Page 42 of Merciful Lies

The past six months I dreamed of this, of him, but the reality is so much better. Nico isn’t some silent participant. He doesn’t just take his pleasure and leave me wanting.

No, he talks. And he touches. He commands. And he moans. He owns me with his body. And I don’t think there is anything sexier than when he’s telling me how hard he is for me.

“Feel my dick? I’m so hard and ready. All for you, Rosebud. Christ, I was dying here without you.”

I gasp as he takes my hand and forces it onto his thick shaft. I squeeze it. Moaning at both the feel of his dick in my hand, and the loss of his fingers as he pulls them from my aching pussy.

“Show me how much you want me, Wife. Suck my dick with your hot little slit.”

Nico plops me down on the stool and reaches between us. And that’s when I feel it.

When I feel him.

The big, broad head of his thick cock presses against my entrance, and I moan long and loud at the sudden invasion.

“Take it, Rosebud. Take me,” he groans and wraps one hand around my throat.

That act alone is enough to make my pussy clench. The fact he’s filling me just makes it that much better.

He’s so big. So strong. And he is everywhere.

Touching me. Kissing me. Praising me for taking him so deep.

“Jesus Christ. You feel so fucking good. That’s it, Good Girl,” he grits out when my pussy spasms, squeezing him tightly.

“Nico,” I whimper, needing him to move.

“This pussy was made for me, Rosebud. It’s fucking mine. Tell me.”

“Yours, Nico. All yours. Please.”

I should be embarrassed by my reaction to him, by how quickly I turn into a submissive, needy, whiny little thing.

But that’s just it.

I’m not embarrassed by my need for him. I feel empowered by it. I feel sexy and wanton. And for the first time in my life, I feel desired.

My breasts are squashed against his chest. And I wrap my legs around him tighter. I cling to him, loving the delicious friction he’s creating between our bodies, but needing more.

His mouth licks into mine, and he’s so hot. Spicy and sweet. He doesn’t let me up for air. He just kisses me, and kisses me, his thick dick twitching inside my channel. But he’s so still. And it’s driving me mad.

I’m close. One touch, one flex of his hips, and I’ll explode.

My fingers try to hold on to his huge shoulders, but his muscles are flexing beneath my hands, slippery with water, making it impossible for me to maintain my grip.

I try to rock my hips, but he holds me still. Kisses me the whole while. But not letting me move.

“You taste like fucking cherries. And sunshine. Goddam delicious.”

I whimper. He slides his hand between us. I feel his thumb press against my swollen clit, and I moan.

It’s agonizing.

It’s amazing.

He circles it slowly, building my pleasure, but all I want is for him to move that big dick inside me. But he won’t. And I might just fucking hate him for that.

“Such a good wife. So needy for me. Come on, Wife. Tell me what you need.”

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