Home > The Bad Boy's Bride(13)

The Bad Boy's Bride(13)
Author: Penny Wylder

And then I can’t see that glorious sight anymore because his mouth is sealed against my skin, blazing a trail south with earnest attention. Just as he promised…

Something in the tone of his voice hypnotized me. His confidence ignited a fire in my body. Using his tongue, Clayton teases one nipple. It’s already hard, and goosebumps spread out from his touch. “I love these,” he murmurs. “The exact same shade as your lips.”

“Can’t say I’ve noticed,” I gasp out as he seals his mouth over it and sucks my breast halfway into his mouth. Oh, damn. I’m arching up into him and he switches to my other breast. Agonizingly slowly, he circles the tip of his tongue around my nipple, again and again until I’m hissing, it’s so sensitive. He moves back and forth between my breasts until I’m writhing underneath him. I want faster and harder. More. But he’s already determined the pace we’re moving at, and I know that he won’t budge.

Clayton drags his tongue down my ribs, and I can’t help but giggle. It tickles me. “Shh…” he reprimands me, and then comes up to press his mouth against mine, silencing me. His kiss is hot and urgent. Despite his promise to go slow, I know he’s holding back. As our tongues tangle, he plays with my nipples again, and although I’ve never come just from that before, I feel my pussy getting wetter and an orgasm creeping into sight. My hips are moving on their own, trying to find friction against his rough denim. His hand slides down my tummy, so, so slowly, until he’s hovering just above my pussy. I arch up, just a bit, and make contact with his hand. He slides a finger up and down my seam, not separating my lips, but I’m so wet I know he feels it. He drags his fingers over me, with just a bit of pressure, and I want more.

He smiles. “You smell amazing, do you know that? Like cinnamon and citrus. Do you taste like it too?”

A blush rolls across my entire body, and he lowers his mouth to mine for another kiss.

Gentle, teasing brushes of his tongue against mine send pleasure zinging along my nerves. His hand leaves my pussy and he breaks away from our kiss. He’s smirking when he brings his fingers to his lips and tastes. Clayton groans. “You taste amazing.”

“I don’t know about that.”

He lifts his head and raises an eyebrow. “You’ve tasted yourself?”

“No, I just know that most men don’t…appreciate that.”

“I’m not most men,” he says, his voice rough. And then he pops his finger in my mouth and I taste myself for the first time. And it doesn’t taste like cinnamon, but it’s also perfectly fine, and any inhibition I may have ever had about a man going down on me is gone. I start sucking on his finger, and I can tell by how hard his cock is against my leg, and the way he starts grinding into me, that his mind is on me sucking other things right now.

“Fuuuck,” he groans before claiming my mouth with another kiss, and then he slinks down my body. He sinks lower, licking his way down my body until he’s down by my thighs and I can feel his breath on my pussy. He grins when I lift my hips toward his mouth, wordlessly asking for what I want.

Clayton’s eyes don’t leave mine as he places his hands high on my thighs and slowly pushes them wide. They still ache, and I feel the pain even deeper when he pushes against them. But I’m even wetter than before, and his gaze is daring me to tell him that I’m not enjoying it.

And then he devours me.

So much for slow. Clayton feasts on me like I’m a five-course meal. Deeper and deeper, licking the wetness from my thighs and dipping his tongue inside my pussy before sealing his mouth over my clit and sucking deep. Stroking and circling and focusing all of his energy of that tiny bundle of nerves.

I can’t hold myself back. My hands fly to his head, holding him in place. My only need, my only desire right now it to keep his head right fucking there. I grab at his hair and hold on. I don’t care if I hurt him. I don’t think he cares, either, because he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down. His tongue flicks at my clit again and again, in the perfect pattern that will make me come. He drives me up and over the edge, and I cry out as my orgasm breaks. It shakes me to the core, pleasure shimmering and peaking and bursting. When I can open my eyes again, Clayton is naked and standing at the foot of the bed. He’s grinning as he strokes himself, a condom in his hand. In one smooth movement, he dives on to the bed next to me. After a passionate kiss, he grabs me by the hips and lifts me, positioning me so I’m practically sitting on his face. His big hand rubs from my waist up my back, and then he firmly presses down on me, until I’m lying flat on him, getting my first up close look at his very hard cock.

He’s glorious. Long and hard and ever so slightly curved upward. I’m already falling back into pleasure, but he’s given me the chance to give it back. So I dive down on him, taking him completely.

Any other time, I would start a long, slow exploration of his cock. Just the thought of taking my time and making him squirm the same way that he did me sends another burst of wetness from my pussy directly into his mouth, and Clayton groans underneath me.

But I’m distracted by his clever tongue and lips, and the way he seems to know exactly how to tease me, and how different he feels from this angle, that I don’t have time for subtlety.

So I suck my husband’s cock.

Hard.

I’m mindless with the pleasure of his mouth and the feeling of him sliding deeper as he thrusts up into my mouth. I’m losing myself to that same perfect chemistry that took over earlier. It’s inevitable.

One of Clayton’s hands locks on my hip, holding me securely in place as he ravages my sensitive clit. I’m so close, only stopped from grinding on his tongue and coming by his firm grip.

His other hand snakes up my back, until his fingers are tangled in my hair. He presses on the back of my head, guiding me as I suck his cock. The way he’s tugging at my roots tells me he likes what I’m doing, so I take more of him. Clayton fucks my mouth faster, but never stopping the assault on my pussy, and I start to come again.

The second orgasm crushes me like a tidal wave, bright and shining. Overwhelming. I let myself go, surrendering to the sensation and to him. He thrusts up into my mouth again and again as I come, but he doesn’t come. Not yet.

He rolls himself out from underneath me to reach over to the condom beside the bed. Just as I’m catching my breath, his hands are on me again, turning me around and lifting me on top of him. I watch him roll on the condom, his erection sticking straight up in the air. I’ve never wanted a cock inside me so badly. With a knee on each side of him, I lower myself down onto him, enjoying the sting of him stretching me, watching his cock disappear inside me. I lower myself slowly, until he’s entirely filled me. I don’t care about the soreness and the fact that every muscle in my body still aches with every movement. It’s so worth it.

His hands are on my hips, locking us together, pulling me toward him, using my own body to fuck up into me. The possessiveness in his eyes makes me shiver, and not with fear. It’s the deep kind of ownership that comes with love and acceptance and wanting. He’s claiming me the same way he did this afternoon, but somehow it feels deeper than that.

He reaches up and grabs my shoulder, pushing me harder onto him. I know he’s getting close now because his shoulders and head are raised off the bed; an impossible position for a man who’s not as fit as Clayton. I ride him like that, admiring the chorded muscles tensing in his arms. I lean forward, trying to rub my clit against him, but I’m too impatient, and sneak a hand between us, rubbing myself. When he spots me playing with my clit, something takes over in him, and his grunts grow louder and his thrusts stronger. I’m nothing but a sparkling star, bathing in perfect ecstasy as he fucks his way to his own climax. He shouts his climax, cock jerking deep inside me, and my finger speeds up until I’m coming too, and collapse onto his body.

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