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I cry out in wild abandon when his hips snap up as he yanks me down onto his velvet-covered steel. Immediately, my greedy pussy tightens around him like a vise. My inner muscles flutter along his shaft to pull him in deeper. When my ass meets his groin, we groan in unison as he stretches me.
Then we stare at the juncture of our intimate connection. Transfixed, we can’t look away as I rise on my knees. Slowly, his ten-inch dick reappears. I bite my lower lip at the sight of it coated with my arousal.
My husband growls deep in his chest.
I slam back down.
My head falls back at the burn of the stretch as his massive cock fills my pussy.
“So, fucking tight,” he grunts.
I continue with slow drags and fast drops with swirls of my hips. The angle changes as I lean forward to make his tip hit my G-Spot or back with my hands gripping his muscular thighs to stroke my engorged clit.
I lose my mind to our carnal dance. Time has no place.
Sweat drips down my spine and beads at my hairline. My heavy tits bounce with each move. The muscles of my inner thighs protest the constant clenching as I ride Luc towards our climatic finish line.
His thumb presses against my clit, and I explode.
My pussy clamps on his throbbing cock. His roar punches the air right along with my screams of pure ecstasy. A torrent of his cum fills my womb. Aftershocks rock us.
Too drained to remain upright, I slump over his sweaty torso. In my haze, I feel my skin tingle from his gentle touch as he strokes my damp back to soothe me. Amorous sighs slip past my parted lips.
“So good, Ma Petite Fille… So good,” he says in a raspy voice.
I hum in the back of my throat, then know no more once a state of sheer euphoria claims me.
* * *
Luc
“I cannot believe two months passed so quickly! It feels like we only arrived yesterday, Luc. Let’s run away for another month!”
I shield my eyes to glance at my wife as we lay naked on an oversized sunbed sipping iced lemon ginger tea and watching the islands in the distance from the upper level of Taunt Me. She barely has any tan lines since I didn’t allow her to wear clothes or bikinis for most of our honeymoon. Not even the sexy lingerie she showed me. Nice, but unnecessary.
It’s been weeks of lovemaking—all over the megayacht, in the water, on secluded beaches only accessible by a tender—excursions onto the islands, and plain old time alone. Pure heaven.
I don’t blame her for wanting to stay longer. We’ll have to add at least three trips a year here.
But she’s eight months pregnant. We need to return to Paris for a check in with Dr. Berger, even though she met twice with a doctor he recommended here. And I’m needed at Banque Montaigne.
On our way back, I’ll drop in on some of our branches while we’re in Hong Kong, Tokyo, Los Angeles, and in New York. I’m mentally preparing myself for the return to the real world and the nearing of her due date. I fight the fear of a repeat fatal birth creeping into my mind.
“You’re almost as glum as I am.”
Blair’s words rouse me from my musings. She leans over and cups my cheek as her thumb brushes over my lips.
“What’s bothering you, my love? You’ve been quiet since yesterday,” she says with a crease between her eyebrows.
I don’t want to upset her or cause her to worry. Instead of voicing my fear, I kiss her lips and tell her about the hectic schedule I face upon our return.
“Oh, my love. That’s a tough one. But I know you can handle anything.”
“Thank you, Mon Amour,” I say. A quick shake of my head clears it, and I prowl over her luscious, sun-kissed body. “Enough talk of the real world. We must take advantage of our last few hours, Madame Montaigne.”
She purrs when my lips meet the back of one knee, then her inner thighs as I lower my mouth to her sweet pussy.
“Absolutely, Monsieur Montaigne,” she sighs as I part her moist flesh with the tip of my tongue.
