Page 92 of Coronation
“Stay still.” His tone has a bite of impatience to it now, and his hand comes down on me again, the other tightening on my hip to keep me steady. “Just a few more. You’re dripping down your thighs, don’t pretend you don’t love this.”
He’s right, I’m so turned on that arousal is overflowing from my overheated, swollen pussy, probably leaving a puddle on the sheets beneath me. I am so unspeakably turned on that I find myself arching my back, exposing myself to the man behind me.
My husband’s approving hiss makes my inner walls clench, and he smacks my wet sex yet again, hard enough that a ragged sob escapes my lips and the delicate skin tingles. “Ben, please,” I gasp. “I want you inside me.”
A dark chuckle answers my plea. “You’ve been a very good girl for me tonight. One more, then I’ll fuck my seed into you, alright, darling? Just one more.”
I find my head bobbing up and down, squirming against the weight of restless anticipation that has settled low in my pelvis. Ben’s thumb brushes a teasing, featherlight circle over my poor, throbbing clit.
My cry is almost loud enough to drown out the sound of a wet smack, and the muscles in my arms give out, sending me face-first into the mattress, ass in the air. I’ve barely started to recover when the crown of a thick cock is easing past the entrance of my well-used pussy.
“You took that so well for me,” Ben murmurs, leaning forward to kiss my back as he sets a slow, decadent pace. “I’ll be gentle now, darling. I know you’re swollen. You’ve made me so hard, it won’t take long.”
He slips a hand beneath me, and two fingers settle over my oversensitive bundle of nerves, circling it.
My hands curl to fist the sheets, as, somehow, another orgasm begins to build inside me. Ben keeps fucking me, our breathing growing choppy and uneven as the seconds pass. “That’s it,” he hisses, his thrusts beginning to falter. “Milk me dry.”
I let out a quiet, raspy moan. If my first orgasm was a tsunami, this one is a river. It’s not as intense, but somehow more powerful, dragging me along as it flows on and on. Behind me, Ben stills, abandoning my clit to grip my hips with shaking hands, sealing us together. Inside me, his huge cock swells, twitching as his cum coats my cervix.
We collapse onto the mattress together, me with a disbelieving little laugh, Ben with a low groan and muttered word of “Fuck.” His softening cock is still inside me as he wraps his strong arms around me, holding me close.
My heart is so full.
“I’ve done it,” Ben murmurs, pressing his lips to my shoulder.
My eyes are already closed, but I manage a lazy hum. “Done what?”
“Married the most perfect woman in existence. Darling, every time I think you can’t possibly turn me on more, you manage to do just that.”
I feel my face split in a smile as, behind me, I feel Ben brush my hair out of the way, kissing a place behind my ear. It’s strangely specific, and I giggle. “What are you doing?”
“Did you know you have a freckle?” he asks quietly, the low timbre of his voice traveling through his chest and into my back. “Just here.” Another kiss to the place.
Truthfully, I had no idea, but it spreads warmth through me at the facthedid. I yawn, shaking my head. “Mmm, no. Is this freckle special in some way?”
Ben’s answering laugh is silent, and I know I’m already halfway to sleep. “It’s on your skin. That’s quite enough for me, wife.”
Thirty-Nine
Zelda
“Okay, thank you, everyone, for coming.”
On my computer screen, the faces of my parents, sister, and two older brothers blink back at me, all five displaying various degrees of confusion. It’s not that I’m not close with my family, I am, but we’re also a bunch of busy overachievers who are wrapped up in our own lives. Ordinarily, we reconvene a few times a year to make sure our news alerts haven’t missed anything big, before trotting back to our respective, overworked existences.
My gathering everyone together for this video chat, which is several months before Dad’s birthday—our next customary occasion for a catch-up—definitely came with a lot of questions. In the interest ofnothaving the same conversation five times, however, I insisted they hold all of them until now.
Seated at the kitchen table in Fernmoor House, I glance over my computer screen at Ben, who is standing—shirtless and tousle-haired—at the kitchen counter, carefully adding ingredients to the blender for smoothies. Sunlight from thewindow glints off the gold band on his left ring finger, making my belly flip at the reminderI married that man.
Holy shit.
With difficulty, I return my attention to my family, whom I had the foresight to mute for the introductory portion of this meeting. “Okay. So,” I begin with a nervous laugh. “A few big pieces of information to cover here. None of this is public yet, but at least some of it will probably be out there in the next day or two, so I wanted to make sure you heard it from me first.”
Five mouths move at once but produce absolutely no noise.
This is actually fantastic, I’m going to insist all family meetings come with a mute button.
I tap my ear, offering all of them an apologetic grimace. “Sorry guys, I can’t hear any of you. Super weird. I’ll figure out how to fix it in a second. Anyway, first big piece of info.” I lift my hand, showing them my wedding and engagement rings. “I got married! Cool, right? I’m sorry you all weren’t there, it was a very last-minute, spontaneous thing. Spontaneous in agood way,not at all like the time Cal got a face tattoo. Anyway, it was very romantic, we’re both incredibly happy, and I’m so excited for you all to meet him!”
