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I lay the dress over the foot of the cot before straddling Quinton’s lap. “Now. Where were we?” I wind my arms around his neck and settle in against him. My craving for him is too much to hold back. He’s never seemed as precious to me. We might have missed out on this.
“I think I was about to get naked with my wife.” His lips twitch as he holds back a smile. “Wife. It’s going to take a minute for that to sound right.”
“But it feels right, doesn’t it?”
His hands cup my ass and haul me in closer until I’m wedged against his growing dick. “Feels pretty good to me,” he growls. Yet instead of throwing me onto the cot the way I expect, he rubs me against him, teasing us both.
I don’t want to be teased. I want him. All of him. An hour ago, I was sure I’d die without seeing him again, touching him again. I’m almost ready to whine with need. “Touch me,” I beg before kissing him. Rather than let him do the grinding, I take over. He growls into my mouth, and wetness floods my slit.
“Where should I touch you?” he asks when I come up for air.
“Everywhere. All of me.” I unbutton his shirt with trembling hands before pushing it over his shoulders. I can’t be close enough to him. My heart’s pounding, but so is his. I feel it thumping in his chest when I pull him tight against me.
He moves my thong aside, and I moan in relief when he runs his fingers between my already swollen lips. “So wet,” he groans as he works his way through my sensitive folds. I rock my hips faster, bearing down on him. My body has taken over, searching for satisfaction. A single moment of bliss after so much ugliness and pain.
His lips travel my throat, my shoulder, his tongue painting my skin.
Now I’m an express train racing to the finish, rocking frantically, desperate for release from the delicious agony he’s putting me through. “Please…please…”
“Please, what?” The pressure from his finger increases as he assaults my clit. “What do you want?”
“I want… to come… oh, please…”
He chuckles against my neck, and even that is exquisite. The intensity of my arousal makes even the slightest contact feel like an explosion of sensation. The sensation of his breath makes my skin sizzle, and all I can do is whimper, helpless against it. “You ready to come?”
“Yes, oh, god…”
“You want to squirt all over my hand?”
It’s torture. He’s killing me. I hope it never stops. “Please, yes!”
“Then be a good girl. Come for me, Aspen.”
I squeeze my eyes shut a split second before it hits, crashing over me all at once. It’s like flying, soaring above the clouds with the sun in my face and nothing around me but a clear, blue sky. The rocking of my hips slows, and the sensation fades away until there’s nothing but the cell. Quinton. His arms around me, mine around him. I bury my face in his neck and offer a quiet moan before shuddering one last time.
“That sounded like fun.” He’s not finished yet, not even close. There’s hunger in his voice that calls out to the hunger in me, promising much more than a single orgasm to mark this occasion. “Think you have another one for me?”
He lifts me slightly, giving himself room to unzip his pants and remove his dripping dick from his shorts. I take it in my hand, rubbing precum along the shaft before giving him the first slow stroke. He closes his eyes, his jaw working, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Fuck…”
Now I can control his pleasure the way he controlled mine. There are so many ways to feel powerful. I’m starting to understand that now. Having control over my life. My safety. My body.
I control my husband’s satisfaction. I control him, really—he’s entirely at my mercy, and knowing I can please him only heightens my pleasure.
Taking a page from his book, I lean in and give his earlobe a playful nibble before growling. “What do you want me to do with this?” I rasp, giving the head a slight squeeze before running my hand down to the base.
He lets out a long groan. “Put it inside you.”
I raise myself on my knees and line him up with my quivering hole before lowering myself on him. Slowly. Savoring the sensation of every inch pushing into my channel. We both grunt when I slide home, joining us completely.
He opens his eyes and looks into mine. I wonder if he’s thinking what I am. We’re married now. Forever. Tears fill my eyes, and I touch the side of his face with my palm, running a thumb over his lips as I begin to move.
He kisses me, then kisses away the tear that spills onto my cheek. “Don’t cry,” he whispers.
