Page 115 of The Language of Love

Annis bit her lip.

He did more pulsing, teasing, and tormenting, his shallow thrusts stoking the flames of her lust higher and higher without ever quenching her desire.

When he stopped, she gritted her teeth.

He chuckled, even though she’d not made so much as a peep.

This time, it wasn’t three or four lazy pumps, but a dizzying flurry of fierce, powerful thrusts.

A different, deeper tension built inside her and Annis rocked back against him, meeting each thrust. She was close—so close—

And then he stopped.

“Henry!”

“Henry what?” His voice was thick with the smug, arrogant amusement that drove her to distraction. “Did you want something?”

“You know what I want,” she whined, appalled by her need, but too desperate to care.

“I do.” His shaft flexed inside her, but still he didn’t move. “Beg for it, Annis.”

Her body clenched at his shocking command, but her mouth was already forming the words. “Please, Henry. Please make me… come.” The last word was barely a whisper, but—thankfully—it was enough.

He gave a triumphant bark of laughter and lowered his body over hers, covering her back with his chest, his arms caging hers, his hips drumming into her hard and fast.

He took her chin in his fingers and turned her head. “Look, Annis.”

There was a three-part mirror on the small dressing table. Annis gasped. The mirror showed them from the shoulders down, Henry’s huge body enveloping hers, his muscular thighs and buttocks flexing with each powerful thrust.

The dominant position was primitive and raw; it was also the most erotic sight she’d ever seen.

He supported his weight with one arm and slid the other beneath her body.

Annis cried out and clenched around him as he worked her engorged bud, his hips pounding into her, his sac slapping against her sex, his finger caressing.

“I want you to come with me, Annis.” His words were hot and harsh against her temple. “I want to feel your tight little pussy squeeze me. I want you to milk me dry.”

The shocking words were all she needed to shove her over the edge.

His pumping became wild and irregular before he drove himself home with a savage thrust, his arm like a band of iron around her waist while his body jerked, hot jets of seed lashing her deep inside.

***

“Did I use you too roughly?” Henry asked once he’d come back to himself a short time later.

“Mmm, no.”

He smiled at her thickly mumbled answer. His own body was pleasantly sore, so he knew she would likely feel the effect of their intense lovemaking tomorrow. He would need to restrain himself for a few days.

“Are you comfortable in this position?” he asked her a few moments later.

But she didn’t reply, her breathing already deep and regular.

They were lying on their sides, like two spoons, her much smaller body curled against his chest, his cock nestled in the cleft of her arse against the tight little rosette that he’d been sorely tempted to play with more than once while he’d fucked her.

But that was something for later. He was already using her far harder than a man should use a bride of only two days.

He was beyond fortunate that new wife was an adventurous, curious, and sensual little thing. Henry had just about spent in her fist when she’d asked him to show her how to pleasure him.