Page 93 of Bride By Coronation

An orgasm hits me, and I can't stop trembling, yet it's not as powerful as the first one his cock gave me. I rasp, "More."

He furrows his eyebrows.

I manage to get out, "Please."

He kisses me quickly, muttering against my lips, "Careful what you wish, my beautiful wife," and then gives me what I want.

My oxygen disappears completely. He slams his pelvis against me, holding my throat in place, and my pussy loses all control. The most intense high of my life floods every cell I have, and I yank on the chains, violently convulsing underneath him. My eyes roll back and stay there. White light flashes twice behind my lids and then blackness takes over. The noise around me fades, and it's only Kirill's warmth wrapped around my shaking body.

"Fuck," he barks, but I barely register it.

Then his cock widens, flooding me deep with hot cum. It exponentially affects my high, taking me to a place I didn't realize existed.

Red flashes, then white, then black returns, and everything turns silent.

"Fiona!" Kirill roars, releasing his hand from my throat and stroking my cheek.

I cough, and everything is fuzzy.

"Fiona!" he frets, coming into view.

I blink a few times.

"Unshackle her," he orders.

Hissing fills the arena.

Within seconds, I'm released. They lower my legs and unclasp the cuffs from my wrists.

Kirill slides both hands on my cheeks. "Fiona!"

I reach my arms around him, sliding my hand through his hair, and take shallow breaths.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, his eyes glistening. "I'm—" He looks away, shaking his head. "Fuck."

The knights hold their swords over us again, slamming them into each other. The sharp metallic clang rings through the air.

I turn his face back to mine and pull it toward me, leaning up and flicking my tongue against his lips.

He jerks his head backward, as if in shock.

Stomping starts again, along with longer hisses.

I tug him toward me, kissing him, and he resists for a moment.

I tighten my arms around him and slide my tongue back into his mouth.

He finally relaxes, returning my affection but not taking his gaze off mine, as if unsure if I really want to kiss him. His hand slips under me, and his fingers push through my updo, gripping my head. His cock hardens inside me, and I realize he never took it out.

He slowly thrusts, and sensation flares inside me once again. More spasms ignite, but this time, it's a different type of intensity. It's not better or worse. It's just another feeling I've never experienced.

Like before, he never breaks our gaze, as if he's somehow fascinated by me, which I don't understand, but I decide I like it. Maybe it's false intimacy since we don't really know each other, but it makes me feel special, like I'm his and only his.

Since we're married, I suppose I am his now, but the way he watches me gives me the illusion he already cares about me. And maybe he does. After all, he knew who I was before we showed up for our vows, and he took the time to write the letters and pick out my outfits, so doesn't that count for something?

"You're perfect, my little bird," he mumbles between kisses, and a vulnerability I've never seen on any man's face softens his expression.

Something about it tears at my heart. So I kiss him with everything I have, holding him tighter, unable to speak or control the whimpers flying out of me, still convulsing against his hard frame.

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