Page 74 of The Unwanted Wife

"Just wait until you have my cock there, baby."

She opens her eyelids and glares at me. "You’re trying to scare me."

"Am I succeeding?"

"It’s going to h-hurt?" she stutters.

"I hope so." I smirk.

She scowls. "You’re an asshole."

"I’m going to be inside your arsehole, actually."

"Fuck you," she spits out, and I laugh.

She’s so fucking delightful when she fights back. It’s this version of Starling that I fell for. I walked away after kissing her, and she flew at me, and raged, and I fell head-over-heels in love with her. Go figure.

So, when I saw her at the bakery and found her on the defensive and sad and desperate, I hated it. I wasn’t happy when she accepted the marriage arrangement without demurring. Apparently, she needed this little mock fight to find her mettle, and fuck, if I’m not going to be the beneficiary of it.

I slide closer, fit the head of my cock to her opening, and she stills. Her muscles seize up. I massage her shoulders, her neck, and when she relaxes, I slip inside and past the ring of muscle that resisted me.

"You feel so big,” she whines.

"Shh." I grit my teeth to stay where I am. Sweat drips from my forehead, down my temple and onto her back. She shivers. I shudder. "Let me in, baby. I promise, it’s going to be so good for you."

She groans, then begins to hump the bench.

"That’s it, get yourself off. Push your little clit into the stone and let it arouse you further."

She whimpers, then sighs.

I slide my finger under her breast and pinch her nipple. She clamps down on my cock, and it’s such a strong chokehold, I almost come. I grip the base of my cock and stop myself, then bend and kiss the nape of her neck, her shoulders, slide my fingers into her hair, and massage her scalp. She relaxes again, and I slide in further. "That’s it, just a few more inches."

She half laughs, half cries. "I fucking hate you."

"I love you." I close my mouth over hers and absorb her cries, even as I hold her in place and pull out, then tilt my hips and breach her again. This time, I sink in all the way to my hilt. I growl, and her cry joins mine. I pant as I stay still, allowing her to adjust. She gasps, then mewls. I push her hair to the side. "You okay, darling?"

She swallows, then slowly nods.

"A few seconds, then I promise, it’ll get better." I kiss her nose, her cheek, her eyelid over the eye I can see. Then back to her lips, where I lick her mouth.

Her lips curve. "You’re messy."

"And you make me so fucking horny."

I pull out again, and this time, when I propel my hips forward, she pushes back to meet me.

41

Skylar

He thrusts into me, and this time, hits a spot inside of me that sends vibrations up my spine. My arms tremble, and I have to hold onto the edge of the bench to stop myself from overbalancing. Not that he’d let me, for he has his fingers around my throat in a possessive clasp. The stone is smooth under me and cold to my overheated skin.

Then he pulls out, rises to his feet, and once again, maneuvers his body so my one leg is bent with the foot placed on the bench, the other is flat on the ground. In this position, he has my legs spread and can reach my pussy, which he does right away when he stuffs two fingers into my slit. I groan and squeeze my eyes shut, then gasp when I feel his cock once again at my back entrance. He pushes aside my hair with his chin and presses a kiss to my neck, up to my ear, and when he nibbles on my earlobe, everything inside me melts. That’s when he impales me again.

I’m lubricated enough for him to slip all the way in, and when he hits my A-spot, then adds a third finger inside my pussy and works them in and out of me and hits my G spot, I see stars. The orgasm crashes over me with no build up. My limbs shake, my toes curl, and even the ends of my hair seem to feel the sparks of heat and lust and sensations that sweep through me. I’m faintly aware of him groaning as he empties himself inside me. And then my knees give way as I allow the darkness to swallow me up.

I sense him pulling out, then he planks over me. The heat from his body pours over me, and beads of sweat pop on my forehead. He straightens, only to lift me up, and carry me. Then the softness of the sheets cover me. I snuggle into the pillowy softness, but before I can let sleep overcome me, I mumble, “The statue of the Starling… Did you?—”

---