Page 217 of Mangled Memory
He stops. The fucker stops and peeks his head up from my legs. “How many times do you want to come, Ayla?”
What the hell? I want to explode, not discuss.
“No chatting. More licking. More sucking.” I hope my eyes communicate the fire that is close to combusting in my core.
He laughs and warm air pulsing against my core is a tease when I need relief. His warm tongue barely enters me and flicks. And he hums.
It’s so good. And I’m close, but this isn’t cutting it. “Are you torturing me? Is this fun for you?” I use every bit of upper body strength and slide away from his mouth, but I only make it as far as he allows.
He flips me over, face down on the bed and butterflies me wide. He slides over my body on all fours, hands bracketing my shoulders as his hips press his impressive erection to slide between my ass cheeks. His words come from very close to my ear when he says, “Wife, eating you and fucking you is the best thing in my life. It is fun. It is delicious. It is everything. Trustme, I will make this so good for you, that you’ll wonder how you lived without it for three months.”
Fingers play lazily down my right side, near my breast, over an ass cheek and under my hip. I lift in desperate invitation.
“You want control, baby? Come ride my face. Take what you want.”
He slides off me and lays flat on the bed, extending a hand, offering me the option. His black eyes bore into me, the brown irises dissolved by his dilated pupils.
Hell, yes, I want control. I scramble to all fours, pinning him as he did to me, but I present a breast to him that he greedily takes to suck, all the while using his hands to torture me.
“Up. I need another taste. I’ll never get enough of your sweet, sweet pussy.”
I crawl over him, and he settles in dropping his shoulders over my calves to pin me in place.
“What happened to me being in control?”
“Our bed. Our sex life. I’malwaysthe top, Ayla.” He pulls me to his mouth, his fingers digging into my ass cheeks and feasts while I slide back and forth, seeking and finally, finally finding.
When I’m close, I fall to my hands, on all fours. “So close, Honey. Please don’t stop. Please.”
Three things happen at once. None of which I’m prepared for. A thumb enters my ass, and fingers enter my pussy. He sucks so hard on my clit it borders on pain, and I shatter. Hard.
Stars hit my eyelids, and I can’t hold myself up as wave after wave pours through my core, extending out in bliss so primal, I wonder what I did before I met him.
He flips me onto my back, his mouth still on my clit and teeth rake down me again, extending the orgasm or cueing a second.
He laps. He hums. He scrapes. He sucks.
And I thrash like my body can no longer contain the ecstasy.
Fingers leave my body, and the unmistakable purr of a zipper makes me smile. My legs are held wide by his elbows, and the heat of his cock nudges my entrance.
“Open your eyes, Ayla.”
I do and holding his searing gaze, he presses into me in a deep thrust until I can take no more from him. Fuck. I was lying before.Thisis ecstasy.
“That might be my favorite thing in the world. Your face when you take me. It’s burned on my brain.”
He’s so long and hot, I feel branded from the inside with his long deep strokes. It’s the best sex I’ve ever had, and it’s just begun.
As another orgasm builds, I expect Christian to speed up. He’s dominating, controlling, and obviously knows what to do with his cock.
Instead, about the moment I want to reach for the edge, he plants himself, rocking in place, and drops his forehead to mine. His eyes shine. “I missed this. Missed you. It’s been hell to be near you but not be able to touch you, to taste you, to fill you. Hearing you come, seeing you take me, the smell of us together. I… I needed this.” His words are whisper quiet.
His eyes close, and he ruts as if trying to get closer.
“Christian?” His face pinches like pain fills his mind or body.
“Honey, let my knees go.”
