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“Or what? Will you punish me if I am disobedient?” I taunted.
His lips quivered as he attempted to hide a grin at the thought of disciplining me. “Perhaps I shall.” I waggled my brows and pouted. “Actually, I am tempted to take you right this second, to leave you sore and aching for the flight.”
I bit my lower lip and batted my lashes, “Well, it is tradition to make love the entire honeymoon.” I looked off in the distance, making my voice as airy as possible, like I was a dumb blonde, “When does the honeymoon officially start, anyway?”
“I am the King! I decree it begins now, and I want to be inside my bride!” he bellowed as he planked up and over me.
My chest heaved as he pushed his groin against mine and lowered his lips to kiss me. “Oh Omar, you are amazing,” I breathed.
“I will take my female now, my way, I will dominate you properly, Anna.”
“Can you? Your knee?”
He grunted, “I am healed! You have removed my pain, and I will not wait.”
I giggled and struggled to spread my legs because of the tight skirt. I grumbled, “Get this dress off me!”
He chuckled, “I’ve always loved your enthusiasm, my bride.” Omar then proceeded to help me strip down to just the garter and corset and when he saw how tight it actually was, he grimaced. “How can you stand this? How can you breathe?”
My tone was all too ironic, “I can’t. Not one little bit. That’s why I couldn’t eat anything.”
He kissed the tops of each breast and then cupped them from the sides to make them jiggle and ripple, “I do not wish you to be uncomfortable, but I must say your breasts are lovelier than any I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He hovered over me and spent forever getting lost in my lovely breasts, but then he turned me and took his time undoing the laces.
Once I was finally free from the torture device, I sighed and rubbed at my sternum and under my breasts. Then I noticed he was into the show, so I made more of it until I was finally rubbing my own nipples and gripping at the end of each tit—making sounds of delight both in how it felt and the reaction I was seeing in my husband’s body.
I continued the display for him as he stood and stripped naked. Even before he’d pulled the robes all the way off his body, I could see where his long hard shaft was tenting it in the front. My body prepared itself immediately for his entry, and I whispered to him, “My body is ready for you, husband.”
He stood there, naked and jutting, and my mouth watered. He made a motion with his eyes, and I spread my legs farther apart and breathily said, “I’m so wet for you, Omar.”
He gritted his teeth and his gaze turned ravenous, “I love it when those words leave your mouth. I also wish to ruin your exterior, to mess you up and…”
“You want to defile me, don’t you?” I chided.
“I do, I wish to wreck you and leave you so useless you must be carried.” Then he grabbed both my ankles and jerked me to the edge of the bed and gutturally said, “Female! Brace yourself. I’m taking what is mine.”
I did as he commanded and spread my legs even farther apart. He stalked up between my thighs and pressed them apart with both hands. Then he cupped my bottom and lifted me up so that he could see all of my pinkest flesh. His cheek twitched, and he gritted his teeth. His eyes traveled up my body until they locked on mine, and he mouthed one word: MINE.
I threw my head back and groaned as his hand swept up along my entrance. He made that sound, and I felt it as my center puddled for my husband’s entrance. He didn’t waste any time and held me tightly at the edge of the tall bed, sliding his granite-hard shaft all the way to his balls in his first thrust. We both gasped from the abruptness and from the tight fit. My body was yet to melt and reshape itself to his size and as we both caught our breath, he took one long stroke in and out of me.
He said a string of words in Arabic, and all I understood was something about Allah and heaven. And then he took me as if it had been years and not just a day. His hands dug into my butt, and he thrust and pounded his way up into the very center of me. I grew slicker and hotter, and within minutes I was whining and gripping at his arms.
I whimpered and cried out, “Omar, oh God, Omar—please—please let me—tell me…”
“You wait, Anna, you hold it.” He grunted as the sounds of our colliding bodies echoed in the large room.
Then he slowed and the cauldron inside my belly slackened to a simmer. I took a breath and opened my eyes. He was so hard that he could slide almost to his crown and then bodily pull me back over his length. Over and over, in painful, slow succession he stroked in and out of my soaked sheath. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he snaked one hand up to my neck and pulled my body up to meet his, and he kissed
me with the white hot passion of ten men.
“Hold on,” he commanded, and I obeyed as he resumed holding me from my butt, still buried in my core. His heart thudded against the walls of my insides, and when I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my breasts to his chest, I felt his pulse everywhere—in me, around me, against me. I lost track of my own heartbeat and could only feel his.
He turned and sat on the bed, and I undulated over him, rolling my hips and my pelvis so that I could slide myself over his shaft, again and again. My wetness soaking out and down over his groin. His hands found my upper back, and he bucked his hips, shoving his need even farther up into my body. I cried out when I began a slow roll that made my clit rub against the hairs of his groin, and then I whined and pleaded with him again. Begging for release.
He bit my neck and stood, but I felt him shake and within the work of a moment, he’d turned us and pushed me back up onto the bed, taking me farther up towards the headboard—scooting my body with each thrusting prod. He was on his knees, and he did as he’d promised. His large body pressing over mine and his right hand holding both of my wrists in a tight grip above my head. He took up a furious humping with his hips, and soon he was madly pumping himself as deeply into me as he could.
His enormous length pillaged my insides, shoving away any interruptions it encountered, and he took me with an almost violent need. “Anna, release for me!” he commanded, and I wailed as I gave up the thin veil of control I’d been clinging to. When he began saying, “Mine!” over and over, I let it go with the same intensity he’d been transmitting into me.
I keened and struggled under his weight and his tight grip, but he only pinned me harder and held my wrists harder and entered me even harder. My body closed around his, squeezing his shaft and milking him as he released deeply inside me. He made an anguished sound when he came and his entire form shook. His seed shot up into me, and it only brought me to another mind numbing series of multiple orgasms.
