I went to yank my hand from my aching pussy with a jerk, when a voice froze my movement.
“I want to see more.”
My eyes widened and my cheeks heated as I turned my head to the side. Embarrassment flooded me as I found my husband seated on the chair next to the bed, his legs crossed at the ankles.
He’s still wearing those damn pants.
My eyes fell to his taut forearms, the soft moonlight throwing shadows over his features. The look in his eyes was dark, a thousand words spoken without him uttering a single sound.
His gaze zeroed in on my hand still frozen between my parted legs.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered.
“Watching you. Wishing my tongue could replace those fingers.”
I looked down, my glistening pussy on full display. When in the hell did I get rid of my panties? Mortification filled me and my cheeks burned as I returned my gaze to him.
“Care for a toy?” he suggested.
I paused, my heart thundering at the tempting idea. When I remained silent, he stood up and closed the distance to the bed, taking my hand in his—the same one that was on my most intimate parts—and lifted it to his face.
Then he inhaled my scent deeply into his lungs. “Fuck.”
My feelings dispersed, my heart buzzing, thundering, with nothing to anchor it. It desperately wanted to flee tohim.
“Will you let me eat you out, wife?” he whispered darkly. “Like that first day.”
My nipples instantly peaked into tight buds under his merciless gaze.
“Just that?” I asked cautiously, almost hopefully.
He remained there, watching, looming, waiting.
“Anything you want.”
His long, masculine fingers wrapped around a taut nipple and twisted, gently at first, then harshly. A sharp inhale echoed in the silence, pleasure zapping straight to my core. It was so strong that my entire body shuddered, my every nerve coming alive under his touch.
He pinched both nipples and I nearly levitated off the bed with a yelp. “Mmm… again.”
“So demanding.” His voice was low, like the cool silk surrounding me.
He twisted them again, more forcefully this time, and I released an anguished cry.
“Yes, yes… ahhh…” I whimpered when he massaged the aching nipples with the pads of his rough thumbs. He continued twisting and pinching my nipples, then ran the pad of his thumb over the tips as if soothing them, giving them a slight reprieve before he went back to torturing them again. He knew exactly what to do with my body to bring it to release.
My core throbbed in sync with the rhythm of his fingers. Hard and fast, then slow and agonizing. My thighs rubbed together, hungry for his hand. Then, as if reading my mind, he released my one breast, tracing his hand down my stomach all the way to my soaked pussy.
At the same time he pinched my nipple, hard enough to elicit a whimper of pain, he thrust his finger inside me and a shiver shot through my body.
“Ohhh…” I moaned throaty sounds.
“Mmm. You’re dripping, angel.” Christian ran a finger through my folds. Pleasure coupled with pain and my lips parted in a wordless cry. “Look at me.”
He thrust two fingers inside me and I almost blacked out from the sensation. “Ahhh…”
“Your walls are strangling my fingers,” he rasped, his eyes locked on me. “Do you wish you had my cock?”
I moaned my answer.