Chapter Text
For Him
She was standing in the archway with nothing but heels and a robe on.
Red lipstick. Red heels. White robe.
Maybe she did something with her hair today as well, but when I charged across the room to crush her body into mine, I wasn't going to see it right away. My day was too long, and my cock was too hard. I'd make it up to her and tell her how beautiful she was after I ruined the intricate pinup. But right then my hands were digging in it, completely destroying whatever style she had before I reached her, and I felt her small, knowing smile with my tongue, prior to my tongue slipping by and teasing hers. She might have gotten her nails done too, as they were drawing the faintest scratch across my neck that made my dick twitch against her belly.
I navigated our entangled bodies, mysteriously, to the nearest room, the guest room, where I collapsed right on top of her. But she was breathless for an entirely different reason when I sucked her breast through the robe. So impossibly soft, she always felt like the most delicate thing in my world, but I could never resist being rough with her. She could take it. She knew I knew she could take it. And so I didn't worry about the ragged gasp she made as I bit down on her nipple; I was encouraged. I licked and sucked her powdered snow skin until she was the one ripping the robe apart to give me access.
She sent my senses reeling.
Cradling my head in her hands, I paid homage to her, I lavished on every inch of her in my sight. Her scent was so clean, so sweet, so Ana. I yanked my slacks down quickly, just eager to get some room, but this was about her right now.
Passing her belly button, she lifted her leg for me instinctively, and her hands danced up her body and back down again into my hair. I took first one labium between my teeth, caressing the soft skin with the very tip of my tongue, then the other, showing this one the same attention. She tasted of nirvana. She smelled as if she created the very perfumes of the earth in herself.
Such a high I'd felt, drinking from one of the wonders of the world, imbibing from her. Turning my head only slightly I inhaled the skin of her thigh, then planted searching kisses across the expanse until my lips hovered directly above her core, the scent and heat blasting forth and over me with such force I groaned. My eyes met hers just over the mound of her flesh, and at her eager nod I finally tasted her.
I tasted her and couldn't stop tasting her.
Then... I simply wanted to claim her.
With a quick nudge to either of her legs I had her spread under me, noting her small whimper of timidity but ignoring it, and within a second more I pulled her body down the mattress so she was brought right unto my mouth. The onslaught was merciless the second my tongue met her, and I admittedly put her pleasure in the back of my mind to enjoy this experience myself.
My tongue roved the seam of her wet flesh top to bottom and back again, nibbling and suckling at the puffed skin until it were as flush as she, then dipped into her slick entrance and licked maddeningly at the soft walls. Each thrust of my tongue brought a lunge of her hips, brought a hitch to her breath, a moan from her throat. Her hands were restless, first clawing at her breast, twisting at the nipple, then one scratching my scalp as the other dug into my shoulder. Her heavy sighs and forlorn cries created a knot in the pit of my stomach, one that I quelled at my best by gripping my dick in my hand and tugging at the rigid thing until I moaned right along with her. It wasn't long before the slight quivering of her vaginal walls squeezed a little more firmly, a lot more frequently.
"Oh God," she panted, and the sound was like music. "Fingers, Christian. Use your fingers." And I was only so happy to oblige.
I slipped first one in, then two as her back lifted off the bed. Just as she was ready to take that dive into oblivion I added a third, stretching and stroking her until she froze in that arched position with an almost distressed cry, her voice high pitched, feverish. "Yes, yes, yes. Oh fuck, yes. Ahh that feels so good, Christian, yes! Ahhhhh God."
She was speaking nonsensically and fast, her orgasm lasting as long as her mouth moved. I couldn't withhold my smirk when she finally collapsed back onto the bed. Her eyes were dazedly hooded and her mouth stuck in a permanent, perfect 'O'. She was a vision.
I gave a guttural grunt as my dick pulsed for the final time, spurting thick ropes of semen onto the back of my hand, onto the sheets that hung from the bed. Anastasia, still off in her own land, had her head tilted onto her shoulder, looking down her body at me, watching me, that beautiful 'O' now smaller but remaining. She glanced first at my hand, then the softening yet ready to go member it gripped, before locking onto my eyes and staying there. We gazed at each other for so very long. Time, although wholly irrelevant in the matter, did not exist in the depths of her eyes. I was hard again when she spoke, voice slightly hoarse. She cleared her throat and repeated herself at my pardon.
"May I taste it?"
I raised my hand to her still parted lips, watched her taste my seed. Her eyes fluttered shut as she brought it to her mouth, her tongue darting over her bottom lip—whether to clear the fluid or to have a second try, I did not know.
Damned if I was one to care.
Wordlessly, she shifted herself onto all fours, and I sprung up onto my feet as she did so. Even with the evidence of how wildly fucking sexy I found her seeping into the sheets, seeing her ass propped up in the air, those perfect breasts hanging as she crawled towards me; I was aching and twitching in her direction. Eager for any amount of sexual energy she was willing to waft at me. "I'm going to blow you now," she smiled, and I may have moaned, but I didn't hear it over my heart pounding in my ears.
I indulged in her pretty smile for a single selfish moment. I'd extended my length into that glossy red mouth in the next.
There was a sliver of ice down the side of my spine as I delved deeper inside of her, as her tongue formed a salacious suction around me. I couldn't come up with words of great pleasure, but I felt it all right then. My balls were heavy with want to release, and it was an uphill battle not to do so. Again. Especially when my wide eyed girl refused to look away. Her stare was a contest, a luxury as she worked me at her leisure. And, by God, I let her. I couldn't look away. Her tongue light as a feather one second and a flat, wet lash another. She knew exactly what she was doing, gave me no objecting impression of that. And she knew the effect she was having on me. I nearly seized up when she toyed with the underside of my tip.
"Enough," I ground out, fisting her hair into my hands, wincing as I allowed her to slide my cock out of her mouth, agonizingly slow. I was here to torture her, but the opposite seemed to be happening.
She's ready for me.
It's clear in the hood of her darkening gaze, the strain of her nipples peeking from the gaps of her fingers as she palms them. Foreplay's over.
"Turn around," I commanded, and she did so simply. Her back arched toward the bed, that glorious ass hanging over the edge of the bed. With her every audible breath, the light mist of perspiration on her skin caught the light, and I couldn't ogle her any further when she tossed a tendril of hair over her shoulder to smirk at me.
I entered with no warning, no preamble. I wanted her, and I wanted my cock inside her. I wanted her to come, then I wanted to come inside of her.
She was already at the perfect angle to receive me, taking my strokes one by one, gripping covers in one hand and rubbing her clit with the other. I pushed past the soft hugs of her walls, fucked her until the tremors turned to pulsing that matched our ragged heartbeats. When I bent my knees to slide further yet into home, she rocked hard, seized, and shuddered her way to orgasm. Crying into the sheets. Milking me for all I had.
When I pulled out she mewled in protest. But she had to know I couldn't be done with her just yet. I coaxed her down onto her side and folded her legs together, and inch by slothful inch I reentered her this way. To say it was divine would be an understatement. She took in all of me. I felt every iota of her. Now I'm aching for release.
Her response to the sudden spike in speed and power is gripping those sheets harder, grinding that ass into my thrusts. The sinful slapping of wet flesh is only punctuated by a wanton moan, a swear for more, harder, fuck me Christian's, please fuck me's. I came thunderously. Poured it all right into her and filled her to brim. I pulled out but did not pull away. Instead I fell to the bed beside her and hugged her so our every line met.
She nuzzled her nose with mine and did not kiss me, but smiled against my mouth. I cocked a half smile back.
"I like what you've done with your hair," I murmured, and fewer things satisfied me more than making my wife's eyes roll back into her head. No matter the reason.
Chapter 2: Part Two
Chapter Text
For Him
A shiver runs up my spine, despite my conviction.
There is a flat, wide band in his hands, rather intimidating to look at. Seeing the worry rise in me, he gives me a sweet peck of a kiss and guides me down onto the bed, laying me on my back as he loves at my neck. He knows when I have calmed, and rises to appraise me with dark, excited eyes. My tongue wriggles against my teeth. The desire to know what he has up his sleeve always leaves me teetering.
His touch is light as he leans over me, his scent causes my eyes to fall shut. There is a quiet shuffle on my right before he takes my hand, pressing his lips to my palm. As his lips leave, the band he'd been holding previously slides around my wrist, enclosing it, and he lays it above me. After a long pull, my hand is laid against the bed; the band stretches over my head and across. He shifts to the opposite side, offers the same tender affection, and lays my wrist above me in its restraint to mirror the other. I am effectively stretched out before him. My breasts are trained right up to him, back pulled taut like a measured string. I open my eyes when he is no longer atop of me, only to see him descending between my legs.
He looks me in my eyes as he plants an open-mouthed kiss on my inner thigh, and my sigh empties my lungs as he gives a long, languorous lick to the seam of my sex. His moan vibrates my entire lower half, and he hooks his arms beneath my legs, yanking my body down the bed as he devours me. He lathes at my clitoris with the flat of his tongue to the tip, over and over, alternating between soft and hard laps, and voracious, greedy suckling. His thumb teases my opening, just pressing in, spreading the lips, and rubbing maddening circles into me until I am found writhing, in the most awkward manner in these restraints.
"I'm going to take you now." His voice is the faintest, strained whisper across my dewed skin, but I writhe harder, cry out eagerly in a resounding, "Yes."
I watch from over the rise and fall of my chest as the top of his head tilts to the side, and gasp as his full lips wrap around my sex's, almost in the manner of a kiss. His tongue dips into the seam and curls out again before he stands above me, mouth shining with my arousal and his efforts. Anticipation and lust sit heavily in the pit of my stomach, it mirrors in the furling grey of his eyes. He unbuttons his top, and as it hits the floor mutely he starts on his trousers. When he is finally naked I break away from his fiery gaze to rake my eyes over his amazing physique, his rock hard erection. It strains proudly against his belly.
His hands shape around my hips, lifting and yanking me down the bed so our thighs meet. Without moving himself, he manipulates my body like his toy, teasing me, torturing us. The hot head of his cock slips and slides around me. Nudging my clitoris. Stretching the well of my entrance. Tickling my bottom. All as the hard grasp of his fingers in my skin orchestrate us. I'm doing nothing but laying here as he uses me, but my breaths are heavy pants. I feel sweat flush my skin as my heart hammers on, doing wild flips as his dark eyes penetrate me. His chest implies his breathing may be as quick as mine, but otherwise he is so disciplined, seemingly above such excitement. That chest and burning shaft were all that gave him away.
Finally, the muscles in his thighs tensed, and just as soon, I moaned at the intrusion of his cock, just the tip. He was a sadist, giving me just a taste of the sensuous length, pausing, then giving me one, two, three tiny rocks of his hips before all of him stuffed me full at once. My lower half would have risen to orbit if he weren't holding me.
This meeting was for him. He fucked me in a punishing, rough strokes, forcing me towards him as he thrust, creating a lush, lewd repetition that had my fingernails digging into my palms. I fall into a steep sensory overload in too little a time, and when my eyes have unrolled themselves from the back of my head I watch Christian with his head tilted all the way back, showing me the long, hard column of his throat, his powerful shoulders, the fit planes of his torso. All misted with perspiration as he pounded a hole into the bed with me.
My orgasm washed through me, curled my toes, arched my back. I couldn't resist, so my legs wrapped all the way around him and anchored him to me as he continued to fuck me through it. His lips molded to mine for a long, hungry kiss. His hot tongue dove straight for mine, licking and coaxing, and when planted his dick in me with one firm motion, I moaned into his mouth, dying to wrap my arms around him.
He breaks our kiss and the skin of my hip is quite sore when he releases it with one hand, undoing my restraints, and the second my tired arms are free I pull him back to me, taking his mouth again.
Almost too soon, he is gone again, withdrawing his shaft from within me and flipping my onto my belly with little effort. He takes one black pillow from beside us and stuffs it under me. Immediately after, he's even deeper inside of me than before. My sensitive and abused pussy quakes with the penetration, but takes every savory inch. I ball my fists into the cool sheets and lock my knees. This prone position is so intense and so delicious, I think I'm drooling into the bed. I can just barely hear the headboard knocking into the wall in time with his strokes over my thundering heart rate, and I think I all but go deaf to it as he gathers my hair in one hand and pulls it back while he fucks me. This time it rips through me like a lightning strike. My whole body convulses as I come. I use my fists as a leverage as I push back against him clumsily and rushed. There's so much of him everywhere and I can't possibly get enough.
Over the roar of blood in my ears I hear him groan, knowing what the sound of my ass clapping against his groin does to him, and now he's ready to go as well. He supports himself with one arm and grips my waist with the other, pounding into me now with ferocity before his thrusts stutter, then cease as he moans in the crook of my neck. I lift one arm behind me and caress his clammy cheek, and when he's gathered himself, he wraps his arm further under me and pulls me tighter to him as we kiss.
Chapter 3: Finale
Chapter Text
For Him
His lips are on my neck, my shoulders.
My hair is twisted into a spiral, swept to one side, and his hand scorches everything it contacts. Caressing me, congratulating me, as his heat irradiates my back.
I am so tightly wound, so ready for him, that my heartbeat is thundering away in my ears, forcing heavy pants from my throat as I wait. And wait. And gasp as he palms my sex from behind. I arch further for him, to him, my ass lifting and sliding back, a pitiful plea that he cruelly ignores, still taking his time to explore me at his leisure.
"If you take your hands off that chair, I will spank you, Anastasia. Do you understand?"
I nod, breathless, debating if I will test his threat. I don't.
For a brief moment, he is no longer touching me. I desperately want to turn back, to demand he resume his cruelty, but I bite my lips. I wait. This is his game; it's what he does.
He wants me to suffer before he rewards me.
But too long of a time is passing. I know he is still behind me; the same, primal instinct crackles in the air around me, colors my palette, so he's not gone anywhere. The thought of him just watching me, observing my pitiful struggling, forces a moan to fall from my lips, and I don't move my arms—I drop my head to them. I can't help myself, so I begin to move, grinding and circling my hips into the smooth wood beneath me, undulating helplessly into the air.
Finally, I hear him. One sharp intake of air, then the shuffling of fabric. My eyes flutter shut, hoping beyond a prayer that he will end this and come take me.
He doesn't—instead he goads me. Incites me with filthy words that stutter my breath, sends a flood of warmth racing over my overheated skin.
"You're so fucking sexy like this, sweetheart," I whimper at the endearment, the sound of his voice shooting a fresh ache between my legs. "Look at your curves. You look so soft and I can smell you from here," he groans. Takes a breath. "And this ass," he takes either side of my bottom into his hands, squeezing before digging his fingers in and pulling them up and apart. The movement stretches the overstimulated muscles of my inner walls, and I cry out, offering him more of me.
He utters a quiet, "Fuck," before his mouth is on me, suddenly, frantically. Fervently licking the swollen seam of sex. The abruptness of it freezes me, all of my muscles locking in place as the warning shiver of orgasm mists me with sweat. I fight it, fight it so stubbornly that tears well up in my eyes. His tongue is criminal, plunging into me and stroking and curling against my angry and pulsing walls. He doesn't touch my clitoris. Not once. Because he knows I can't help but come if he does.
Head still pressed into my arms, my eyes are shut firmly, my breaths gasping and gulping for air in hungry pulls between squeaks of abandon. The pleasure he subjects me to is too strong, rattling my tensed body as I concentrate on holding out. The vulgar sucks and pops of my flesh in his mouth dance with the hammering of my heartbeat in my ears, with my shaky, heavy breathing.
I almost rejoice when he pulls away, only giving my shoulders a brief respite from how burningly rigid I am. The feeling is short lived as he braces me, one hand steadying me, signaling me to get ready, the other guiding the heavy tip of his cock to my entrance.
That is the only warning he gives me.
In one long, unbearable movement he is inside me. All of him. Each painful, delicious inch. His groin is pressed to my ass, his hot chest against my back.
My orgasm grips me mercilessly. A blistering deluge that anchors me to the spot, broadcasting my pulse through every sensation in my body. Unbidden, I'm wailing. I know it. But I am helpless to quiet myself. The throbbing is too intense, my sex is hugging him too tightly, too frequently and greedily.
Behind me, I hear his breathing now. Angry, heavy breaths as he allows me to milk him without express permission to do so.
It feels like forever before my body comes back down, before the system-wide pulsing abates. He must notice when it does—he takes all of my hair into his hand and pulls the mass back, my head with it. His lips cover mine hungrily, passionately, swallowing my moan as I taste myself on him. And then he's moving. Thrusting into me so aggressively that our teeth click together, that the chair is thrown with his force.
The irrational need to cling to this chair, to root myself under his ministrations, is the only coherent thought in my mind. Every slam and slap of his flesh against me, into me, is so rough. Devastating. He pulls his mouth away from my own to pant in my ear. And after licking the shell of it, flicking his tongue out, his voice is a husky whisper. "You feel so fucking good. Do you feel that?"
I nod, frantic, teeth clenched. Feeling. Just feeling.
So opposite from the savagery that drives him into me, his bruising fingers gentle. The hand in my hair skates to my jaw, holding me lovingly. "I'm going to come inside of you now, Ana," he moans against me. "As deep as you can take me, baby. I want to feel every single part of you." He bends his knees, banding an arm around my middle, drilling into me from a new, mouthwatering position that has my eyes rolling back. Despite his tender words, his soft voice, he does not cease his merciless pounding. But now he encourages me through his unrelenting strokes, and his words assimilate to one gorgeous stream that strikes hot to my sensitive core, as if to a matchbox.
"I love you so much," he whispers.
"You're so beautiful.
"You feel so, so good.
"I love how you feel when I come inside of you.
"Accept me, baby.
"Give me the son, we've always wanted."
I shatter. There is nothing gentle or soft about it. It is a violent, shocking wave that crashes and crashes until I'm drowning in the pleasure, soaking the room in my decadent screams. Christian wills his words into existence as he folds one hand around my belly, thundering his thrusts until he races for his own orgasm with a guttural growl that sends a shiver down my spine, his seed pumping up into my womb with the final rocks of his hips.
A long while passes before either of us moves, before our breathing evens out. Against my back, I can feel his mouth curve into a grin, then he lifts his head to meet my curious gaze.
"Forgive me, baby. I will also accept a daughter. If she looks just like you."
I smile back at him, sliding my hands over his, over the protrusion of my stomach; ready for the spanking he's promised me.
I would give him whatever and whichever child he wanted, were it up to me. His excitement of parenthood is bringing out a side of him—along with the earth returning to my feet after such a bone bending orgasm—that makes me float with ecstasy. I haven't had time to stop and worry over which orientation the baby would gravitate to. In truth, it doesn't matter.
The life we are creating will be the beautiful byproduct of the love I feel with him.
For Him.
Jayhawk78 on Chapter 3 Thu 31 Oct 2024 02:16PM UTC
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