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“Shh.” I caressed the sting with my lips, my tongue tracing the soreness before straightening and whipping the backs of her thighs. “There’s my fast little learner.”
Her ass bore the brunt of four more whips.
“Now apologize for pretending like you aren’t mine, when we both know you’ve been since the moment you eye-fucked me at the club.”
“F-Forgive me.” Every line in her body shook with her well-deserved punishment. “You’re mine, too, Zeno. I won’t ever share you.”
She inflicted another fracture in my armour.Ionly want to belong to you.“I’m all yours, baby.”
Grabbing her waist, I flipped her on her back once more. She inhaled through clenched teeth, her ass sore and red. Rubbing her thighs, I split them open and leaned down to kiss her stomach. “Remind your master what you mean to him.”
She moaned when I thumbed open her pussy and blew air, licking along her slit. Her nectar sat on my tongue like an aphrodisiac, but I held back from eating her out even though my mind demanded I have my dessert.
The chains clanged as Darla tried to move closer to me. Physical touch and words of affirmation were her love languages, I learned quickly.
“I’m your wife and your whore, Zeno.”
“You’re also my queen, Darla. Don’t ever forget it.”
Dipping my pinky finger into her wetness, I watched her back bow. She cadged for more of my fingers and I refused to give her what she wanted, prolonging her torture.
I rounded the altar so I stood next to her head.
Eyes blindfolded, her mouth still sensed my request.
“Taste yourself,” I commanded and she wrapped those lips around my finger with a hum. “Je suis ton mari. Je suis tonamant. Et je suis ton maître.”
Darla kissed the amber in my ring when I drew out my finger—the one that crowned me Seigneur des De la Croixes—like she was finally paying her respects.
“I won’t forget it,” she whispered.
The suspense of the moment escalated and Darla strained to hear my next move. I cracked my neck on each side, dropped the flogger, and watched her body twitch.
Undoing my white dress shirt, I observed how she grew increasingly restless.
Her skin begged to be embellished with more bruises and the passion of the flames circling us. I’d never forget how her walls strangled my cock when I drizzled candle wax over her frame like a painter adding the final touches of varnish to his masterpiece.
My shirt, belt, and pants joined the floor and her breath hitched, ready, so fucking ready to receive everything I was willing to give.
I threaded my fingers into her hair and yanked her head closer to my bobbing cock. My tip touched her cheek and Darla turned her head to envelop me in her warmth.
“La miaputtana, Darla,” I groaned, throwing my head back as she sucked me like a hard candy. “This is the only cock you’ll ever have inside you. I’ll kill any man for trying to take you away from me.” I thrust into her mouth with a growl. “Any.”Thrust. “Fucking.”Thrust. “Man.”Thrust. “Même Dieu ne pourrait pas tevoler de moi.”
Not even God could steal her from me.
I would never allow it.
Angrily, I thrust again and again, pinching her nose. Her red-stained lips stretched around my girth and I reveled in the sloshing noises coming from her mouth. “Goddamn, I want to christen this tight little throat with my cum, baby.”
My wife’s body heaved and she clenched her thighs needily.
Who would have known this classy, elegant principal would get off on a face-fucking?
Not ready to come, I yanked my cock out with a ragged sound and Darla coughed, spit cascading down her chin. Her head lolled back against the altar and her nose scrunched as she breathed uneven, blind eyes desperately searching for me.
“Tell me who you belong to.”
“To my husband. To my master. Toyou, Zeno.”
