Page 171 of On Cloud Nine

“Fuck,” I shout at the unexpected fullness. Cold and heat mix together. My breath becomes ragged as I lean forward and steady myself on my palms on the icy ground.

“I’ll ask you again.” He leans over me, and his minty breath caresses my earlobe. “Is this wet cunt all for me?”

I mewl under his calculated strokes, until his movements still and he retreats from me.

“Use your words.”

“Yes. Every inch of me is yours.”

This time, he presses on my clit and creates slow circles with two of his fingers.His free hand gathers my hair and gently tugs, pulling my head back. “How much do you want my cock, Molly?”

“So much.” I let out a beastly groan.

He counters with a menacing laugh, his fingers not breaking pace on my clit. I struggle to keep myself steady on my hands and knees. I rock back against him and gasp for air.

My socks are completely drenched.

The cold earth penetrates my senses.

Fear mixes with excitement. Snowflakes blur together as I lose myself in the dark pleasure of his touch.

“That’s too bad,” Matthew says, letting go of my hair and landing a searing palm against my ass. The sting hurts so good. “You ran away from me, and only good girls get to be filled to the brim.”

“Please,” I plead.

I’m delirious, caught in a dream.

“Keep begging, beautiful.”

“Matthew, please.” My wetness overtakes the sound of my heavy breaths and Matthew’s heaving. “Please.”

“Louder.” Matthew leans over me again. His hand makes a path from my ass to my stomach until he’s clutching my breasts under my sweater. A mix of pain and pleasure shoots through me every time he pinches my nipples.

The motions on my clit stop, and his fingers slip back into me. He pumps them exactly how I like it.

“P-please.” The trees shake beneath my amorous screams.

“I can’t fucking hear you, darling.” Matthew abandons the tender skin of my breasts. His hands are in my hair again. He yanks at the strands, forcing me off of my palms. I do my best to balance on my knees as he keeps fingering me.

“Give me all of you,” I yell with everything I have. I’m possessed. Euphoric and wild as the orgasm starts to crest my spine. Everything is out of my control, and I love it. “Please, please, please.”

“Good girl.” He nips at my ear, and I groan.

“Matthew, don’t stop,” I cry.

What am I begging for? Release? Conquering? Wanting him to shatter me?

“My sweet wife, all dirty in the snow. What am I going to do with you?” he growls.

“Matthew!” I choke on another scream. The inevitable fall of my climax begins to blur my vision. My husband connects his lips with the back of my neck, his teeth dragging along the sensitive skin.

“You’re so pretty when you beg for the release only I can give you.”

“Yes.” My knees spread wider into the ground as I rock against his fingers. “Yes. Only. You.”

My scalp burns from his firm grip around my hair. I moan on the brink of oblivion.

“There she is.” His teeth sink into the nook of my neck. He bites hard, and I yell. Spots attack my vision. This must be nirvana. When my orgasm stops, his lips caress the bite mark he left on me. “Christ, Molly, you’re fucking dripping for me.”

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