Page 31 of Cillian

“I do,” reaching her lips to kiss the area around my chest where it was as noticeable as my face.

“What do you like about them?” I challenged.

“It’s hard to articulate. I guess it looks like someone dusted small, random little polka dots all over you. Especially your face.”

Mounting me, it surprised me to see her come into her own, rubbing her pussy against my cock without being so quick to cover herself, or wait for me to initiate. “Oh yeah?” my voice broke, as she guided me inside of her.

“What else do you like?” I groaned, taking hold of her juicy hips, as she ground her pelvis into mine.

“I like your red hair,” she moaned, running her fingers through it. Taking one of her nipples in my mouth, I sucked so hard, the damn thing snapped back.

“Fucking liar,” I argued as I thrust up into her, catching her off guard.

“I wouldn’t lie to you about that,” she said, pushing me down, finding the balance to her rhythm. “It’s not like I know what you like about me,” her voice a whimper, the room becoming a balance of moans and answers.

“I love your skin,” I admitted, admiring her contrast to me. “I love that its perfect and soft.” Queenie leaned in, grinding her body against mine as I held her tight. She wasn’t going anywhere.

“Your smell. You always smell so nice.” Surprised at how her strokes were sending me into a state of bliss. “You’re so fucking beautiful, but not just your outside.”

We weren’t looking into each other’s eyes, but I was aware of how far along her breath sounded, how high pitched her moans were getting, I was in the moment with her, enjoying it—with her.

“But most of all, I love when your tight little pussy gets overwhelmed with my cock.” As from underneath her, I thrust faster, her shrieks of pleasure growing more feral.

“I love it when you fuck me,” she admitted, something I knew she had to force her shy mouth to say.

“I like it when become a little whore for me and come all over my cock.” Meeting each other inch-for-inch, stroke for stroke, in record time, each of our releases held us captive in each other.

It took time to come down from each other, but not as long as our session before, that it didn’t surprise me when she still had energy left. “I wanted to ask you something,” she asked with sweet eyes.

“There is stuff you do, that I don’t understand.”

“Such as?”

By the way she tensed up, you could see she wasn’t sure how to address it. She couldn’t even say it, she just used gestures.

“When you…” She held her own hand up to her neck, to mimic my hand necklace. “Or you…” And once again, she slapped her skin, but didn’t know how to say it without being vulgar.

“You call me stuff?—”

“If it bothers you, I’ll stop,” I said, instantly feeling shame for putting that on her.

“No. I…it doesn’t bother me. I just want to understand it. That’s all.”

“I told you, I go dark sometimes. I take it easy on you, because I don’t know what you can’t handle. But most of all, I want you to feel safe with me and I don’t want to lose that.”

“So, there’s more to it? Darker than that?”

“Yeah, but I would never do it unless you asked me to. And it’s not even something I need all the time. Just when I need it. You’re my wife, so I don’t want you thinking I don’t respect you. But there is this urge. Maybe one day you’ll feel safe enough to consider going dark with me, but you don’t have to. Making love to you is enough. More than enough. I just, sometimes would be fine with you being open. I wouldn’t force you, though.”

“So I’d have a choice?”

“Baby, of course you’d have a choice. If you don’t want to, we don’t.”

“Would it be something you’d be willing to walk me through?”

“If you’re considering it. I would make it good for you. The way I make what we’ve been doing for hours, good for you.”

Rubbing my nose against hers before leaning in for a kiss, she pulled away but not before asking, “Can I think about it?”

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