Page 146 of Chosen Road

His hand around my throat, his low voice in my ear, taking what he wanted, giving what I needed.

I stood still, my legs spread, his palm resting on the inside of my thigh, his thumb barely brushing against my clit. I resisted the urge to shift my hips, to rub against his hand.

“Good girl,” he murmured against my mouth. He licked the seam of my lips and though my breath quickened, I remained still. “Yes, sweet baby,” he praised, his voice ragged.

He tugged my panties down to bind around my thighs and ran his finger along the edge where they dug into my flesh. “I want to see you marked.”

He slid his palm over my mons, and stroked me lightly, too lightly.

I groaned and he chuckled. I arched my neck back, pressing my head against the wall.

He stood tall and leaned in, sealing his mouth to mine, caressing the inside of my mouth with his tongue. I opened to him, offering my mouth and my tongue.

He circled my clit roughly and I gasped, my eyes flying open.

“That’s right.” He smirked cockily. “Eyes on me.”

He was back.

My glorious husband was back, his touch sure, his hands by turns rough and gentle. He made me climax all over his hand before whipping my dress over my head and pushing me to my knees. He thrust inside my mouth.

“You don’t suck. You don’t stroke. You don’t do anything but keep your pretty lips clamped around me.”

He carefully plucked the pins from my hair, releasing the strands, one by one, his cock pulsing in my mouth, the urge to suck him relentless, the desire to come building once more. My eyes rolled back, and I closed them, my tongue quivering with restraint.

With the last clip removed, he pulled from my mouth and helped me to my feet. Nodding toward the bed, he ordered, “Hands and knees, back arched.”

I quickly got into position, and he crawled onto the bed behind me. Sliding his erection inside me, he stilled, then stroked his hands up and down my spine, smoothed his palms over my rounded hips, grasped my ass and squeezed it firmly.

My pussy fluttered around him, and his hips jerked.

I tightened again and earned the sharp crack of his open palm against my ass.

“You think I can’t tell the difference when that flutter is voluntary? Don’t move means don’t move anything.”

For five long minutes he kept me suspended, his cock pulsing inside me, my arousal soaking my thighs until they began to quake.

“There we go,” he murmured, as he withdrew then plunged deep inside me, his strokes long and controlled, the pleasure near overwhelming.

My body tensed to stave off my impending orgasm, and Gus yanked me up so that my back aligned with his front.

Reaching down, he tweaked my clit, and my head fell back on his shoulder.

“You have to let me come,” I gasped out.

“I don’t have to do anything,” he murmured back.

“Please, Gus,” I whimpered, allowing my head to fall forward.

“That’s so pretty when you beg.” He slid his teeth along the curve of my neck and brushed his calloused fingertips over my clit.

I began to pant. My womb tightened, my muscles tensed, and my husband groaned low in his throat.

He picked up his pace, tweaked my clit, and growled in my ear, “Let go.”

I relaxed and gave myself over to his will.

One hand pressed against my womb, the other wrapped around my throat, he slowly, methodically, fucked me until I clamped down on him, digging my nails into his arm, my mouth open in a silent scream as my back bowed and the pleasure rushed out to my limbs.

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