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When I finally looked down to find him on his knees, I couldn’t stop the flood of love and happiness from spilling down my cheeks. Feeling the cold platinum slide on my finger, the pink diamond staring back at me, I felt…home. At peace. Complete. For the first time since I gave myself to him, I felt confident and like a woman. I said nothing. Instead, I rose above him, reached behind my back, and unzipped my dress. I watched his pupils dilate as it pooled at my feet, revealing I was wearing no bra and no panties underneath. What? The dress was too tight.
“You fucking went out of the house with nothing on underneath your dress, angel?” his voice, gruff and hoarse as he tries to restrain his anger and need. Neither of which does he need to hide. I am not scared of his anger, and his need is only matched and mirrored by my own.
“Yes. I didn’t want lines.” I tell him, and I stand before him a new confident woman.
“Lines? You innocent fucking cocktease. You have been walking around spreading your scent, swaying that plump ass in front of other men because you were worried about lines?” My eyes drop to his pants, and I see the tent brushing against his zipper. Hell, he could probably fit an army under there; his length is so pronounced. I say nothing, swallowing the saliva, desperately trying to come out thinking about the amount of pressure he must have built up. “Stop eye fucking my pants, angel, and answer me.” He says this, but he unzips his pants and pulls his cock out, stroking him. I whimper, knees pushed together, trying to get friction where I need it right now. I can feel my desire running down my thighs. I am a mess. I am hot, throbbing, and so fucking horny.
“Y-yes.” That's all I can say right now.
“I should put you over my knee and redden your ass for that shit.” Yes, please, my mind chants over and over. “But Christ, right now, I need my tongue between those petals, slurping that honey until my lips are too sticky to move.” Oh, God. I moan when his hands pull me into his face. “Hmmm. You smell like my wife,” he says, running his nose through my folds. God, I want to lie back and spread my legs for him, but his grip on my ass is unrelenting. “Use your fingers and spread those pretty pink lips, angel. Show me where you want my tongue.” Shaky hands and choppy breathing accompany me as I do as he has commanded. I feel the air from the fans in the room as they hit my clit and have to use his shoulders to steady me. “Yes, angel. Use me to hold yourself up. I will always be here for that. I am your rock, now. The steel behind you, holding you up against all obstacles, but I am also the one fighting them for you.”
“Yes, Julio. I know. I know.” I whine, wanting him to ease the ache.
“Look at this messy cunt.” Lick. “Is all this honey for me?” Lick.
“YES!” I shout into the empty space, every touch of his tongue on my nub shooting fire through my veins.
“Spread your legs more, angel. I want to see it drip.” Crap. Every movement is clumsy and frantic. I would do anything to get his mouth all over me. “Christ. Your thighs are so fucking shiny and thick. Did you know my favorite dessert was glazed donuts, baby?”
“N-no. No.”
“Yes. I can smell the sugar, baby.” Lick. “So sweet, angel.” Lick. My legs are going to give out any minute. I am barely standing, held together by the grip he has on my thighs that are going to be bruised in the morning and my hands on his shoulder and his head. “Look at my cock, spitting all over the grass in this place. Do you see the fucking mess I am making right now? I am fertilizing the room in your name, angel. In your honor. When I am done, I am going to make a donation and have this room renamed for you. For my love. My Lily.” Slurp.
“JULIO!” his words and the pressure on my clit send me soaring. My knees buckle, and I feel myself falling, but my landing on my back is soft and smooth. Eyes barely open, I feel him lowering me onto the blanket, his head never leaving from between my legs.
“Hold them open, and don’t move.” He places each of my hands on my thighs and spreads my legs. Eyes on mine, he leans down and sniffs before his tongue laves through my folds and sends pinpricks of tickles and sensation through my body. My nipples respond by pulling toward the sky, reaching to also be pampered and bathed in his warm mouth. My stomach contracts, basically convulses, with each swipe of his tongue, each slurp, each moan from his mouth vibrating through my body. My eyes are blurry, clouded by the trapped scream inside of me, fighting to come out, but waiting for permission from my man, my fiancé, my savior, my heart. “I will never get enough of this pussy, Lily. Never. Mine.” Lick. “Mine.” Slurp. “Mine.” Smack.
