“Fuck. You like it when I tell you what to do, don’t you?” he asks as he helps me, slowly working his way into my throat, setting a pace that lets me get used to his size. “Like when I said I’d bend you over my knee and spank your ass? Is that what you want?”
I nod around his cock, eagerly bobbing my head as he watches me. He brushes a gentle hand over my brow. “I’ll give it to you, Winnie. Anything you ask for, I’ll give it to you.”
I know he means it. When I can nearly reach his base without gagging, he grins down at me. Looking like the king he is. “Hold on, baby. I’m going to fuck your face now, okay?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
WYATT
Whitney’s eyes stay glued to mine when the hand wrapped around her hair moves to rest on the side of her head. The second one follows suit. Whitney sucks in a long breath through her nose, preparing herself. I did exactly what I told her I would. I fucked her face and relished in every sexy moan I drawled from her. My thrusts were punishing, but she matched each and every stroke with the bob of her head. She was desperate for it, just as desperate as I was.
My girl likes to be talked through it, so I did just that.
“So good.”
“You take it so well, honey.”
“You want it harder?”
“I bet you’re fucking soaked right now.”
My foul mouth worked her to the point of exhaustion. I buck against her mouth, letting my head tip back. Release crawled up my spine, begging to be cut loose. She’s hot, sofuckinghot. Her mouth, her body, that fucking lingerie. God, even that dress she wore today. I can’t get enough.
“You remind me of a little dog.” I hum, “You know that? Always barking.” I click my teeth, “You’re not so smart with a cock stuffed down your throat though, are you?”
Her face reddens, but she hums, the vibrations wrapping around me in a sweet caress. Her hollow and tear-stained cheeks, the sight of her grinding against the ground, the sloppy, wet sounds of her mouth wrapped around me, sends me straight over the edge. She swallows every last drop. I grip her jaw, thumbing her bottom lip. When I feel a trace of cum, I swipe it up and plunge it into her mouth. She greedily laps it up, and I groan, “Hottest blow job of my life.”
When she pulls back fully, sitting on her thighs, I reach down, scooping her up. “Really?” she asks, tilting her head. “I thought it was rather quick-” She shrieks when I throw her on the bed, lightly bouncing back up at the impact. My cock has been out of her mouth for two seconds, and she’s already running it.
“Shut up, Whitney.” My knees hit the mattress, hands shooting out, yanking so hard on her corset that the hooks pop and it flies open. “Hey!” Her gasps flood my ears, making her tits bounce. It’s quickly quieted when my hands shoot up to grab them, rolling her pink nipples between my fingers.
“We’ll get you a new one.” I shrug, running my hands down from her breasts, over her curves, and wrapping around her ankles. I yank, sliding her towards the end of the bed. I flip her, angling her body so that she’s on all fours. My eyes flare when she immediately arches. “Maybe in red…”
“Asshole,” she mutters back, stuffing her face in the pillow at the top of my bed. I still, words falling off when I catch sight of the ink trailing down her spine. “That’s new,” I mutter, running my pointer finger down the length of it. She shivers at my touch. It’s an intricate weave of flowers, and the dark ink etched against her tan skin was hotter than it should be. How did I not notice this before?
“Nice observation,” her smart-ass snips back. I land a quick slap to her cheek, incapable of keeping my hands to myself. I’mstill dazed at the appearance of a new tattoo as I knead over the spot, soothing the already growing handprint. The sight of Whitney spread out on my bed and begging to be fucked already has my dick hardening again.
She isn’t just Whitney anymore, either. She’s mywife.Even if it’s just temporary, she’smine. I’ll take advantage of the label while I can.
I let my hands explore. She wiggles–ever the impatient woman. I finally give in, but when my knee comes up to spread her legs, her ass drops, and she starts shamelessly grinding herself against my leg. I still, hissing as the wetness from her cunt pools onto my thigh. “Shit.” I mutter, glancing down at the sight of her naked form rutting against my bare skin. “Are you gonna cum on my thigh, Whitney?”
She hums. I place my hand between her shoulder blades, pushing her farther into the mattress so that she’s arching higher, giving her room to ride higher and drop lower. The more she does it, the wetter my skin gets, and her pace quickens. It turns feverish, desperate even. The grip she has on my sheets tightens, and her body tenses with pleasure. She’s close. I lean forward, spreading her ass apart and drop a line of spit onto hot skin, watching as it slowly drips down from her ass and to her slit. She cries out when the hot substance runs over her, slickening her ride further. It’s not long before her movements turn sloppy, and she’s exploding all over my leg. Fuck, the sight is erotic. I’ve never been one to take pictures in the bedroom, but my hands twitches with the idea of having something to remember this moment by.
My cock twitches painfully, as if reminding me it’s at attention and tired of waiting. I wanted to savor this, though. Savor everything about Whitney while she’ll let me. When she asked me to kiss her, for a second, I thought she was fuckingwith me. But when her face flushed and she tried to run from my room, I realized she wasn’t.
That moment told me Whitney wants me as bad as I want her, and I’m not letting that go anytime soon. “Are you tired, baby?” I ask, leaning down to kiss her lower back. “Have you had too much?” My breath brushes over her skin. “Or do you think you can handle a little more?”
“More. Please,” she whines, voice low and barely audible.
“You beggin’, Winnie?” My voice is as breathless as hers, and I realize I need to know. Need tohearit.
She inhales, hesitating, like she doesn’t want to admit it out loud. But when I push my hips, and my cock slides against her wet heat in a slow, languid swipe, she’s crying out, “Yes, Wyatt! Please.”
“Well,” I hum in approval, grabbing the sides of her hips for purchase. “Since you asked so nicely.” I shove into her, balls deep in one swoop. Her cry is electric, my name on her lips a chant and prayer. I’m gentler when I pull out and push back in, giving her time to adjust. She grips me so tightly it aches. Soon we’re meeting each other stroke for stroke. We fit so perfectly together, it’s as if our bodies were made for this. As if I was made to care for her in more ways than one.
I need Whitney–body, soul, and mind, but she needs me too. I lean forward, pressing into her back. When my hand comes to wrap around her delicate neck, I tug so that we’re upright. The position is deeper, and Whitney’s thighs begin to shake. Her moans turn into gasps, and she clenches around me. I bite her shoulder, forcing myself to focus on her and not finishing before I’m ready. “It’s too much!” she cries.
I run one hand up her thigh, pressing my thumb into her clit. The other goes to play with her nipples, pinching and squeezing. “What did I say earlier? You can take it for me, won’t you baby?”
