Big Girls Do It Married (19 page)

I felt an upwelling of love, a roaring inferno of passion for this man, even as he tortured me with sweet, ecstatic pleasure. His lips moved against my clavicle, touched my throat, gentle as a thought, slid stuttering slickly down my breastbone to kiss the heaped flesh of one breast, the right, and then the other. His cock bobbed against my belly, so close but so far; I strained downward against the handcuffs, seeking to get him inside me. He moved with me, though, kissing my breast inch by inch, only the exposed flesh. I waited for him to pull the cup down and begin the slow tease of my nipple.

After an agony of minutes spent kissing my breasts as if he'd never touched them before, never tasted them before, he finally tugged one cup down enough to let a nipple pop free. He kissed his way toward it, and I found myself holding my breath as he circled the hard-standing bead of nerves with his tongue.
 

He teased it with gentle nips of his teeth, light flicks of his tongue, moist pinches with his lips, and then, without warning, he bit the nipple hard enough to make me buck up off the bed with a squeal.
 

"Too hard?" Even teasing he couldn't help worrying about hurting me.

I shook my head, then realized he couldn't see me. "No," I gasped, "just...shocked me. Any harder would be too hard."

He didn't answer, went back to flicking my nipple with his tongue, licking in a rhythm that set my hips undulating. His fingers met my clit on my hips' up thrust, and I gasped at the sudden pressure, sudden burst of intense pleasure. As quick as the full thrust of his fingers against me appeared, it vanished again just as fast.
 

"No, Jeff, please, bring it back..."

For once he did as I asked, sliding his fingers along my belly to cup my pussy, a molasses-slow molding against my folds. His middle finger moved inexorably inward, slipping under the panties to dive inside me, the first full penetration.
 

I moaned, a long, throaty voicing of relief. He added his ring finger, and then moved them together deeper inside me until his pinky and index finger were splayed on either side of my labia. He swiped in, curled in, brushed the rough patch of my G-spot, and this time I shrieked aloud.

My hips were writhing as alive, bucking and gyrating, a silent plea to keep stroking me, keep going, don't stop. His fingers moved inside me, pushing the waves of climax higher and higher, until the waves were on the verge of breaking within me.

"Are you about to come, baby?" Jeff's voice spoke from between my legs, his breath huffing on my thigh. "Are you so close?"

I knew, even in my desperation, if I told him I was mere moments from coming, he'd stop.
 

"No?" My voice was a breathy squeak, and my hips gave the lie.

His fingers went still inside me, but didn't withdraw. "Oh, I think you are. I can hear it in your voice. Your pussy is so tight around my fingers, and the way you move against me? Yeah, you're close. I bet if I licked your clit, just once, you'd come
so fucking
hard, wouldn't you, baby?"

I couldn't help the answer ripping from my lips. "Yes! Please, give it to me, Jeff."

His tongue swiped next to my labia, one side and then other, stroked in beneath my clit, licked just above it. I undulated against him, dying to feel the wet heat of his tongue against my clit, desperate for climax.

The waves of orgasm floated away, lessened and shrank, and then, right then, he flicked the button of my clit with his tongue, just once, bringing me back the edge. But then his mouth swept upward along my belly to kiss my cheekbone, my forehead, my chin, my lips, exploring my face as his hands skimmed over my skin, over the lace of the bustier beneath my breasts.
 

He pushed his hands beneath my back, and I lifted up to let him touch me, anywhere and everywhere. He followed the line of clasps along my spine, exploring the catches. I rolled to my side, my arms twisted unnaturally. He unhooked the uppermost clasp, then the next, and his lips pressed burning kisses to my skin where it was exposed by the widening gap between the edges of the bustier. With each released eyelet, my breasts gained weight.
 

With each kiss to my skin, the velvet blindfold brushed my skin, soft and cold against the heat of my skin. I'd forgotten for a moment he was doing all this by touch alone. He knew my body so intimately, was so familiar with my every curve that he could explore me blindfolded, kiss my face and unerringly find my breast from mere memory. I imagined I was him for a moment, smelling the scent of my soap and the light dusting of perfume, silky skin beneath his lips, flesh firm in his hands.
 

The way he worshipped me told me I was beautiful. The loving and delicate way he kissed my flesh told me how desperately he desired me. The slight tremble of hands on my back as he released the final clasp to free my breasts told me how much he wanted to forget the game and ravage me hard and fast with primal fury. The fact that he continued to move with aching, tender slowness told me he cherished each salty touch of skin to his lips, each gasp elicited from my lips.
 

He hadn't said the words "I love you" since he handcuffed me to the bed and began his blind mapping of my body. He didn't need to; the feather-soft grazing of his fingers across my skin spoke the words for him, the gentle crush of his lips to my breast made the words clear to me, the effortless strength with which he lifted my body to strip off my panties showed me how much he loved me.

I stopped fighting, stopped wishing for climax, and closed my eyes, lay back in the bed and let him love me, as slow as he wanted. This wasn't about any kind of chemical orgasm any longer. This was pure adoration made physical. I was finally naked beneath him, my bare breasts cupped in his hands and lifted to his lips to kiss and taste and touch, my nipples sucked into his mouth and drawn taut, bringing fire rushing to my loins and bursting through me, a shuddering precursor of the earthquake to come.

He slid up my skin, the soft, leaking head of his cock stuttering along the inside of my thigh, bumping against my entrance. I held my breath, straining helplessly against the bonds restraining me from touching him. I wanted to hold him, needing to feel his firm flesh under my hands, but I couldn't. All I could do was lie tensed and coiled for the moment of his body's slide into mine. I drew my knees up, and my shoulders lifted off the bed as I sought to curl closer around him.
 

His lips caressed my breast, first the right, then the left, brushing underneath each one, carving around the sides, coming to a stop on my nipple. All the while his hands were cupping my hips and dipping between my thighs to tease me with a quick finger slipping in between my slick lips before retreating and tricking my clit with a circling tip. I gasped and whimpered, sounds brought forth from me without volition, my entire body now writhing against him, begging him to move inside me.

"Jeff, please, I'm begging you, please let me feel you inside me. I need it. I want it so bad. I need your cock inside me. Please!"

He sucked my lip into his mouth, silencing me, stroking my pussy with his fingers, drawing me toward the cliff of orgasm. His thick, hard cock was probing my entrance just beneath his hands, and now he braced himself above me, his broad, essence-slick head touching my clit, sending me into paroxysms of need.

"Beg me again, baby," Jeff whispered.

I wrapped my legs around him, struggled to pull him closer, but he resisted me, held himself in place. "Please, Jeff! Give it to me. I want to feel you inside me."

"Tell me more. Tell me exactly what you want," he said. "I love hearing you talk dirty to me."

"Yeah? You want me to tell you how bad I want your cock?" I gave myself over to his game. "I want it, baby. I want your cock. I need you to slip it into my pussy. I don't care if you go slow or fast, I just need to feel your big, hard cock fill me."

Jeff moaned, a low growl against my skin. He pulsed his hips, pushing his cock against my clit, and I gasped in pleasure as an electric thrill zapped through me. He did it again, and I crushed my pussy against him, moving with furious desperation.
 

"You want it inside you?" he asked. "Right now?"

"Yes! Please, yes!"

He kissed me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth at the same time as he drove his cock into me. "Like that?"

I let myself scream out loud. "Yes! Oh, god, Jeff, thank you...god!"

He buried himself to the hilt and held there, filling me but not moving. His teeth grazed my nipple, and I knew if he had thrust as he bit me I would have come, but he didn't. He held himself motionless, deep inside me. This was a new kind of torture. I was filled by him, but if he didn't move I wouldn't find the release I needed. He spent sweet, slow moments kissing my breasts, toying with my nipples, licking them in a quick rhythm to mock the motion I wanted his hips to make.

His body covered mine, his weight pressed down on me in the intimate crush of hard male angles on soft female curves. I moved, wiggled, writhed, not just for the glide in and slip out but to feel his skin against mine, to feel his knees inside my thighs, his chest against my breasts, his belly flat against mine. I moved against him only to feel the merge of flesh with flesh, the flutter of hearts beating in sync, the sinfully sweet slip of skin slick with sweat, sliding silk in the searing susurrus of sex. The words naming this union ceased to matter. This was sex, this was love, this was primal fucking and intimate lovemaking, this was the baring of self to self, mind to mind, heart to heart.
 

I heard no sound but his breathing, each inbreath my name whispered on his quivering lips. He moved then, as he spoke my name.
 

"Anna," and his manhood slid out of my sex, paused at the slick opening, his lips met mine in a soft, sugar-sweet kiss, and he moved into me, slower than the glacial slide of ice down mountains.

I didn't dare breathe, didn't dare so much as flutter an eyelid, held still so the only motion was the beating of my heart and the pumping of blood in my veins. Statue-still, stone-still. His shaft pushing into my desire-damp blossom was the slowest pulsing of a drifting wind, a gliding of silk on skin, a gradual infilling of my body with his. I gasped as he pushed into me, wept his name as he slid back out, whimpered in delight with the feel of his thickness slicking into my heat.
 

I jerked against the chains, tears dripping down my cheeks, seeking to curl closer, cling tighter, keep him in me, pull him faster. He kept the slowest motion possible, sliding into me like mercury merging, splitting apart and rejoining. He moved with the speed of continents spreading apart, a dozen heartbeats passing between the time of his tip drifting in and his hips bumping mine. I continued to weep, unabashed, feeling climax rise in me, a flood of release pooling like an ocean of potential energy poised on the brink of flash flooding into kinetic rush.
 

He didn't stop, now. He moved, slid, slipped. He kissed my tears and whispered my name, held my curves close, poured his love into me without words. My feet hooked around his waist, held him inside me. I clamped down with my inner muscles, desperate to keep him deep. He groaned when my vaginal walls clutched his cock, holding him tight. Move and breathe, pulse and pull. The push and pull of lungs filling and releasing, the pump of our hearts spreading lifeblood, these mirrored the sliding of his body into mine, the perfect merge of body into body.

Time slowed, stopped. His face buried into my neck, my breasts crushed up into his chest and my hips crashed against his and we came, we came, bursting together like a storm breaking on the shore, like waves splashing on the sand.
 

I shattered beneath him, broke apart under his body. I felt him fill me, each thrust of his cock into my throbbing channel like heartbeat, felt the jet of wet heat hit my walls, and then he thrust again and the wash of seed spread through me again, and my inner muscles clenched his shaft, lights bursting behind my tight-closed eyes, fire blossoming in my every fiber. I couldn't breathe for the detonation of my body, couldn't help but scream and weep and call his name, gasp his name, plead his name. Still he moved, slow and deliberate. His pace never changed, even as he came, even when I climaxed underneath him.
 

His hands cupped my face and we kissed, trembling lips on lips, love passing between like shared breath. I felt him push the blindfold down at last to dangle from his neck, and our eyes met, sparks flying, tears sliding down faces. He wept, too, and I kissed his cheeks, tasted salt.

He snatched the key from the bedside table and unlocked my wrists, the cuffs dangling free. I snaked my arms around his neck and crushed my mouth to his, freedom lending me renewed passion.
 

Time faded as we lay side by side, breathing, kissing, holding each other. I felt his manhood stir and gathered him in my hands, caressed him into hardness, sat astride him. He reached up and closed a cuff around his wrist, and I did the same to the other side, and then we were bound together, fingers tangled, hands sliding along bodies. My fingers traced my hips as he touched me. Together we grasped his shaft and guided him into me, and then he lay back and I supported my weight on his hands, fingers twined, my hips undulating on him. He stared up at me, the purple blindfold a swath of darkness against his tanned skin.
 

Motion became liquid, no longer in and out or up and down but wave crashing into wave. I gave into desperation, collapsed on top of him and rode him like a runaway stallion, fast and furious, my hair draped around my face and sticking to my sweat-damp cheeks and forehead, plunging my love-mad hips on his as hard as possible, crashing with bruising force.
 

Orgasm was a nuclear explosion mushrooming within us in tandem. I felt him splash his seed into me as I burst above him, around him. Again and again we came together. I felt him come, but his cock throbbed hard inside me and I continued to move on him, riding him, and then I felt him impossibly hard and huge and coming again.