Page 93 of Wicked Spite
I dig it out, looking at the offending thing before tossing it onto the floor along with my knife.
Irelease her arm and grab the back of her head, dragging her mouth to mine. She fights me at first, but it’s half-hearted at best. Her lips soften against mine as I plunge my tongue into her mouth.
Before she can say anything else, I’m on her again. When our lips part, my fingers plunge into her mouth, her teeth sinking down hard on them in a desperate act of boldness. The pain shoots through me only making me harder.
I drop her legs from my shoulders, slipping inside her warm pussy once more. My hand moves between us to find that sensitive spot. Her clit is swollen with need and anger, and I slap it without mercy.
Her nails rake down my back, leaving burning trails that only stoke the fires higher. I can feel every tremor coursing through her body as she spirals closer to climax—her walls tightening around me like a vise. My own control frays at the edges; I’m teetering on the brink but holding back just enough to send her over first. As usual, I am being a considerate orgasm king.
“Fuck,” she gasps between spasms as she falls over that precipice into oblivion.
I’m right there with her—my own release crashing through me like a tidal wave as I spill inside of her. The room seems to tilt on its axis as we ride out those last moments together.
“Yeah, take it all, baby,” I groan into her ear, my grip on her hip tightening as I pump the last drop of my cum deep into her greedy, little cunt. Her body shudders beneath mine, and I can feel her milking me dry, sucking up every bit like she can’t get enough. The primal satisfaction of it all surges through me, and a dark thought seizes my mind.
“Fuck.” I love when I can make my wife damn near speechless.
“You take it so fucking well, don’t you?” I rasp, my voice rough with exertion and satisfaction. “Sucking up every drop of my cum like a greedy little cum slut for your husband.”
I grab her hips, slamming into her one last time for good measure, feeling the slick juices trying to escape from where her pussy is gripping my dick.
“I’m gonna fuck a baby into you soon,” I growl against her flushed skin, pulling back just enough to see that flicker of defiance flare in her eyes. “You won’t be able to ever fucking leave me.”
Her lips curl into a snarl as she shoves at my chest, forcing me to roll off her. “Get the fuck off me,” she snaps, wiping sweat-drenched hair from her face. “Good luck trying to get me pregnant, asshole. I’ve got PCOS, motherfucker, so the joke’s on you.”
A challenge. Perfect.
“Challenge fucking accepted,” I retort with a smirk, my breath still coming in heavy pants. “You think that’s gonna stop me? Every single time I fill you up, we’re playing a game I’ll eventually win. Russian roulette wifey, how many cum shots until you start growing our little spawn?”
I wrap my hand around her throat, not squeezing, just holding her there as if daring her to defy me. Her breaths come out in ragged pants, and I can feel the pulse quicken under my fingertips.
“You’re gonna sleep with me in you tonight,” I whisper in a voice that’s deep and smooth. “And then in the morning, I’ll fuck you raw again and again, so you better get some fucking rest.” I lean closer, my lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “Happy Fucking Valentine’s Day, wife.”
Chapter 34
Penn
Waking up to the sensation of wet warmth engulfing my cock is one hell of a way to start the morning. My mind’s foggy, caught between sleep and consciousness, but there’s no mistaking the delicious friction of Reagan’s mouth working me over. A groggy grin spreads across my face as I open my eyes to the dim light filtering through our bedroom curtains.
“Look at you,” I mumble, voice rough with sleep. “Doing wifey things.”
Reagan doesn’t respond. She just keeps sucking, her tongue swirling around the head of my dick with a skilled precision that makes my back arch involuntarily. Her fingers are exploring lower now, cold and wet as they graze my entrance. A jolt runs through me at the touch.
“Oh, you’re going there, huh?” I whisper, more to myself than anything, pulling my legs back instinctively, giving her better access. My heart’s pounding in my chest. This is new territory for us—hell, for me.
I force myself fully awake and glance down ather. Her dark hair spills over her shoulders as she focuses on me with those intense eyes. The sight alone is enough to drive me wild.
Reagan pulls off me, leaving a trail of spit connecting her lips to my throbbing cock. I groan in protest. “What the fuck?”
She sits up, and that’s when I see it—the same pink vibrating dildo I used on her last night strapped around her waist. Her lips curl into a wicked smile as she strokes the fake cock with one hand and lubes it up with the other.
“Since my fucking husband thinks he’s always in fucking control,” she says, her voice dripping with delicious venom, “I’m about to fuck you and make you my little quivering puddle.”
My eyebrow quirks up in surprise. There’s something undeniably hot about this power shift. Reagan squirts more lube onto her hand and works it onto the cock expertly, then lines it up with my ass before pushing in.
“Fuck,” I gasp, clutching the backs of my knees tighter as she fills me completely.
For a moment, we’re both still. Reagan letting me get used to the feeling while I try to catch my breath as the pain zips through me. Then she begins moving, slowly at first, drawing out each thrust until that pain turns into strange pleasure and morphs into something more intense.
