A grunt left his lips, and he thrust his hips out more.
Smiling, I kissed his cock, marveling at the soft yet hard texture. The pulse of his desire. All of his?—
I reared back, blinking and furrowing my brow.
“What?” he growled.
“Are—” I swallowed. I didn’t care if I angered him. I signed up to be married to him for six months, but I would be damned if I got a disease for life. “Are you clean?”
He rolled his eyes, grabbing my head and thrusting his cock into my mouth, silencing me as he fucked me.
“I am clean. I only sleep with you.”
I moaned, turned on by his taste, his texture, and the salty tang of his essence.
“I tested before our wedding, and I wouldn’t dare waste a drop of my cum. It belongs in you. To make a baby.”
He groaned, gritting his teeth as he pulled out of my mouth. I panted, licking my lips and determined to get more of a taste. Knowing I pleased him turned me on more, but he wasn’t in the mood.
Picking me up under the arms, he maneuvered me to the bed. “And you’re going to take it all.”
Before I could react or agree, he turned me around in the bed and smacked my ass hard.
“Aren’t you?”
I cried out, dropping to my hands and knees on the bed. I’d lain in here alone all this time, and I realized he wouldn’t use this mattress gently. He wouldn’t treat me softly, either.
Heat seared over my flesh from his smack, but after I breathed through the sting, I relished the warmth.
“Aren’t you?” he demanded as he got off the bed and grabbed something from a bottom drawer of the nightstand I hadn’t bothered to investigate.
I nodded, enjoying the sensation of giving in, of surrendering to his plans. My breasts hung heavily, aching at the nipples. My skin felt tight, on fire. And as I rubbed my thighs together, I noticed the slickness of my juices.
He returned, tying my wrists with a long length of fabric. After I was secure, he threaded the strip over a bar in the canopy over the bed. He’d chosen a spot toward the headboard, and with the slack he gave me, I realized I could still lean over.
That was what he demanded, his hands on my shoulders as he pushed me down.
I was tied up, on my knees, my arms held forward and locked to the bed.
He dragged his hands from my shoulders, over my back, and down to my ass, rubbing harder where he’d spanked me.
“Do you think you can handle me?” he taunted. Leaning down to kiss the globes of my ass as he inched toward my pussy, he pushed me to lower my head to the mattress.
My shoulders ached at the position, but the sweet bliss of his touch overcompensated the hint of pain.
“I’ve handled it so far,” I retorted as he lifted up from me, making me miss the sweet heat of his tongue.
“So far,” he agreed before spanking my other ass cheek twice, harder.
Before I’d finished crying out, he jammed his fingers into my wet pussy, pushing hard. It wasn’t one digit. It felt thick, intrusive and forceful, and it was just what I needed.
Letting the pressure claim me, I lost all threads on my worries. It was freeing, to rely on him and let him dictate what I had to focus on—him. His touch. His demanding instructions to come.
He fingered me and stretched me, working me up to such a frenzy with alternating slaps on my ass. Knowing he was watching it all, every drip he pulled out of me, was half the thrill.
I arched my back, thrusting up to his touch, shoving my ass in the air.
“So far,” I taunted back between desperate breaths.