Page 60 of Perfect Boy

“Good girl. You’re taking me so well, baby,” he groans. “And when you gag on me? When your throat threatens to close because it’s so full of my cock that your body can’t take it? That makes me want to fucking come right then. To come and listen to you choke on it.”

He feels smooth against my tongue, and I stare up at him, taking him deeper and longer during each pass. Slapping his free hand on the tiles of the shower behind me, he closes his eyes for a second, and he groans.

“Fuuuck,” he hisses, along with a slew of other curse words. “It’s like your mouth was made just to suck cock.” His eyes open again, and he glares down at me. “No, fuck that. These lips were made only to suck on your husband’s cock. Do you understand me?”

I rear my head back before circling the tip of him with my tongue.

Pulling my hair back, he grits his teeth. “I said, do you understand?” he barks. “When you said I do, baby, you were also saying this was the only cock allowed between these plump lips—you know that, right?” He tightens his grip on my hair, forcing my head upward.

Before I answer, I attempt to go deeper. But he pulls me back, driving his length out of my mouth.

“Answer me, Ry baby,” he hisses through gritted teeth before pulling me to my feet and cupping my neck. “Whose cock are you allowed to fuck?”

“Only yours,” I moan.

I might hate the idea of being controlled in everyday life, but when it comes to this, right here, I crave his caveman like tendencies. Maybe that’s not healthy; maybe that’s weird. I don’t care. When he talks to me like that, I know he’s doing it more for my pleasure than anything else. And I eat it up.

“Yeah, that’s right.” Pulling me to my feet, he reaches between my legs and sinks his fingers inside of me.

As he pumps them in and out, I’m weak in the knees. I grind myself against his hand harder, desperate for him.

Removing his hand from my body, he brings his fingers to his mouth and runs his tongue along them. “The best fucking flavor there is. And soaking wet all from sucking my dick?” He groans. “I promise you, baby, you can have my cock any day, anytime. All you have to do is ask. So, tell me, what do you want now? Or better yet, what do you need?”

Moving his hand between my legs again, he cups me. “Are you throbbing for me right here, Tiny Dancer? Just aching with need?”

“Yes,” I whimper. “So much.”

Snaking his hands around my waist, he lifts me up. My legs instantly wrap around his body as he pushes my back against the glass of the shower door. He brings me back down, pushing himself inside of me all at once, and I cry out in both pleasure and pain. Yet even when it hurts, I still don’t want him to stop.

His mouth is on mine, and his hands are all over me as he moves me up and down on his length. Every time he brings my body down onto his, I press harder against the glass, wondering if it’s about to shatter from the impact.

Everything tingles as my orgasm hits. I pull my lips from his, throwing my head back. Moaning, I bite my own lip just as he buries his face against my breasts. His body twitches, and his movements slow.

My brain feels fuzzy, and I squeeze my eyes shut to stop myself from passing out.

Once my soul has returned to my own body, I open my eyes and look at him.

“I hope you don’t think that’s all for tonight.” He kisses me. “We sure as hell aren’t going to sleep, Tiny Dancer. I’ve been waiting to do that all day.” He drags in a few shaky breaths. “I’ve been waiting all day to bury my cock inside of my wife on our honeymoon.”

Letting me down gently, he gives me one final kiss before spinning me around.

And then he does something I didn’t think any man would ever do for me.

He shampoos and conditions my hair.

Watson

On the couch in front of the fireplace in our suite, Ryann’s naked body is draped over mine with a blanket over us. Her ear is against my chest, and we lie here in comfortable silence as I strum my fingertips along the flesh of her bare back.

The thought that this marriage might come to an end eventually is tearing me up inside. That isn’t what I want. Not even a little bit. But the deeper we get into this, the more it crosses my mind.

“I had so much fun today.” She yawns, turning to gaze up at me. Her face is free of any makeup, and her hair is still damp and a complete mess. But, fuck, she’s so pretty. “I don’t want to go back in the morning.”

“Me neither,” I agree. “Wish we could stay here for longer. But we’ll come back sometime for sure.”

“And do one of those ghost tours?” She smiles. “I actually think that would be kind of fun. I love creepy stuff like that.”

“I hate anything to do with ghosts. But for you? Yeah, sign me up,” I say honestly. Because let’s be real; if she said jump, I’d say, How high? It’s pathetic, but it’s the truth. “Did you tell anyone where we are?”

---