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“But then I’d have to kill any motherfucker that saw you like this.”
Savannah blinks up at me, and she’s a mess.
Tits hanging out over her ripped shirt.
Leggings torn to hell, puffy pink slit on display.
But she looks perfect. The most beautiful tableau I’ve ever witnessed.
“Delicious,” I growl as I grip her thighs and wrench them further apart.
Her hands start to reach down, like she’s going to try and cover herself. But before she can, I lean down and flatten my tongue against her opening.
The sound that leaves her is choked, and instead of pushing me away, she buries her hands in my hair.
I let my tongue drag up over her clit. Just once.
I want to stay right here. I want to make her come all over my face. Have her crying out my name all fucking night.
But I can do that at home.
As I start to pull away, her hands shove at my head, trying to keep me there. But she’s too weak from lust to stop me.
“Coming on my tongue is for good girls.” I crawl over her body. “Have you been good, Savannah?”
I swear she might cry, but she still shakes her head. “N-no.”
“No,” I repeat, lining my cock back up with her greedy pussy. “No, you’ve been a bad girl.” I start to inch back inside of her.
“I was scared,” she finally admits.
And I hate it. I hate that she felt that way.
“You don’t ever need to be scared of me.” I slide another inch in.
She’s so fucking wet I hardly have to push.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice is a whisper, and I know she means it.
“I know.” Another inch. “And that’s the only reason I’m letting you come.”
Her hands grapple for a hold on my back as her tits rub against my chest.
Her eagerness, her willingness is going to send me over the edge.
But I need to get her there first.
“You want to come on this cock, Wife?”
“Please,” she begs, and I feel the plea in my balls.
Next time she begs me, it’s gonna be from her knees.
I move my mouth until my lips are just brushing against hers.
“Please, who?” I demand. “Who am I?”
She tries to pull me closer. “You’re my King.”
