Page 43 of Urgent Vows
"I like that." She groans. "How it feels inside. It hurts a little, but it's like a jolt of pleasure every time too."
My innocent wife enjoys a little pain with her pleasure.
She's so fucking perfect for me. I kiss her and Catalina's tongue tangles with mine, the passion between us building. Is my virgin wife going to cum her first time being penetrated by my cock?
Bit by bit, I elongate my thrusts until I am pulling almost all the way out and slamming back in with each one.
"Yes, Severu, yes!" Catalina cries.
And then I feel it, her body tightens around me, and she screams trying to surge up to meet my hips. I don't allow it. And it's not just to protect her ribs. That dark beast inside me needs to control her pleasure and I let him.
I'm hammering into her pressing my thumb into her clit on each downward thrust, my hand holding her pelvis in place.
She begs, "More…no…stop…please…oh god…don't stop."
I don't make her tell me which she wants, for me to stop, or keep going, because there is only one choice. I keep fucking her until her mouth opens to scream, but the pleasure is so intense no sound comes out.
I let my own climax take me, emptying my seed deep inside her while shouting the one word playing over and over again inside my head. "Mine!"
Chapter 15
CATALINA
I lay under Severu, so drunk on pleasure, my head is spinning. It hurt. Oh, goodness, did it hurt, but then it felt good. Better than good. It felt intimate and real andblissful.
I don't know how many times I came, but my body is a wet noodle.
My husband stays inside me for long minutes after his own shouted climax nearly pops my eardrums. He's breathing hard and shifting his hips so residual waves of pleasure roll through me, and him I assume.
"That was amazing," I say when I can finally make words.
"You are very responsive."
"My clitoris is definitely not defective."
"None of you is defective, Catalina."
Even if he only means the sex stuff, his words warm the cold places in my heart that crave the approval that has been in such short supply in my life.
My hands reflexively grab for my husband as he lifts his big body away from me, but I cannot hold him.
He climbs off of me and the bed.
"Where are you going?" I want him to hold me, but I would be mortified to say so.
"I need a shower."
I stuff down my disappointment, not wanting to look like a clinging bride. After all, it's not as if this is a love match. I'm not even the one he chose to marry. No matter how earth-shattering the sex, I can't let myself start thinking there are any tender emotions between us.
At least not on his side. Whatever I'm feeling can just stay buried.
But my heart hurts as I hear the water come on in the shower. Why didn't he ask me to join him? Is it because of my injuries, or is he just…done with me for the night?
He comes out twenty minutes later, dressed in one of his bespoke suits and putting on his watch. Orawatch rather because the one he wore to the wedding is still sitting on the dresser.
"I ran you a bath. I'll help you get into it and then I'll instruct Emilia to come up in a half an hour to help you get out, dried off and ready for bed."
Stunned, I ask. "Where are you going?"
