Page 119 of Sins of Innocence

I shake and shiver, my vaginal walls contracting over and over as the climax doesn't abate because my voracious husband won't let it. He tongues and nips my pleasure nub while pistoning his thick fingers in and out of me so hard, he'd be shoving me up the bed if his body wasn't so heavy on mine.

My scream turns to small cries and then whimpers.

"Please, Kieran, it's too much." That bundle of nerves I thought was good for a climax every few weeks with my hand is so sensitive every brush of his tongue makes my body jolt in too-much, not-enough pleasure.

With another hoarse cry, I come again and this time, every muscle that contracted releases and I go boneless. Like really boneless.

I'm a gelatinous mass. A really happy. Really sated. Pleasure-drunk mass.

Relief wars with disappointment when Kieran pulls his fingers from inside me and lifts his mouth away from my pleasure center.

"Bibbidi-Bobbidi-fucking-BOOM." Kieran shifts his big body, sending another aftershock rippling through my pussy. "No magic wand needed."

"Two booms in one night seems pretty magical to me." Am I even still breathing?

"Two? We just got started, baby girl."

If Kieran were a Disney villain, the only thing he’d need to keep the princess enchanted would be the magic wand jutting out from his body.

I may not be a princess but I’m so under this man’s spell.

He doesn't bother wiping his mouth before yanking me up and twisting us so I'm on top of him before he devours my mouth with the same enthusiasm he showed my pussy.

I taste myself on him. Tart. Different. And mixed with his taste, addictive. His hands roam my body while we kiss, my thighs spread wide over him. He lifts my hips like I weigh nothing and maneuvers me so my opening is pressed against the head of his straining dick.

When did he take his boxer shorts off?

Do I care?

I'm still mostly dressed, but I don't care about that either.

It doesn't matter that I just came twice in the most mind shattering climaxes of my life. I want more. I want him.

I wiggle my hips, trying to get his bulbous head inside me, but I'm tight and he's big and I'm going to need his help. Especially with my hands cuffed behind my back.

He thrusts upward, stretching my slick flesh around his dick.

Squirming, I try to take more of him in.

Sweat beaded on his brow, his jaw taut with strain, he shakes his head. "Don't. I'm big and you're too fucking tight to have given birth three times."

Yeah, despite what so many men think, including my dead husband, pussies aren't wrecked by childbirth. I swear with how hard it is for Kieran to get inside me, I'm tighter than the first time I had sex.

Or he's just really big.

Remembering the feel of him in my hand, even through his trousers, I'm going with he's big. Really, really big.

Chapter twenty-four

You're Mine, Baby Girl

WRAITH

Áine is so fucking tight, it's like trying to fit my cock into a well lubricated vice.

She's wet and so damn ready, but her sweet tunnel was a snug fit for my fingers. Swollen from her climaxes, her tender flesh can't decide if it wants to suck my cock in or try to keep me out.

There's only one way this is going to go. And it's not going to be me pulling out.