Page 53 of Brutal Union
"I should shower," I say, setting down my coffee. "I'm a mess."
"My mess," he corrects, moving around the island toward me. "My perfect, filthy mess. And I'm not done making you messier."
"Marco…"
But he's already lifting me onto the counter, spreading my legs wide. The marble is cold against my ass, making me gasp. He steps between my legs, and I can feel the heat of him even through his pants.
"Just a taste," he murmurs, dropping to his knees. "Need to taste what we made together."
His mouth is on my pussy before I can protest, his tongue lapping at the mixture of our cum that's leaked out. The sensation on my already sensitive flesh makes me cry out, my hands flying to his hair. He groans against me, the vibration making my clit throb.
"So fucking sweet," he says between licks. "You taste like mine. Like I marked you inside and out."
He slides two fingers into me, curling them just right, and I'm embarrassed by how quickly I'm climbing toward orgasm. Everything is oversensitive, overwrought, but my body doesn't care. It wants more, always more of him.
"That's it," he encourages when I start to shake. "Come on my tongue. Add to the mess. Show me how much you need this."
When I come, it's with a sob that echoes through the kitchen, my pussy clenching around his fingers as waves of too-much pleasure crash through me. He works me through it, gentle but relentless, until I'm pushing at his shoulders.
"Shower," I gasp. "Please. I need…"
"I know what you need." He stands, licking his lips obscenely. "Come."
The bathroom is all marble and glass, steam already starting to fill the space as he adjusts the water. I watch him push down his pajama pants, his cock springing free, hard and ready. A drop of precum beads at the tip, and I have the insane urge to drop to my knees right here and taste him.
"Later," he says, reading my expression. "Right now, I need to be inside you."
He pulls me under the hot spray, and immediately his hands are on me, possessive and demanding. The water sluices over us as he backs me against the shower wall, the cool tile making my nipples harden.
"Turn around," he commands, and I obey without thinking, pressing my palms against the glass.
His hands slide down my spine, over the curve of my ass, then between my legs. "Still so wet," he growls, sliding two fingers into my pussy without warning. I gasp at the intrusion, still sore but desperately wanting more. "Still stretched from taking my cock all night."
He pumps his fingers slowly, his thumb finding my clit. "You're going to feel my fingers first," he says against my ear. "Then come on my cock. I want you to remember this every time you move today. Want you feeling me with every step."
His fingers curl inside me, and my knees buckle. The wall is the only thing keeping me upright as he works me. His other hand comes around to pinch my nipple, rolling it between his fingers until the pleasure borders on pain.
"That's it," he murmurs when I start to shake. "I can feel your pussy clenching. So desperate to come already. Such a good girl, taking whatever I give you."
Before I can recover react, he spins me around, lifting me easily. I wrap my legs around his waist as he presses me against the wall, and I can feel his cock at my entrance, thick and insistent.
"Please," I beg, past any pretense of dignity. "Yes, now."
"Tell me exactly what you want," he demands, the head of his cock barely pushing inside, teasing me with what I need.
"I want you," I gasp, trying to sink down onto him but his hands on my hips hold me still. "Not just your body. All of you. Now."
With one smooth thrust, he buries himself completely. We both groan at the sensation. Him at the tight, wet heat gripping his cock, me at the perfect fullness of being stretched around him.
This is different from last night's desperate fucking. Slower, deeper, his eyes locked on mine as he moves inside me with devastating control. Each thrust deliberate, measured, the headof his cock dragging against that spot inside me that makes me see stars. The water streams over us as he makes love to me. Because that's what this is, even if neither of us will say the word.
I frame his face with my hands, water droplets clinging to my fingers. "My husband."
The possessive declaration makes him thrust deeper, harder, but still careful with me in a way that makes my chest ache. When I come this time, it's with a soft cry that builds into something wilder, my pussy clenching rhythmically around his cock.
"Fuck," he groans, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Your pussy feels so fucking good when you come."
He comes with my name on his lips, his cock pulsing inside me as he fills me with hot spurts of cum. The look on his face has me whimpering against his neck.
