by Olivia Fox
It was perfect the way we fit together. We were tailor-made to fuck each other.
I pushed myself into the heated core of her body, and we grunted and gasped, locked in a mad embrace, and she writhed beneath me.
Fighting my release, I asked, “Are you almost there?”
“Yes, I want you to cum all over me!”
“Inside or out?”
“All over me. Decorate me with it.”
“On one condition.” I grabbed both her hips and dragged her back onto my erection, pumping into her at the same time.
A long, drawn-out, “Mmmmm” was all she replied.
“You.”
Thrust. I slid my hands up to grab her nipples.
“Go.”
Thrust. I tugged them hard while I fucked into her.
“First.”
Thrust.
I ran my palm over her belly and seized her clit with my fingers, squeezing, pinching, and worrying it until I felt her pleasure ripple around me, and the rough motions of my erection sent her over the edge.
My hand skimmed over her back and up into her hair, using her mane to pull her neck to me, arching her face my way.
“You are such a good girl coming for me.” I slowly thrust into her with every word, torturing myself now as my orgasm was so close.
Instead of coming inside her, I withdrew. I removed her shackles once her trembling subsided, and she looked at me quizzically.
“On your knees.”
She obeyed my command, eyes lowered, lashes skimming her cheeks.
“Look at me.” I stroked myself while my gaze locked on hers.
Her breath still came in jagged gasps and she struggled to get the words out, “Come all over me. Brand me with it.”
“You’re already mine.”
I started pumping my hard flesh again, thinking of Daphne wearing my cum on her tits.
She opened her mouth and stuck out her sweet pink tongue, shutting it only to say, “I’m thirsty for you. I want to savor you.”
My shaft jerked and jumped in my hand, and as I pulled back on it, I pounded home, blasting my cum onto her and painting her with my seed.
When finished, I dropped to my knees in front of her where she looked up at me sweetly smeared with my sperm.
With a naughty expression on her face, she rubbed my cum into her chest, over her breasts, up and down her throat as if it were lotion.
“You feel good on me,” she said.
I scooped her up and carried her to the shower.
Our union was more than physical.
I needed to touch her, to take all her hurt away. It wasn’t the afterglow talking, I thought to myself while applying soap to my baby’s slick skin.
She needed to know.
I’d wait until bedtime so she knew it wasn’t lovegasmic sex that made me choose my words. The afterglow will be over, and I can tell her what’s really on my mind.
Screw that.
I was going to show her what was in my heart.
36
Daphne
Epilogue
I could taste the salty air and water even though the wedding rock was a hundred feet above the crash of waves below.
Tony’s brother, Brando, watched his wife as if reliving their own special day on this ceremonial spot. Lucia recommended the place to me after hearing of her brother-in-law’s proposal.
My gaze returned to my husband-to-be, who had every female in the audience young and old, wishing he could be hers.
Jared, our ordained minister, said the words, “You may now kiss the bride.”
Tony stepped forward and traced his fingers over my lower lip.
“I think you proved your point.”
“Oh yeah, and what would that be?”
“I’m all yours.”
“Forever and ever mine, baby girl.” He pulled me into his arms again and the expectant crowd cheered and wolf-whistled behind us. “This makes it official.”
“My husband.” I planned on using the phrase every other sentence for the first year of our marriage.
Tony had rented the nicest suite at the luxury resort he’d booked on the coast. We retreated there as soon as we could after the wedding.
He crouched in front of me, unbuckling my high-heeled sandals, and looked up. “Do they hurt?” he asked, running his fingers over the aching soles of my feet which had been dancing for the last two hours.
“There’s a hot tub on our deck. Want to relive our past?” He waggled his eyebrows up and down.
“That would be amazing.”
Tony let me remove his tux. He’d insisted on undressing me first, so I helped him get out of his clothes while looking like the terrycloth-covered abominable snowman in my robe.
“There is a lot about our trip I cherish, even though it ended badly,” he said.
“Me too.” I palmed my hands over the bubbling froth in the hot tub and asked, “What are you thinking about?”
“It was the first time I saw you straight out of bed in the morning, and climbing in between the sheets at night. After getting a taste, I knew I’d never let you go.”
“We did a lot of tasting on our trip.” I waggled my eyebrows at him, trying to be funny.
“I thought we decided you were going to work on your delivery. And yes, we did,” he said.
“Can I tell you one thing I cherish?” My eyes dropped to his bulge, growing because of me, a fact I’d never get used to.
Pure sex was in his stare. “Of course. Please do.”
“I loved it when you made me serve my master. When we were playing priest and nun.”
“Because it’s your job, you mean?”
I nodded, taking a sip from the champagne he’d brought me. Tony slid closer in the hot tub and picked up the crystal flute, holding it in front of my lips. “This time, don’t swallow.”
The glass cooled my skin, and I sipped some of the bubbly liquid. “Hold it,” he reminded.
He took his index finger and tapped my lower lip. “Let’s see.”
I opened my mouth to him to display the bubbles still on my tongue.
“Good girl.”
Tap. Tap. “Close.”
He lowered himself, our tongues slicking together, and he drank the remains of the champagne from my mouth.
After rubbing my skin dry with one of the fluffy bathing towels, Tony led me naked into our bedroom. “You remember what I asked you when I proposed?”
“Yes.” I’d mulled over the words a million times, and recalling them to mind, they never failed to make my stomach swoop and my toes curl.
They put me on sexual edge every time.
Tony didn’t ask, “Will you marry me?” like they do in the movies. He got on his knees and instead of a ring, held up a diamond collar which cost more than all of my education combined.
“Will you be my pet? The one who follows my command. Will you be my good girl? The one who lets me please her, and who also pleases me?”
I didn’t hesitate. I wanted to share everything with him.
For eternity.
An eternity of this.
“I’m ready to be your good girl now.” My feminine reply was lilting and girlish even to my own ears.
He held me with his eyes and said, “Take another sip, no swallowing.”
I did so, and the bubbles tickled my mouth. It was hard not to swallow it down, but I wished to please him.
“Open your pretty mouth again so I can fuck it.”
The liquid sat on my tongue, and soon my lips were shoved back by the fullness of his cock. I tried so hard, but when he jabbed himself into my throat, some of the drink slid down, and my eyes watered with the effort to obey.
“Oh, oh. Why are you crying, baby?” Tony pulled himself out of my mouth, and a long strand of saliva stretched from the tip of his cock to my lower lip.
“I’m sorry, Sir. I was trying hard to be good, but I swallowed the champagne.”
His warm palm wrapped around my cheek.
“Sh, it’s okay. I could see how hard you were working. Lick the rest of your drink off of me.”
Hair still up in the French twist, I knew Tony had a great view of my tongue lapping at the swollen tip of his erection, sliding all the way down his shaft, attempting to wrap my hand around the base. He thrust down my throat, holding me in place with two hands on the sides of my head, while his length jerked and heaved in my fist.
He took one hand away, reached behind him, and I heard the “snick” of a metal fastener being closed. There was now a leash connected to my collar, and Tony used it to drag me off of his cock.
“Come with me, my pet.”
I followed his nude form, and he looked like Tarzan ahead of me, his solid ass topping a pair of thick, muscled thighs.
A man of the jungle.
Would he pull my hair, put me over his shoulder, and fuck me like an animal?
I could only hope so.
He patted the mattress, and I crawled upon it. “Face me,” he said, indicating I should position myself sideways on the bed. I did so, waiting for my instruction. “Good. Lay on your back now.”
My breath came in ragged pants in anticipation of what I’d have to do next. He could observe everything from where he stood above me, especially because he’d been booking Brazilian waxes for me ever since we were engaged.
He remained standing. “Spread your legs, baby, so I can see what’s mine.”
I slowed my breathing and did what he said, feeling so much more because I surrendered myself to him.
“Now teach me what your pussy needs.” He reached down and cupped my breasts in his hands, pushing them together and upwards so they thrust invitingly towards his mouth. It was a provocation he couldn’t resist, and he lowered his head, his erection above me where he stood, and pulled at my tight nipples with his mouth. He stopped to warn, “Show me.”
In this position, the raised mattress had me just below his straining dick, which he could’ve fucked between my breasts or shoved into my mouth.
He did neither.
Instead, he grabbed my fingers in his hand and dragged them towards my clit.
“Show me.”
“Yes, Sir.” I reached between my legs and stroked, closing my eyes to imagine his tongue lashing into me, driving me wild.
Above me, I watched in greedy fascination as the blunt head of his erection shoved urgently through the grip of his fist.
Was he going to come on me?
Suddenly, he dropped his body so his swollen cock was just above my mouth
“Open,” he growled. “Get it nice and wet, my pet, so I can take you hard and rough without hurting you.”
I struggled to breathe, my hips twisting, my pussy pulsing beneath my hand, and sensation sizzling through every part of me which was so turned on by having my air cut off by my husband fucking my face while I chased an orgasm with my fingers.
But then he pulled away, pinning my wrists to the mattress so I couldn’t relieve myself, leaving me frantic, and desperate to come.
“Don’t worry. I know what you need, my wife.”
I could hardly breathe. The hunger was so strong it caught me suspended between submission and dominance, frustration and orgasm, and something had to give.
I watched as his muscled bulk sat with his back against the headboard. He patted his chorded thighs which were stretched out in front of him, and for a moment, I thought he wanted me to lie over his lap.
The disappointment sank similar to a rock in my stomach.
I needed him.
I had been a very good girl.
“You should see your face, baby. You look like you dropped your ice cream cone on the ground.”
“Am I getting a spanking?”
“Not this time. Come over here and ride this hard-on you’ve worked up.”
The air between us was staticky with lust.
I positioned myself over him, waiting for his order.
“Shove yourself down on me until I’m all the way inside. Take all of me.”
My pussy was pounding for him. He grabbed my hips like handles, and I fell forward on his chest when he yanked me down onto his throbbing cock, thrusting into me, his jaw clenched. He covered my mouth with his to swallow my whimpers.
I needed him to fuck me. He filled me up so it was hard to tell where I stopped and he began. Every nerve ending inside of me was on high alert for what came next.
His expression pained. He used his roped forearms to lift me off and push me back on his thick erection. He pulled out almost all the way then plunged deep.
Lifting my mouth to his ear, I told him, “I want you to come inside of me, Sir.”
He pressed harder into me, deeper, filling me up with his maleness, and I gave thanks because this ultimate pleasure was mine for always.
“Don’t talk like that, baby girl. You know I can’t hold back when you do.” He stifled a hungry groan.
I luxuriated in the sensation of him yanking me onto his cock and bouncing me off his dick. My teeth clenched and toes curled, telling me I was close.
The tortured moans, which squeezed past my lips, were unrecognizable to my ears, “Keep going, keep going!” I arched back into my orgasm, driving my pussy at him, and saw how my breasts bounced with each of his feral thrusts. The sexy sight propelled me closer. “Deeper!” I said. “Don’t stop.”
My climax ripped through me as his erection drove into me.
There were no more words, just sounds of passion as he clasped my hips, pulling me hard into his last thrust, his cock first swelling and then jerking, spraying my insides with his cum.
Afterward, my legs were jelly and I lay slumped against his broad chest, watching his right hand play with the leather leash I still wore.
“Who’s commanding who around here?” he teased.
“I didn’t hear you complain,” I whispered.
“Daphne, I promise you one thing, I will never, ever disagree when you ask me to come inside you.”
“Good thing, Mr. Drago. Because if there’s one thing I promise you until the end of time—I’ll never stop asking for it.”
Keep reading for a sneak peek of Obsessive Thirst, Releasing July 30, 2021!
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Chapter 1: Tessa
The Incan sun god taunted me, unaware of the Glock in my purse. He should have sensed my present mood, pissed off.
Perilous.
Where was Bobby?
I wasn’t sure who I’d kill first —him for worrying me sick—or whoever held him captive. (If there was such a person. It was more than likely that he got stuck between the legs of some pot princess).
My fiancé was “missing”— again.
Three days this time. Longer than ever before.
On former occasions, when he forgot to call, at least he showed up in time for breakfast. I’d be pissed off as an angry hornet, imagining all night the trouble he was in, but at least I knew he was alive.
This time, neither Tribal Police nor the Sheriff’s office were eagerly pursuing his whereabouts, and I could read the writing on the wall.
They figured he’d run out on me.
Not that they were unkind. Patting me on the back, and speaking in soothing tones, “He’ll show up, Ms. Bancroft. Always does, right?”
The Incan god’s eyes flashed green, and his head spun in circles. I took a bitter sip of my rum and coke, noting its effect on my head.
Calming.
Anesthetizing.
Exactly the point.
Meanwhile, the sun god was tripping, flashing “One last pick!!!” on the screen.
This was it.
If Mr. South American Cranky Pants sucked up my money on this final spin, I’d be the last in a long line of suckers who’d come to the casino with a few hundred bucks and left with none.
I crossed my fingers and looked around, wondering if the pensioners surrounding me, sitting at blackjack tables, roulette wheels, crap tables, but mainly perched on their coz
y betting stools like me in front of blinking lights, were here for the same reason I was.
Company.
Pathetic.
This blinking, beeping, teasing machine was a hell of a lot better than sitting at home alone. Even if I did have to feed it money to hang out.
Except that now something was going on. I wasn’t a big gambler, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that the machine was reaching some kind of climax.
“Oh, you got the bonus. Last time I saw that, the lady hit a mega win.” My slot machine neighbor leaned towards me in her peach-colored sweatsuit, adorned with a painting of roses, butterflies, and sparrows. Her earrings and lipstick matched the fabric. Suddenly, she shouted in my ear, “Horace! Horace, get over here. It’s another big win.” She leaned closer still; the spinning gold coins on the display put her in a trance.
Horace shuffled up behind her, placing his hands gently on her shoulders, and murmured, “Here it comes.” He pulled a long drag on his cigarette. “The burning hot jackpot challenge. Hold on to your hats, ladies.”
I wasn’t wearing a hat but noticed I was out of drink and swung my right arm towards the server, requesting another rum and coke.
“Hey,” said my peachy neighbor, “You gotta press the button to spin the wheel.”
Apparently, I wasn’t excited enough to befit the circumstance, and that’s how I liked it.
Three drinks in. No worries, no expectations, no disappointments.
“Okay, okay. Hold your horses,” I said, tapping the big button to see if I got past the forty thousand credits just wracked up by the bonus. I should be excited, right? If those credits equaled dollars, I could pay off my points to the Dragos. I owed them back pay for leasing the spa-space in the casino, and the ruthless businessmen had been uncharacteristically understanding about my tardy payment.
Their patience wouldn’t last forever.
So why didn’t my blood pump faster, imagining what could happen if this machine paid out?
No more being afraid to come to work, in case they were tired of waiting for their percentage, and decided to break my fingers as a warning.
No more begging Bobby to bring money home for a change, instead of spending it on whatever it was out there that sucked up his take on the cannabis grow like a seventies disco diva sucked up blow.
