“Iama good wife.”
“There you go.” He looks at me. The good humor twinkling in his bright blue eyes is a relief.He isn’t upset,and that makes it impossible to say no. “Just imagine how good it’s going to feel. Doesn’t your pussy ache a little from last night?”
“A little, maybe.”
“Right. You’re wounded, sort of. And you know animals lick their wounds to feel better.”
I chortle, even as his hand is doing a great job of stoking my need. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I swear it on the Bible.”
I gaze into his eyes. And to be honest, I’m a tad curious, too. But giving in feels like…a surrender of something far more than I’d like to give up, even though I can’t put my finger on it. I sniff daintily. “Well…just this once.”
“Yes. Just this once, unless you want to do it again.”
“Like I told you before—if it sucks, there’s no second time.” The moment the words leave my lips, I flush.
“Oh, sucking is definitely going to happen,” he says with a dark laugh.
I grip the headboard and position myself, a knee on either side of his stunning face. My cheeks flame at how lewd I must look—my legs spread and my clit and pussy visible to his unblinking, fiery gaze. All the moisture in my mouth dries, and I lick my lips. Then, carefully and slowly so I don’t crush him, I lower myself.
“Good girl,” he says with satisfaction. “Now, just a little more.”
“But—”
“Come on, baby. You want to be a queen, right? My face is your throne.”
He runs his hands over my ass, cupping it and leading me lower, encouraging me. His hot breaths fan against my inner thighs, and my muscles quiver.
“Ah yes,” he groans—and strokes my wet flesh with his tongue.
I throw my head back as a shocking jolt of pleasure shoots through me. He continues to lick leisurely, like he’s enjoying an ice cream cone. My thighs tremble as I resist the urge to lower my hips.Can’t—kill—my husband—
His tongue flicks a couple of times over my clit. My back arches and my knees almost buckle.Oh my God.I didn’t know they could do that when they’re already supported on the mattress. He traces the curve of my ass with his hand, sending delicious shivers up and down, then pushes a finger into my pussy. But only slightly, to tease.
Devil man.
If it weren’t for the scar, I’d turn around and tease him back. Pull his cock into my mouth and return the torment. He thrusts deeper into me, but retreats before I can really enjoy the sweet invasion. I wish I could draw in enough air to tell him to stop teasing, but it’s impossible as I hang on to the board and try to not grind myself into his face like I want to—need to.
I vaguely sense him moving his arm down his body. His breathing shifts to something a bit tense. Is he touching himself?
The picture of him gripping his cock and thrusting into his hand while eating me out boils my blood until I’m hot all over. Even mytoestingle.
His free hand grips my pelvis, guiding me to ride his face. My inhibition whimpers surrender at his silent encouragement, and I rock against him. He doesn’t hold back anymore, either. He devours me, his lips and tongue working over my hypersensitive flesh, his other arm moving harder and faster.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” I pant as I crest higher and higher, my body taut with mounting pleasure. When the orgasm hits, I scream, my knuckles white on the headboard. Somewhere faraway, hot fluid hits my lower back and hair, and I struggle to breathe.
My brain is barely functioning. But the part of me that wanted to go crazy over his face crows,See—he’s not dead,while another triumphant voice that sounds suspiciously like Ares says,You definitely can’t walk back to “your room.”
Ares’s hands are busy running the sheet over my back, wiping up the cum from his cock. I didn’t realize it could shoot so far. He gently helps me lie down and recover.
“What do you say?” His question breaks my post-orgasm haze.
“Thank you?” I whimper, wishing I could rest for a while. Human bodies aren’t designed to be tormented this much within a twenty-four-hour period.
“You’re welcome. But no. Do you agree that you can’t walk back to your room?”
I blink. Did he actually say that? I didn’t imagine it? “Yes,” I say, since I can’t prove him wrong, and he seems very determined to get an honest answer from me. My legs feel like jelly.
