60. Bronwyn

60

brONWYN

I moaned as he tugged my head down and crushed his lips to mine. I wanted him to be rough, wanted to feel every inch of my softness brutally mashed against that hard body: whatever would give my beautiful monster comfort. My chest was aching for him. Even though he was so much bigger than me, I felt protective, determined that no one was even going to cause him that sort of pain again.

I’d meant what I said. I knew everything now, there were no more secrets and nothing holding us apart. And I was proud to be his wife.

We kissed deep and hard, the roll of his lips and the darting of his tongue sending me tumbling down into a hot blackness so exquisite I didn’t want to come up to breathe.

I shifted position and my wet breasts rolled against his chest, making him groan. Between us, the layers of his suit and shirt were soaked through and I could feel the hard ridges of his abs stroking my stomach. Lower down, his cock was hardening, the shaft rising, the sopping fabric of his pants clinging to it as it pressed against my naked pussy.

The mood changed.

His big hands slid further down my back and grabbed my glistening ass, squeezing the cheeks and grinding me more firmly against his cock. My thighs slid either side of his legs and I felt my pussy lips open just a little, letting me feel the heat and slick wetness inside. I broke the kiss for a second to pant. He took my lower lip between his teeth, and I lost the capacity to think.

His hands went to my shoulders, then slid down the entire length of me to my ass, his strong fingers molding me to him. My wet skin was cooling, and I knew I should be getting cold. But I was lying on the world’s best heated bed, a deliciously contoured maleness that throbbed warmth up into me. And every time my back started to get cold, his big hands would slide all the way down it again, soaking heat into my skin and then squeezing my ass and sending a deeper heat trembling inwards to my core.

But he must have been worried about me because he suddenly scrambled up, lifting me with him, and set me down on my feet. Then he grabbed one of the thick white bathrobes that hung on the back of the bathroom door and pulled it onto me, dressing me like a doll. It was sized for a man, so it hung down over my hands and reached down past my knees. He pulled it closed around me, then picked me up and carried me in his arms to the bed.

I could feel the robe soaking all the water from my skin and when he dropped me on my back on the bed, I was mostly dry. The robe flopped open a little, revealing my bare legs, my bare pussy and a narrow slice of my upper body, just the sides of my breasts visible. I lay there with my hair a damp halo around my head, staring up at him. I felt...different. Dreamy and relaxed and hornier than I’d ever been. There was a connection that hadn’t been there before, a closeness that came from knowing the worst of him and the best of him. It was like a current that flowed between us: from the look in his eyes, he could feel it, too. He gazed down at me and, without words, began very slowly and deliberately undressing.

First his shining leather shoes and socks came off. Then he unbuckled his leather belt and pulled it through the belt loops.

I could feel my hand wandering. Without conscious thought, it moved down between my thighs.

His chest filled as he inhaled. He stared at my fingers as I began to tease my lips. Then he locked eyes with me and started to pop the buttons of his shirt one by one.

My fingertips stroked down the join of my lips and then glided back up, already sticky, and I caught my breath as I circled my clit. It was almost as if it was someone else doing it. I didn’t feel like I was teasing or performing, I was just responding to the look he was giving me, out of control.

He opened his soaked shirt and tugged it down his arms and off. I swallowed as those glorious, hard pecs came into view, shining wetly. My fingers traced down my lips again and I felt them part.

He unfastened his pants and let them fall. He stepped out of them and now I could see the jutting outline of his cock as it stretched out the fabric of his soaking, black jockey shorts. I inhaled, my breath trembling, my fingertips easing between my lips, feeling my wetness.

He stripped off the jockey shorts and stood naked. He took his cock in one hand and began to stroke the hard shaft, and even though I wanted to stare at the swelling, purple-pink head, I couldn’t look away from his eyes. We were joined, the two of us locked together in a feedback loop: what he was doing to me and what I was doing to him. The room fell silent, the only sound was our breathing and the slow movement of our hands. The tension built and built. I could feel my fingers getting wetter, could hear his breathing hitch as his cock strained in his hand?—

A breathy moan escaped me, and I shifted my feet on the bed, opening them just a little to give myself better access. That pushed him past breaking point. He grabbed a condom off the dresser and rolled it on as he marched towards the bed. He slid his hands between my thighs and shoved them roughly apart, sending the robe flying open and baring me. His gaze raked down my body and stopped on my pussy. He positioned himself, the head of his cock just breaching my entrance, and I gasped. Then he thrust up into me and I groaned and rolled my head back on the bed at the silken stretch of him, the hot throb of him inside me.

I lifted my knees just as he thrust again, sinking deeper, gliding on my wetness, and I bit my lip and thrashed my head. He pulled back and I grabbed at his shoulders, his arms, already aching for him. He slammed forward and this time buried himself completely inside me, little droplets of water shaking loose from his chest and tumbling down as his groin met mine. A wave of pleasure washed through me, leaving me gasping, and I trembled, my toes tapping the bed, heady at the feel of him so deep.

He lowered himself, taking his weight on his elbows, and cupped my breasts in his hands. My skin was super sensitive from the bath, and I caught my breath as he stroked me. Then he pressed my breasts together, dipped his head and licked across both my nipples, and I twisted and circled my hips, pushing my breasts up to meet him. Radimir groaned as my walls caressed his shaft. “ God! ” He looked down at me in wonder. I panted and did it again, a giggle escaping me, and his eyes widened.

It had never felt like this before. I felt happy and... free. Him opening up to me had changed everything. This is what it’s like, I realized, when you’re with someone you trust completely. I loved it. But a little part of me wondered if this meant we’d lost something, too, that dark edge of danger. I circled my hips one more time, teasing him?—

He mock-scowled, grabbed my wrists and pulled them up above my head, then trapped them there with one powerful hand. He shifted his body, using his muscled weight and Oh God, suddenly my hips were pinned to the bed, too, and I got that roller coaster drop of helplessness.

No. We hadn’t lost it.

With his free hand, he reached down and rolled my nipple between finger and thumb. He drew the stiffening bud up to hardness and then pinched with just the right amount of roughness. The pleasure expanded and turned silver-edged, and I moaned into his kiss, his lips spreading mine and his tongue plundering me. He didn’t give me a chance to recover: he began fucking me with long, hard strokes, rolling my breast in his hand and pinching my nipple on each thrust. The waves of pleasure began to come faster, a new one washing through me before the last one had drained away, and with his lips on mine I couldn’t gasp or moan, I had to kiss it out, my lips frantic on his, our tongues dancing. As the pleasure built, I tried pushing upwards just a little with my wrists and went heady when he didn’t let them lift at all.

He began to fondle and pinch my other breast, leaving the first one to bounce, super-sensitive, against his chest as he fucked me. His thrusts sped up, becoming fast, brutal pumps, and the pleasure expanded, a pink cloud that filled every inch of me, shot through with silver crackles of lightning every time he pinched my nipple. God, I’d never felt so ruthlessly taken: the weight of his body, holding me down, the hard fingers tight on my wrists, his girthy cock pistoning inside me and that brutal kiss, his stubble scraping me as his lips made me his. I had a sudden flash of what we must look like, with his muscled hips spreading my thighs apart and his tanned ass rising and falling between them. The pleasure tightened and heated, a scalding storm ready to explode.

He broke the kiss for a moment. Licked at my aching, straining nipples. “You drive me insane,” he told me in a throaty, Russian growl. “I’m never going to stop fucking you.”

I was getting close and the words pushed me closer still. The feeling that he was right at the edge of control, and that it was me that was doing that to him...it made me buck my hips, grinding my pelvis up to meet him on every thrust. The waves of pleasure were slamming through me, now, filling me faster than I could control. I felt myself start to tremble?—

“Come for me,” he said. “Let me feel you go crazy around me. Wife.”

My legs came up and scissored around his ass, pulling him into me, and then I arched my back and began to spasm around him. He gave two more hard thrusts and then buried himself, kissing me deep as he came in long, shuddering streams inside me.