Page 41 of King of Ashes
“Anything for you,” I groan, the pleasure coursing from my marrow straight into my bloodstream.
“I want to come. I need to come. More. Please, baby.”
Fuck me. I forgot how well she begs in the throes of pleasure, making me feel like the most powerful man with endless pleasure at the tip of my fingers.
Fine, she wants to play with fire, so be it. I am the fucking match, and her pussy is the gasoline, our joining a passionate dance in the flames.
I keep pushing in, staying buried for a few moments, then pull out as she undulates around me in a maddening rhythm. Digging my fingers into her flesh, I grit out, fighting a losing battle. “Stop if you don’t want me to fill up that pretty pussy with cum.”
She is too far gone, moving with me in sensual carnality––lost in pleasure.
A few more thrusts later, she comes on my cock, my name rolling out her mouth in a prayer of surrender. Squeezing me to death, I am on the verge of losing control.
“I don’t care. Fill me up,” she whispers like a sin she can’t regret.
Fisting a hand in her hair, I bite her neck, erupting inside her on a long groan. She keeps on coming, shaking in my arms like my cum is her undoing.
“Good girl, such a good girl for me,” I whisper in her ear, feeding her greedy pussy every drop of cum. “Yeah, just like that, baby, take my cum deep inside you.”
Neither of us speaks of what a pretty mess I made in her pussy as we catch our breaths.
I have no control with her.
But damn, neither does she.
10
ZARA
If I thought his presence made me lose my mind, I had no idea what being with him would do to me. Insanity. That’s what it is.
A tremor passes through me just remembering the intensity of last night. From the slow pull of desire to him washing me afterward with utter gentleness, it felt like a fever dream.
The reminder alone heats my skin. Insatiable—that’s what I am for this man. Taking it slow is a challenge I am destined to lose, especially since once we were in bed, my last coherent thought was wanting more of him. And he aims to please, this conundrum of a husband of mine.
I open my eyes to find him wrapped around me, watching me with so much warmth it melts my insides. Then his eyes clear and his jaw sets into a harsh line, hardness slipping back onto his face. Surely, he expects me to bolt. But I just had the best sleep in ages, and I feel invigorated.
I enjoy waking up next to him. I enjoy even more the comfort he gives me, the kind I didn’t think I would need, but he has proven me wrong from the beginning.
Sunlight streams through the window, announcing another warm summer day. I stretch lazily, and the sheet slips lower. He groans low in his throat, the sound pulling a smile from my mouth.
“Morning,” I chirp, and his features ease as he lowers his face to kiss me.
He pulls me closer for one lingering moment before easing away, and I feel the instant loss.
I don’t recognize myself anymore, the woman he has made his.
“Morning, mi sol. Did you sleep well?” A smirk stretches the corners of his mouth. In the morning light, he appears even more handsome, a strand of hair falling over his brow.
“Mm-hmm,” I say, sounding infatuated as I brush the strand back and caress the side of his head, exploring my husband leisurely. His woodsy scent and warm body wrap around me in a cocoon I don’t want to leave.
My belly growls, interrupting the intimate moment. Apparently, he can’t fulfill every need.
“Let’s get my woman fed.”
His blatant possessiveness is rather hot. Or maybe he has some magic powers. Who knows? I live in my blissful bubble. My marriage has brought me so much more than I could have envisioned. I am less focused on the past, less agonized over the gaps, and more interested in living in the present. With him.
I slip out of bed and enter his walk-in closet, choosing one of his shirts. Rolling the sleeves up to my forearms, I turn to find him leaning against the doorframe. He gives me an approving look, his eyes shining and deep in thought. “I love you in my clothes.”
