Page 49 of Scary In Love
The recording mimics a traditional ceremony, though the words fade to nothing because she consumes my senses.
All I can see is her, all I can taste is her, and all I can hear is my heartbeat chanting her name as blood crashes through my veins.
When the recording asks us to make our vows in the repeat-after-me style, her eyes widen.
“Is this real?” she whispers.
I shake my head, but when she says the words, I almost wish they were. My vows feel genuine, promises I’d gladly keep until death do us part, and long after that.
The rest of the ceremony is a blur, but I hear the last line loud and clear. “You may now kiss the bride.”
Drawing her into my arms, she throws hers around my neck, and I get back to doing my new favourite thing. Kissing Jenna Miller.
Sorry, Laing.
Our tongues swirl in a kiss so erotic we’d never be able to do it in front of witnesses. Her bouquet tumbles to the floor, hands clutching at my suit jacket while mine grab fistfuls of her ass and pull her closer.
I run them up and down her back, weave them into her hair and tug hard enough to make her gasp. Her eyes are so bright and full I can see my own staring straight back at me.
“What now?” she whispers.
“Now you kneel for your husband.”
While I’m focused on a partner’s pleasure, I’m not even remotely thinking about mine. Those needs don’t matter, and I don’t let them get in the way of meeting all of hers. Sometimes that means I’m hard for hours, sometimes I don’t come at all.
Pushing through the discomfort takes me to a headspace that makes the eventual orgasm even better. I can wait a long time for my turn, but I might have been waiting for Jenna longer than I ever knew. My cock is desperate for her.
I need her.
Now.
Jenna drops to her knees, her back straight and hands folded in her lap.
My goddamn perfect obedient little wife.
“Take me out,” I tell her. “Slowly.”
She looks up at me, a flicker of darkness beneath her sweet smile, as she tugs my shirt loose and my zip down. Her fingers hook into my waistband, and she drags everything to my feet, her head jerking back when my cock springs free.
Watching her see it for the first time is a fucking rush, especially when she licks her lips and leans in, but then she catches herself. She sweeps her hair and her veil away from her shoulders and holds her hands behind her back. Then she looks up at me, opens her mouth, and pushes her tongue out as far as it will go.
Stepping closer, I give my length a hard squeeze, and rest it on the tip of her waiting tongue.
“Don’t move. I need a second to make sure I never forget this view.” She stays perfectly still, eyes locked with mine. “You’re so beautiful, Jenna. My perfect wife. Perfect whore.”
Her lids flutter at my praise, and I buck my hips just enough to slide in another inch.
“Perfect mouth. Perfect skin. Perfect cunt.”
She moans from the back of her throat, and her own hips twitch. I love how hungry she is, even after everything I’ve put her through.
“I want every part of you. Not just tonight.”
I stroke the back of her head, then slowly push it down. She wraps her lips around me and breathes through it. I keep going until I can feel her throat tightening around my tip.
When I release her, she gasps for air, sticking her tongue out and waiting for me to guide it back in.
My good fucking girl.
