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Taylor’s hand is tight on mine as we climb into the limousine waiting outside. She’s smiling, so I assume she’s not as stressed as she is excited about becoming my wife.
As soon as the doors close, she laughs. “I can hardly believe that we’re married!” she exclaims, holding up her hand to admire the stacked rings. “It’s like a dream.”
“You are my dream,” I tell her, taking her hand and kissing it.
She gives me a bashful look, but quickly jumps back into her excitement. “What now?”
“We will go back to the house, and I will make your body mine,” I reply, feeling the tightness of my pants as my cock grows.
She looks down at my obvious erection, then back up at me with wide eyes. “Yes, please,” she says softly.
12
Taylor
Danya throws me onto a king-sized bed with black sheets and a dozen fur pillows. I land, rolling over and spreading out my arms and legs like a starfish, laughing as I look up at the ceiling. I’ve never felt quite so alive.
I sit up as I hear his belt jingle, not wanting to miss him undressing for the first time in front of me. I’ve seen a few guys naked before, but not Danya. He’s different. His body is so sculpted and muscular that it’s hard to believe he’s even a real person. It’s as though someone found a way to bring a marble statue to life.
Danya drops his pants to his feet, stepping out of them and unbuttoning his shirt so fast that if I had blinked, I would’ve missed it. Underneath, a broad chest and washboard abs littered in tattoos lead down to massive thighs and a bulge so big that I’m starting to regret thinking I could take him without some kind of preparation.
I should’ve masturbated before this. I’m going to be too tight for him. I’m certain of it.
He grabs his cock through his underwear, shaking it at me and grinning. “You’re not getting this until I get you out of that dress.”
“Do you want me to take it off?” I ask, my mouth going dry as the words come out.
“That, or I will tear it off you.”
I want to take my time undressing, so we trade places, and he leans back on the bed as I stand in the middle of the room and begin removing my clothes.
The dress is easy enough, and I hold my breasts as I slip out of it, trying to hide what he’s going to see in a few moments anyway. I’m embarrassed to be seen naked. I know I’m not ugly, but for some reason I still feel like I’m going to be judged over some spot or freckle.
Not that Danya has ever shown any sign of being anything other than obsessed with me, but that doesn’t solve my insecurities. Maybe over time, I will warm up and get more comfortable, but right now, I’m shy.
I try not to look at him as I unclip my stockings from my panties. His eyes are so intense and hungry that I’m tempted to make a run for the bathroom and lock myself inside until morning, but I force myself to concentrate on just getting this lingerie off. It’s beautiful, but it’s far from simple.
I let go of my breasts to peel off my stockings, feeling my nipples tighten up into hard rosebuds. Danya’s piercing gaze has found them, I’m sure of it, but I try to act like it doesn’t concern me at all as I remove my stockings.
I stand up straight again, pushing my thumbs into the waistband of my panties and looking up at Danya.
Big mistake.
My body freezes, and I can’t find it in myself to go all the way. I’m terrified that he’ll find something wrong with me. Maybe there was a hair they missed when they were waxing me, or perhaps my pussy isn’t the right shape or color.
Suddenly, I’m so self-conscious that my knees are knocking together in fright.
Danya seems to sense my fear but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he stands up from the bed, walking over to me confidently and grabbing my panties in his strong hands. Looking me in the eye, he yanks them down.
I feel the air against my bare pussy for a moment before he pulls me toward him, pressing himself into me and causing a moan to escape my lips. He silences me with a kiss, his tongue eliminating any hesitation left in me. My desire to conserve my dignity is gone.
I belong to him now.
His cock is hot and throbbing in his underwear, and my curious hand finds it easily, slipping it out from the fabric and laying it against my belly as we kiss. I feel the power pulsing through it, and I want it inside of me. I want to hear his groans as he loses control, unable to hold back as he pumps me full of his cum.
I want to be bred by him.
I’ve never thought about it before, carrying a man’s baby in my belly, but the idea causes such a rush that I get lightheaded and have to stop thinking about it. I relent to the thoughtless passion that has filled the space, relaxing in his arms as he tastes the inside of my mouth.
