Page 147 of Free Heart
“Yes,” Dan says, releasing my throat as he fucks me with abandon. “For you.”
He grabs my hips and digs his calloused fingers in hard. “For you, baby. For you.”
He comes with his usual grunt, but he jerks and jolts for long, hot seconds, filling me with cum. I pant, gazing in the mirror as his face contorts with pleasure, until he collapses on my back, breathing hard and laughing. My attention turns to my own face—flushed, eyes glazed, tearstained, and looking entirely debauched.
“Husband’s hungry little hole,” Dan giggles, pulling free of my body, and then promptly shoving his fingers inside to fill me up. “Hungry,hungry.”
I start giggling too, the absurdity of it too much.
But he doesn’t stop feeding his fingers to my ruthlessly hungry hole. Playing with my prostate, working at it with a focus and intensity that shortly has me at his mercy again and happy to be. Before long I’m back to keening and shaking, huffing so hard the mirror is fogged from my breath, and then, after a sharp starburst of glory, I’m sobbing from the first anal orgasm of the night.
I see myself in the mirror as I lose it. I’m wild, unhinged, mouth open as sounds spill out, and my eyes leak tears as I shake like a vibrator set on high.
I’m grateful that Sailor insisted on paying for the honeymoon cabin that was apart from the main hotel. We’d be getting noise complaints by now otherwise.
“Good job with that orgasm, Doc,” Dan praises, making me laugh despite being almost dissociated with pleasure.
“Thanks,” I murmur. “I worked hard for it.”
“Me too. Love you. My husband.”
“Love you too, husband,” I echo, shivering as he kisses my shoulders and neck.
As we both come down from the height of my orgasm, we realize the water’s gone cold. Dan lets it out, and we dry off. He bundles me up in a robe and takes me out to the main room.
“Sit here, Doc,” he says, putting me on the sofa. He turns and adjusts the gas on the fireplace, lowering the flame to make the room a little darker and less toasty. “You need to rest now. The night’s not over. I’ve got more in store for you.”
I’m so limp from the sex we’ve already had, I almost protest, but the truth is I want Dan all night. I want to come as many times as he can wring an orgasm out of me, and I want to give it to him. All for him. Forever. A celebration of our love, a night like our first, a bookend to our unmarried life and a new beginning all at once.
Opening the champagne, he feeds me strawberries and chocolate, and we lounge together, entwined on the sofa. We talk about the wedding—how perfect it was, how cute Jeremiah was, how Leenie’s toast was less begrudging than expected—as we slowly finish off the bottle.
When we’re out of things to say, the fire leaps in comfortable silence as Dan massages my feet. The day has been long and exciting, and after the sex in the tub, I’m worried that I’ll fall asleep if he keeps it up. But Dan isn’t going to let that happen. Not on our honeymoon, anyway.
“Let’s make love,” Dan announces when my lids start to stay closed longer than they probably should if we’re going to do more tonight. He stands up and reaches for my hand. “On the bed. Like a boring married couple.”
I laugh, but I let him guide me over. After getting the lube from our luggage this time, he kisses me. As his tongue does utterly filthy things to my mouth, I think there’s nothing boring about how dirty he can be. Once I’m panting and hard again, he pulls away and slides my robe off to the floor. His fingers trail down my back and between my crack to fondle what belongs to him now.
“How’s your hole? Sore?”
I laugh and can’t help myself. “Hungry.”
Dan hoots, pushes me onto the bed, and then lifts my legs onto his shoulders.
“Well, let’s feed it again, Doc.” He slides lube-slicked fingers over my hole, tosses the bottle aside and lines up to push in. “Can’t have my husband starving for my dick now, can we?”
I press against his butt with my heels, helping him slide home. “Fuck, Danny. You always feel so good.” The pressure on my prostate promises so much pleasure ahead for me once he starts moving, and it’s all because of how perfectly we fit. I feel like crying at the miracle that Dan and I found each other, at the miracle that he lived, and we can have this.
“Ready for me to fulfill my vow again?” he asks, once again grinding against me so that I feel his pubes against my rim.
“Which one now?”
“The one where I promised to always fuck you until you cry.”
I take in a shuddery breath. “Oh, yeah, please, Danny. Make me cry.”
“Mm. Lay back. This might take a while.”
And it does, but it also doesn’t.
