Page 29 of Cillian

“Mmm.” He moaned into my lips, showing how much he enjoyed being there. “I’m gonna work you up. But you can't come yet. I just wanted to taste you when you’re covered in me.” He bragged again, before sitting up, cradled up against me, his chest against my back.

“Shit, I love this tight, little fucking pussy. I need it to come on my cock,” he groaned, his hitched breaths feral as he teased me until my legs spread wider for him. Cillian took that as a sign that I was close, mounted me, then proceeded to flip me over so that I was on top of him.

“This feel good, baby?”

“Mmmm…”

“You gonna come like a little whore for me?” His words surprising, though not maliciously spoken.

“Is that what you want me to be?” I asked him through a kiss.

“I want you to want to be. Especially if it's just for me.” It was the way he ended with for me that made it sound less degrading. What was wrong with being a little bad when it was only for him? Seemed that was what men sought out anyway.

They convince themselves they didn't, but given how many of the male members in my family had been unfaithful, they're always attracted to women sexually available to them. This man was my husband, he wasn't just some stranger to me anymore.

He was my protection. My knight. The darkness I never got to reveal inside myself until him. If he wanted me to be his whore, I could give him what he wanted, so long as he continued to make me feel this damn good.

“Yes,” I cried.

“I want to hear you say it. Tell me you're gonna come like a little whore for me.”

“Mmm…” I murmured, my body succumbing to pleasure as I rode him to my best ability, letting him take the lead as he thrusted ferociously from below.

“I'm gonna come like a little whore for you,” I whispered, as he surprised me when he grabbed my neck, our collective panting and thrusts bringing us both into another release.

Perhaps he was used to this kind of thing, but physically I was spent. All I had was the energy to just lay on his chest, melting into him as I leaned in for a kiss.

“You're so perfect, Queenie. So fucking perfect,” He whispered low amidst kisses, and somehow, someway, we managed to fit into the curve of each other's angles and find peace within our flaws.

Thirteen

Cillian

“Arch your back, baby. Arch your back,” I issued a low command as I positioned her body in just the right way to receive a good morning pounding. “Mmm…look at that arse.” Giving it a gentle slap.

“You like that?” Satisfied with the mmm…that followed. We barely got any sleep. If she woke up and I was awake, we were fucking. If I woke up and she was awake, we were fucking. When it came to her, I had no self-control or sexual discipline. But after a few days of hating each other, taking out that frustration through sex made all that animosity go away with it.

Hovering over her to reach my hand between her legs, she gasped unprepared for it, panting like a mad woman who couldn’t get enough. I wanted this pussy sweet on me. Most of all, I wanted this pussy addicted to cock.

“Mmm…is this pussy mine?”

“Yes, Cillian.” Surprising me that she’d been able to say it this time. She could do better, though.

“Say it. Tell me that this pussy is mine,” I said as I reached my free hand over her neck, longing to feel the vibrations of her words on my hand.

“This pussy is yours, Cillian.”

“Then this pussy does what I tell it to. Fucking come on this cock. I want to empty my balls into a tight, spasming, needy little hole.” A bit of encouragement went a long way with Queenie. Clawing at my hand at her throat, she joined me in pained groans and twisted agony, reaching around her to squeeze my bum and pull me in closer.

Collapsing onto the mattress, as spent as we were, it didn’t stop us from falling into a drunken rhythm of light caresses, gentle pecking, as a tangle of limbs later, we were in a cuddle. I kissed her on the forehead, waiting for my heart rate to come down before I broke our beautiful silence.

Emblazoned by the natural sunlight, Queenie looked so beautiful, exhausted and ruined because of me. Even in our mess, her skin was so soft, so kissable, I took her hand in mine and pressed my lips to it.

“Jesus, woman.”

“What?” She giggled, confused.

“For a virgin, you sure know how to wear a man out.”

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