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That first orgasm was bliss.
The real fucking began after that.
I cried out as he thrust into me far harder than before. He did it again, over and over again, sinking into me so deeply that I could feel him slamming against my cervix. I whimpered with alarm, but that did nothing to slow him down.
If anything, he fucked me even faster.
Now that I’d already come, I was extremely sensitive. My entrance burned hot from the endless stretch of his massive girth. Even my cervix grew sore, punished by the head of his cock over and over again with his frenzied fucking.
This wasn’t making love.
This wasn’t just a fucking either.
This was a claiming. A complete possession of my body and soul.
This was a man making me his wife.
With every thrust, he was branding me as his. With every cry that fell from my lips, he fucked me harder.
Soon, my cries turned to moans and to full-throated screams. He didn’t slow down. His pelvis slapped against my clit, and I came for a second time that night, even harder than the first. I squeezed my eyes shut and arched into the fucking, taking him deeper. My orgasm seemed to go on forever and ever with no end in sight.
There was nothing else except the two of us, connected in a way that was far more visceral than anything I could have ever dreamed of.
This was love.
This was us.
Our souls connected so tightly in that moment that it tied us together as one more thoroughly than any dress or ceremony could.
When that second orgasm started to crest, my entire body felt like it was aflame. My skin was feverish. Beads of sweat threatened to cascade down my face, but none of that mattered. His cock thrusting into me was everything I had ever needed and everything that I ever wanted.
His hand slipped up toward the back of my scalp, fisting in my hair. His every thrust brought a fresh burst of agony across the back of my head, surging down my spine and settling deep in my core.
Immediately, a third orgasm slammed into me, fierce and merciless as a tsunami crashing into a crumbling cliffside. I came so hard that my vision blackened at the edges. He groaned and his fist tightened. I cried out, bucking beneath him.
“You’re mine, little bride,” he roared. He rode me hard enough that I worried that I might bruise, jerking faster and faster. At once, a blazing fire spurted up inside me, thick and deliciously hot.
My own orgasm continued, so long and hard that I struggled to draw in air. My legs quaked and my lungs constricted, every muscle in my body tensing with soul-shattering pleasure.
When it eventually started to fade, I was shaking. With a whimper, I curled against him, knowing that last orgasm was the hardest one I’d ever had. His hips pumped more slowly now. As his seed dripped onto my thighs, I bit my lip, a little embarrassed yet utterly satisfied.
He leaned down and nipped my other earlobe.
“Do you see why I made you wait, my little bride?”
“Yes,” I whispered, still struggling to suck in a full breath of air. For a long time, he just held me. Eventually, I fell asleep.
When I woke up, I was still safe in his arms.
CHAPTER16
Ryker
When I woke up the next morning with Naomi still in my arms, my heart swelled. Still asleep, she curled into me, seeking out my warmth and I tightened my grasp slightly around her, a part of me never really wanting to let go. The scent of her shampoo still lingered, an intoxicating mix of citrus and vanilla and something else. I breathed in deep, wanting to remember this single moment forever.
She stirred a little, stretching against me and pressing her bottom against my groin. Immediately, my cock hardened, my balls squeezing tight with heady arousal.
“Good morning, husband,” she whispered.
