Page 19 of CurVy Baby

The sensation is electricity to my system, being used with utter disregard, stuffed and emptied, crushed beneath his weight, boiled from his radiant need.

I take everything he has to give me, everything he needs to work out, until my pussy swells with blood, spasming around him as I come.

He hisses.

“No.” The word punctures the air as he loses rhythm to his own climax. “I want the other hole, too. In case he was there. I need them all today.” He pulls out of me abruptly, my pussy closing around nothing, immediately swelling and sore. I moan, knowing what he is going to do.

The room is smaller.

The air thicker.

My mind hazy.

Vision a blur.

He grips the backs of my thighs and pushes them into my stomach, folding me.

“Arse open for me.” His cock is dripping with my pussy juices when he slides into my arsehole and pumps. “Fuckingtight…Goddamn.”

I am experienced in anal now, able to relax. His rhythm is slower and precise as he glares at his cock entering me. “Now all your holes remember me. Your husband.”

AndGod, he just keeps going.

“Who are you, Pup?”

“Your wife,” I gasp.

Minutes, hours—I don’t know—he fucks my arse, stopping before he can come, only to keep going. He doesn’t speak to me again.

Heusesme.

I let him. Unravel him. Love him. Come home to him, always. I am closing my eyes, blacking out, when I feel his cock thicken, somehow swelling within my rim of muscles.

I blink, barely awake, utterly drained, but I want to see his release. As he drops his head back and unloads, he growls with relief, his hot breath mixing with the steamy air.

Leaving me breathless to behold such powerful energy, I close my eyes and moan with helpless abandon, losing consciousness to the moment.

Gripping my flesh harder, he keeps coming until it floods me, spilling around his shaft.

He slows his thrusts, gasping.

I don’t know what happens next…

CHAPTER EIGHT

TYLER

I untie her wrists.

“Vallie Baby?” I whisper by her ear, trying to wake her up as I drag my mouth down the slick skin of her neck. Her heart shutters away beneath my tongue.

A fluttering note.

I close my eyes and hum, peppering her with gentle kisses. I missed her. She was gone all night, part of the morning, eighteen hours, twenty-one minutes, twenty-four sonatas, thirty minutes sleep, and zero orgasms.

My fingers ache from working the ivories while she was gone, but it made the time pass, made it disappear into ribbons that rushed into the forest.

When I open my eyes at her throat, I see bruising—a hickey. Donnie must have left this here for me, so I frown. That’s not his. I don’t need a message in her skin.

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