“Your princess,” she half-purrs.
“No. You top from the bottom. Or try to.”
“I just want to kiss you. Tothankyou.”
I ignore her to free myself from the mass of Egyptian cotton with ease, but I flip up the comforter to reveal her calves and thighs to my gaze.
“Maxim, let me loose!”
“When I tell you not to pile the bed high with throws, you’ll listen in the future, won’t you?”
Victoria pouts but quickly bites that sulky bottom lip as I stroke my fingers over the curves of her calves and along the sleek length of her thighs.
“Look at that pretty pussy.” I tut. “Already wet for me,kotik?”
“The promise of youandyour stellar gift-giving skills.”
Though I chuckle, I press a biting kiss to the inside of her knee. Ignoring her cry, I let my tongue smooth higher, dipping into the soft curves and swells of the strong muscles that let her twirl around that pole like she’s a professional.
All these weeks later, the sight of her on there, my wife, fascinates me.
My dick hardens just at the memory of two nights ago, when I watched her practice and she gave me a private lap dance.
As much as I want to put her on a shelf, pristine and pretty, Victoria wants more than for me to be her collector.
She wants a husband.
I lathe an open-mouthed kiss to her inner thigh, enjoying her shiver.
God, she’s so responsive.
I didn’t realize how much I needed that in a partner until her.
She doesn’t just want me. She shows me. Every minute we’re together.
Nipping her to put her on edge, I quickly dive into her apex and let my tongue hover over her clit.
She moans, hips immediately rocking forward and back as she falls into my kiss.
“That’s what you meant,” she says on a sigh.
I look up and notice her eyes are closed, but the satisfied smile she’s wearing fills me with need only she can satiate.
I’m a murderer.
To many, I’m evil…
Just not to her.
Never to mykorovka.
As I suckle her clit between my pursed lips, she moans as I tip her legs wider so I can settle closer. Her quiet breathing gradually speeds up, her soft whimpers morphing into more urgent moans. Those moans switch into mewls then, subsequently, into keening cries that I’ll never tire of hearing.
I thrust my tongue into her cunt, tasting her wetness, her need for me. I nip one of her pussy lips just to make her pout again, then I sink in for the long haul.
Every time she gets close to her orgasm, I veer off course. My mouth lays open kisses on her outer labia, slipping and sliding through her juices, collecting them to savor her taste.
Eventually, my mouth and chin are drenched in her and she’s back to struggling against the bindings. The desperate sounds she’s releasing fill me with an urgency that I have to fight.
