Page 43 of My One Week Husband
She practically cries as she nods. “Yes.”
“Then let’s get you down on your hands and knees. Leave your shoes on.” I tug off her knickers, sliding them down her legs. She steps out of them and kneels on the floor, sapphire heels still on.
“Watch me as I take my clothes off,” I tell her.
She stares like a hungry creature with ravenous eyes as I unbutton my shirt and unbuckle my belt, tossing them carelessly onto the floor behind me. Shoes and socks go next, then trousers, then my boxer briefs. I’m down to nothing.
I take my cock in my hand, shuddering from the pleasure. “Do you know how badly I want to come on your face right now?”
Her eyes float closed for a second, and she shudders. “Tell me how badly.”
I slide a hand over her hair, coiling it around her skull, my dick sliding along her lips. “I want to come in your hair, on your back, on your face, but I want to come inside you even more. When my cock is in you, I’m going to own your body. I’m going to ravage it. I’m going to leave marks all over you,” I say as I bend, reach into my trousers on the floor, and grab a condom.
I get behind her on my knees, sheathing myself, then press a palm between her shoulder blades. “Down to your elbows. Lift your ass. It’s better for me to fuck you ruthlessly.” I savor the view in front of me as Scarlett obeys every command, offering herself, giving me the most fantastic view in the universe, her wet, needy pussy practically begging for my body. “Are you aching for me?”
“I am.”
I slide my hand between her legs where she’s wetter and hotter after her orgasm. She arches and moves with me as I slide my hand up and down, savoring her slickness.
“This is how you need to be fucked. By a man who wants you.”
“I want you too. So much,” she says, like she’s begging.
My eyes eat her up, enjoying the feast of her body as I line up behind her.
She lifts her hips higher, giving herself to me. I rub the head of my cock against her wetness, a sharp, delicious burst of pleasure surging through me.
Lighting me up.
I push farther, and she groans wickedly.
That’s all I can take.
I slide into her in one hard, deep move, filling her to the hilt.
She groans like an animal, tossing her head back.
I still myself for a few fevered seconds, savoring her hot grip, the way it sends shock waves of lust pounding through me. Inhaling sharply, I let breath flood my body as desire washes over me.
I’m going to fuck her hard.
This is what my woman has been missing, and I’m going to give it all to her.
I take her words at face value, holding nothing back. I keep one hand on her shoulder blades, making sure she’s near the floor. As I drive into her, I draw out her moans and groans and wild sounds of ecstasy.
But that’s not enough. She wants to be marked. She wants to feel this for days. I take my hand off her shoulder blades and grip her hips, digging my fingers in, leaving marks. “You want bruise marks?”
“I do. I do,” she says, gasping and writhing as she thrusts her hips back onto my cock, fucking against me as I fuck into her. I reach around to her tits, grasping them, gripping them so damn hard in my hands.
I swear I can feel her pussy grow wetter as I punish her tits, squeezing so hard they’ll be bruised tomorrow.
I let go and return to abusing her ass, smacking her over and over again. Her sounds are the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard as she chases wild pleasure. As she seeks out the kind of bliss she’s evidently never had before. As she learns exactly what it’s like to be taken by a man who’s consumed by her.
As her moans grow louder, the pleasure in me spirals higher, gathering in the base of my spine. When I can tell she’s near the edge, I band an arm tight around her waist, play with her clit, and coax an epic orgasm out of her.
Her sounds are delirious notes of bliss.
Seconds later, my own climax throttles me, blotting out anything, everything, as I come hard, so damn hard inside her.
I want to collapse on her. Fall on top of her. But first, I pull out, remove the condom, and toss it into the bin. Gently, I take off her shoes then lift her up, carry her to the bathroom, and turn on the shower.
“Let me clean you up. Let me look at all the places where you’re going to be marked tomorrow,” I say.
She simply nods, looking drugged out, blissed out, as I wash her tenderly in the shower. She murmurs then smiles. “I’m so hungry.”
