for that reason, I knew he was still holding back, that he was giving me what he believed was the ideal lover.
Even restrained, he was magic.
He propped my feet up on his shoulders and lifted my hips to meet him as he pumped into me with vigor. When he was sure I was balanced and wouldn’t drop my ass to the bed without his support, he stretched one hand up to plump my breast. His blue eyes were eclipsed by his large pupils, and they swept over me, studying every inch of my body, as though memorizing it. Revering it.
I’d never been looked at like that before. There had been plenty of men who’d seemed to worship me, but they’d only honored the idea of me, the brainless, beautiful woman who let them stick their dicks in her hole. When Edward looked at me, he saw everything that went with the pert breasts and flawless skin and narrow waist. He saw the things hidden underneath. And I knew he saw those things because he’d specifically gone looking, needling my secrets out of me in his “break-you-down” sessions.
How could he see me like that, all weak and impotent, and still look at me like I was something to be admired? Still fuck me like I was someone to be enjoyed? How could he ruin me so completely and also be the only person to make me fully whole?
My eyes smarted with tears, and I could feel another orgasm coming, but I wasn’t entirely sure that was the source of the weeping. A feeling of desperation gathered inside me like a cyclone as my pussy tightened around him.
“Is this real, Edward?” I needed to know. I needed to know what this was, if it was all an act, if it was everything it seemed to be. If he was everything he seemed to be.
His hands rushed back to my hips, holding them in place as he struggled against my impending climax. “Does it feel real, little bird?”
God, yes. For me, yes. It was the realest I’d felt in my entire life.
Stars shot across my vision, blinding me. My body strained and trembled, and then the devastating flood of euphoria spread through my limbs, leaving me slack and exhausted. My legs fell from his shoulders. Edward lowered me to the bed, never disconnecting from me. He stroked into me long and leisurely.
“What do you want, little bird?” he asked, his lips hovering inches above mine. I’d been thoroughly fucked, and he could do whatever he wanted with my limp body, and still he was seeing this fantasy through. Making sure it was everything I needed him to be.
I could easily curl up in a ball and go to sleep, I was so wasted on him. But I wanted to feel him come, and I wanted it to be real for him when he did. I wanted him to let down his walls the way he’d made me let down mine.