Page 57 of Dragonfly

Letting go of her tit, I grab the hem of her strapless dress. One shove. One shove and, there must be a God because Savannah went without a bra. The material goes down, her breast comes out, and like a starving man who’d long been denied a feast, I drop my head and suck her entire nipple into my mouth.

And even then she doesn’t stop me.

Instead, she does the opposite. Panting softly, just about trying to climb me with her legs, Savannah starts to yank on my dress shirt. Now that she has both hands, she finds it easy to do. My dress shirt is out, and next thing I know, she’s fumbling with my button.

My button, then my zipper.

My erection springs free as if searching for her hand like it’s a goddamn magnet. She shifts her hand, rubbing her thumb around the crown, gathering up the precome I’m not too ashamed is already there.

Fuck. If she keeps playing with me, I might just blow my load before I find out what it’s like to be inside of this woman.

No. I can’t let that happen. She might complain later that it all happened too fast, that she didn’t want it, that she regrets being with me… but that’s later. At this very moment, I have her tit in my mouth, her hands on my cock, and my bloodlust from a few minutes’ ago turned to straight-up lust now.

I let go of her throat. Both of my hands drop to her waist. I’m still sucking on her tit, swirling my tongue around the nipple, kneading the mound of flesh with my nose. It doesn’t take me long to notice that he strokes—as jerky and frantic as they are—go in time to the amount of suction I use on her breast. So, of course, I use that to my advantage, keeping her distracted as I hoist her up.

Her back is still to the door. I use my body to keep her in place. She groans into my neck, obviously annoyed that she can’t keep tugging on my cock when that and her hand is trapped between our lower bellies.

I let her tit slip out of my mouth with a soft popping sound.

“Don’t be impatient, wife,” I tease, using my free hands to take hold of the bottom of her dress.

“Shut up, Damien,” she hisses into my ear. “Shut up and fuck me.”

Anything for you, ragna mia.

I yank the skirt of her dress up so that it doesn’t hinder the movement of her legs. Once she realizes she can move them wider, she instinctively wraps them around my waist.

Savannah might have gone without a bra, but she has a pair of silky black panties on. They’re fucking soaked. I can see the moisture along the edge of them and smile into her hair. Even if I doubted that she wanted this now, there’s proof that she’s as turned on as I am.

If I had my stiletto, I’d slice off the panties to save time. I don’t, and I’d rather not draw Savannah’s attention back to the weapon, either. So, instead, I hook my finger under the wet material, shoving it to the side so that I can access her pussy.

I don’t want to give Savannah the chance to change her mind. Not when I’m so close. Besides. I’m ready to explode, she’s basically creaming herself, and it doesn’t take much for me to push most of my cock inside of her in one thrust.

There’s a small amount of resistance. Not enough to make me worry that my wife is a virgin who’s first time is in the manager’s office of one of my restaurants, but I’m sure it’s been a long, long time since she’s had sex.

Probably even longer since she’s been thoroughly fucked by a man.

And she wants it. No matter how she reacts later, the moan she lets out as I shove myself the rest of the way in, fully seated inside of her as she wraps her arms around my neck, tugging me up to kiss her again, she wants it.

It takes a few messy seconds where I try to get the right rhythm going while also kissing her. I might’ve bit her one. She hisses out a breath, but if it hurts, she doesn’t complain. Oh, no. She actually squeezes my cock as I thrust up into her.

As much as I wish it was otherwise, once I knew that this would be our first time together was always destined to be a quickie. I’m still so worked up over Ricky’s disrespect, plus the mark he left on Savannah’s beautiful face. I’ve spent months dreaming of fucking this woman, too, and I’m racing my certainty that she’ll realize she lost her mind and invited the man she hates most in the world into her body.

Most importantly? I wouldn’t blame her one bit. I read the files. I pored over her folder. I know the truth.

I know why she tried to kill me, and if I was Savannah? No amount of blustering and bluffing from the man who became my captor would stop me from reaching for the pillow after all.

Not when I learned what I took from her, and how I had no idea until Tanner ran that name for me.

So for as long as I can have her? For as long as I can delude myself that this magnificent creature truly is my wife? I’m going to take it, knowing that it won’t last.

And, damn it, it doesn’t.

Once I sense that I’m close, I make sure to slip a hand between our bodies. At first, I flick Savannah’s clit. When she jolts, then tightens her hold on me, I can tell she’s close, too. I start to rub roughly, stimulating her, ripping an orgasm out of her before I nut.

Once she starts gasping into my mouth, her keening whine fucking music to my ears, I know she’s coming around my cock. The sensation of her inner walls fluttering around me is too much—as is her desperate need to kiss me again while she climaxes—and I follow right behind her, filling her up with everything I have.

Only then, when I jerk my hips one last time, sure that I’ve emptied myself does she react like a switch has been flipped.

---