Page 93 of The Stallion
“Have I ever told you—” I pulled myself up, repositioning myself to straddle his hips on the bench with one knee on either side of his spread thighs. I then lifted my right knee, pressing it firmly to his chest and shoving him back with all my weight until his upper body reached the mattress and I was towering over him. “—how fucking pretty you are with my pussy covering your mouth?”
Checkmate, Ponyboy.
Without pause, my husband’s hands gripped onto my ass cheeks and he forced me over his head with little to no effort until I was straddling his face, my underwear already soaked from being turned on from his praise, leaving nothing left to hide.
“You know, all you had to do to shut me up was simply ask me to eat you, sweet girl.” Dallas dragged his tongue over the wet fabric that stood between him and my pussy, tugging on it with his teeth. “Fuck, all of this just for me? Did crawling get you off already, wifey?” Pulling my thong aside with his index finger, he speared his tongue inside of me, while latching onto my clit and sucking it harder than he ever had before. “You know what? Fuck dinner, I’m going to have my wife before our task tonight. She tastes way better than anything those chefs could cook up.”
Forcing me down on his face, I couldn’t help but grind myself against his stubble while he moaned into me, his mouth and tongue fucking me like a goddamn dream.
“Dallas.” I moaned his name, gripping the sheets just above his head as I fell forward, getting a quick glimpse at the time on my phone’s idle screen. “Fuck, Dallas… We’re—We’re going to be l-late.” I struggled to speak, already wound up from his new version of verbal foreplay.
“Then you better hurry up, sweet girl. Let me have my fill of my wifey’s fucking cum.”
I felt his thumb slide to press and roll against my clit, while he continued to twist and twirl his tongue inside me. I ground myself harder against his stubble, riding his face until my vision started to blur.
Within seconds, I found myself screaming my release as my back arched and I came over him, my legs trembling from the force of the orgasm and struggling to support my weight.
Hearing his deep moan of satisfaction, Dallas released his hold on my ass and I collapsed to the side, gasping for air on the bed, and groaning into the sheets while pressing my thighs together in an attempt to calm my body down from it soaring high.
“Always a fucking treat.” While cleaning his glistening lips with his tongue, my husband dropped himself down beside me, an elbow propped on the mattress to support his head as he admired my winded self with affectionate eyes.
“I bet you say that to all the pretty girls.” I jested with a huff as I turned away to look up at the ceiling, shutting mine while my breath finally caught up to me.
Dallas leaned over, his breath a warm caress across my already flushed skin as he started to whisper in my ear.
“Only the ones that would kill for me—speaking of, better get dressed, my sweet, delicious girl. Our target is waiting. Wear the heels—I’ve earned it.”
Andbefore I knew it—although I should have seen it coming—he smacked the side of my ass and pushed himself off the bed, sending me an adorable wink before taking his leave of the bedroom.
That fucking husband of mine.
Couples’tasksareassignedthe same way as the standard individual ones for the men; however, they are better aligned to be handled in pairs, which is why married couples are highly valued within the MUR.
Earlier this morning, Dallas and I were assigned a task in a known swingers suite at Stardust—our first real one outside my initial test.
Bella and Oliver Rasp. Usually, renting out a suite on one of the upper levels, this wife-and-husband pair often hosted their guests in their room, preying on couples at the hotel and casino bars, and luring them away for a night of unadulterated fun. At least that’s what they think.
Dustin confirmed that this particular couple has had more nefarious ideas in mind—aside from just fucking all night long.
As a matter of fact, they had been caught more than a few times, drugging, abusing, and robbing those who’d entered their room, their targets often being wealthy couples with exceedingly deep pockets—no surprise there.
In their latest violation, however, they had abandoned their victims on the brink of death, leaving a clear indicator that theircrimes were progressively turning more violent, and they needed to be stopped before a body count started.
In typical Mr. and Mrs. Ryan fashion, we swaggered across the casino floor of Stardust, making a direct path for the hotel’s central tower elevator bay.
My husband wrapped his arms around my waist as he pressed the call button, grazing his soft lips along the side of my neck as we waited.
“Not nerved up at all, sweet girl?” He asked with a murmur against my flushed skin.
As any normal, sane wife, I should be nervous, this being only my second task. But I remained unbothered, slightly excited, if anything, with the thrill of making my first kill with my husband in the same room. However, that could also just be my elevated emotions talking too—from the earth-shattering orgasm he had given me earlier.
“You ask as though you’re questioning my abilities, dear husband.” I inspected my nails with a bored tone. I had them done earlier in the day, unsuspecting that we would be scheduled for a last-minute task. They were a bright, glossy red, stiletto in shape with a black underside—an inverted version of my shoes.
Can’t blame a girl for keeping up with the Mr and Mrs Smith aesthetic.
“I know my wifey enjoys all the fucked up things. I just wanted to ensure she was ready for her next kill.”
I glanced at him from the corner of my eye with a smirk before turning in his arms and dragging my index finger along the undersideof his chin. The sensation caused his hands to tense around my waist.
