Page 112 of Every Version of You

“Yes,” I breathe.

“Are you scared?”

“Yes.”

“There’s no need,” he says, lifting my chin with his fingers. “I’m going to take good care of you and talk you through everything. You’re mine now, and I take care of what’s mine.” His thumb grazes my mouth. “Now paint my cock with those pretty lips.”

Jesus Christ, I could explode with lust at this very moment.

The mouth on my husband is next level.

I waste no more time and right as I grab his thick shaft, my tongue finds his crown and I lick the bead of precum from the tip. I have to remember I’m virginal and unsure of myself, so I take a tentative lick instead of trying to deep throat this virile man like my inner horn dog tells me to.

“Like this?” I ask innocently, kissing along the snaking vein.

“Almost, baby. Open your mouth and show me that sweet tongue. That’s it,” he praises, then pushes the uncut head into my mouth and groans. “Now, suck me. Ungh, yes. Good girl. Make it wet. Let it drip everywhere.”

When I start to stroke through the wetness, he braces his hands in my hair, holding it back for a better view. “So pretty, my bride. Doing such a good job for me,” he hums, clearly enjoying my suck and twist combination.

“Okay, okay,” he huffs, pulling himself out of my mouth and leaning low to kiss and taste me. “Very good. But I need you to lay back,” he says, hovering over me as I scoot to the center of the bed.

“I’m going to make you ready for my cock. Have you ever had a man kiss you down here?” he asks, sliding his fingers through my wet, bare slit.

“No,” I whimper. “You’re the first.”

“I’m the only. Got it?”

“Yes,” I repeat.

While he plays gently with my pussy, he laps and bites at my hardened nipples, then takes large mouthfuls and hollows his cheeks as he rolls each peak against his tongue.

“Oh god,” I breathe. “That feels amazing.”

“I’m just getting started, my love,” he smirks, trailing more kisses down my body until he reaches my center. “Now spread your legs and let your husband do all the work.”

“Yes,” I sigh when his tongue runs across my clit and he opens me with his thumbs. He dives in softly at first, building me up with every long swipe and flick. My back arches off the bed as my hands find purchase in the covers. He has me writhing and moaning his name like it’s the only word I know.

Then all at once, while never taking his mouth away, he shoves one finger inside me, and I gasp like the virgin I am. “Oh god! It’s too much,” I feign, throwing an arm over my eyes.

“It’s not,” he growls. “You can take more; I know you can. Open for me, beautiful. I’m going to add a second finger, and it’s going to feel good. You need to be wet and relaxed before I give you my cock. Do you trust me?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good,” he rumbles, then starts suckling at my clit again and slowly adding a second finger. “That’s my girl—that’s my wife—riding my hand like she was made to.” His fingers curl inside my body, rubbing my rough patch and sending me to new heights. “There she is. Come for me, Angel. Come on my face,” he mumbles through my pussy. “And then I’ll really make you my wife.”

He fucks me with his hand and eats me out for only a few more moments before I’m clenching around his fingers and chasing the sweet friction of his late-night stubble. I don’t realize I’m holding my breasts like stress balls until he finally releases me and slides his fingers out and licks them clean.

“Are you ready?” he asks tenderly, climbing over me and bracing his arms on either side of my head. His erection lays against my lower stomach and his heavy sac presses against my still-quivering pussy.

“I think so,” I pant.

“Now’s the best time.”

“Will it hurt?” I ask, touching his neck and sliding my hand over his jaw.

“It might for a moment,” he whispers, then leans down for a languid kiss. “But I promise to go slow, and the pain is worth it.”

“Thank you,” I murmur into his warm lips. “I love you, Mr. Jimenez.”

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