Page 162 of Mila: The Godfather

Looking at her, completely at my mercy, drives me insane with need.

Then, I kiss her.

Long. Deep. Wet.

When her tongue tangles with mine as she slowly starts to heat up beneath me, I start to rock my hips back and forth. She’s wet.

Really wet.

So wet, in fact, that, with each rock of my hips, she covers my cock with more and more of her juices until I know that if I angle my hips just right and adjust my angle, my dick will slide right inside her with little resistance.

My wife must’ve had the same thought right around the same time, too, because between one thrust and the next, I went from outside of her hot pussy to inside.

She gasps, her mouth pressing against my throat. “Oh, wow.”

I pull out slightly, smiling, and sink back inside, just a little deeper this time than before.

“Fun fact about penises,” she murmurs. “Did you know that there is a thing such as a death erection?”

Without much thought, I pull out and then slam back in, taking every available inch of space inside of her and more. “There is?”

“Oh, wow!” she squeaked as she dug those nails in deeper. “Yes! It is also called angel lust or terminal erection. It happens moments after death.”

I did not know that.

I bend down and bite her shoulder, then pull back to lick the skin. “What made you look up fun facts about cocks, butterfly?” I ask while looking at her clit. Her pussy. How great she looks stretched around me.

She groans and lifts her feet to dig into my thighs. “I was just curious.”

I can’t think straight or focus on her facts now.

Her pussy is rippling around me, and her nipples are pebbled into hard little peaks that just beg for my attention. But I don’t move or change my angle because before the thought could even enter my mind to grab those perky nipples, her body starts to convulse around me.

My balls draw up at that thought, and before I can think better of it, I am coming.

It was perfection every time.

“You make me feel like a fucking king,” I whisper while biting her ear gently. I triumphantly smile when I feel her shiver in my arms. “Like I’m on top of the world.”

After are were both spent, we lie on top of the counter, covered in bread mix and flour, panting, and trying to catch our breaths.

“Do you think anyone heard us?” She whispers so softly I almost miss it.

I hope they did.

It might make me seem like a sick fuck, but I would love it if my men heard the sounds of pleasure coming from my wife. Heard all the dirty shit I did to her.

“Riagan?” she slaps her hand on my chest, catching my attention.

“Probably, baby. You were pretty fucking loud.” And hot. So fucking hot. I don’t tell her that.

Then my wife hides her face in my neck and groans with embarrassment, but not me.

I just laugh, hug her closer, and think to myself: how the fuck did I get so lucky?

Riagan’s Secret Thoughts

Why you?

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