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I groan, push deeper into her mouth, and don't let up.
She takes it, even though her eyes water.
From time to time, she glances up at me like the good little lass that she is.
My fucking lass.
My wife.
Jesus, she's my wife.
I have to get her out of here.
She sucks harder, swirls that tongue, and I about fucking lose it.
My instincts take over, squashing my conscience, and I hold her head firm, moving her back and forth over me till I'm about to explode.
Then she moans, and I can't control myself anymore. She moans and sucks and licks until I'm coming in her mouth.
My little virgin bride takes all of me in, swallowing every drop better than anyone I've ever had, sucking me dry. When she's done, she looks up and smirks. Twin trails of mascara run down her cheeks.
I swipe at them, pick her up, and she wraps her legs around me. I tug her head toward my mouth and kiss her.
I couldn't be any prouder that she's my wife. No one else in this room can have her, which only adds to my satisfaction.
There's no doubt every man, and many women, would do anything to have her. There's something about Maeve. No one else possesses it. And she's mine.
I move over to the wall in the room with all the restraints. Before she knows it, her back's against it. I grab a set of cuffs and order, "Put your arms in the air."
She freezes and inhales sharply, looking at me with curiosity and maybe a bit of fear.
"Now," I bark.
She slowly slides her arms over her head and I secure them in the cuffs.
"What are you going to do, baby girl? You can't get out of this. You're mine."
She nods. "Yea. I'm yours."
I hold in my groan. She's so perfect. I ask, "What should I do with ya in front of all these people?"
She doesn't take her eyes off me, waiting for me to answer my own question.
I turn her head and put my cheek against hers. "Everyone's watching us. Is this what ya wanted?" I glance back at her.
She tears her eyes off the crowd, and there are so many mixed emotions in them. It makes me think again that I should get her out of here.
"You want to go home, sunshine?" I question.
The devil on my shoulder is happy when she shakes her head. "No, I want ya to fuck me how ya want to fuck me."
I study her for another moment.
She yanks on the cuffs, and I glance up. She meets my eye with a challenging stare. "Is this all ya got? You're just going to cuff me here? You're not going to do anything to me?"
My mind spins with lewd thoughts, mixing with my common sense. But my common sense won't win. This is too much for me. I'm in my element. I'm with my wife, who I can't seem to not want, who I fight every second of the day not to take, and I'm over not having her.
So I take my hand and I slap her ass really hard.
