Page 117 of Wicked Sinner
Bridget gives me a wicked smile, her fingers going to my belt. She has me naked beneath her in a matter of minutes, and she lets out a low hum as my cock springs free and she reaches for it, her fingers rolling over the piercings as she leans in to lap her tongue against the head.
Her lips around my cock feel like heaven. I’m dizzy from the pleasure as she toys with the piercing in the tip, teasing the ones running down my length, playing with me until I’m all but begging for her. She licks the pre-cum away from the head again and again, stroking and licking and sucking until I reach for her arms and tug her toward me.
“I need to be inside of you,bellissima,” I groan, and she smiles, moving gently to straddle my hips as she strips her underwear off. The feel of her warm skin against mine is almost too much, and I have to grit my teeth to maintain control.
"Tell me if I hurt you," she whispers, positioning herself over me.
"You won't," I assure her, gripping her hip with my good hand. Nothing could hurt right now. Everything about her feels too fucking good.
She sinks down slowly, taking me into her body inch by inch. The sensation is exquisite—she's so wet, so tight, so perfect around me. When she's fully seated, we both groan at the feeling.
"Okay?" she asks, her voice breathless.
"More than okay," I manage.
She starts to move then, setting a slow, torturous rhythm that has me seeing stars. She's gorgeous above me, her head thrown back in pleasure, the sight of her taking my breath away. I touch her everywhere I can without hurting myself—her hips, her taut stomach, her swaying, bouncing breasts as she rides my cock to the point of no return. When I feel my balls tighten, my orgasm too close, I slide my hand against her, rubbing her clit as she grinds herself on me.
I want to flip her over, to take control, to show her exactly how much I want her. But my shoulder protests every time I try to move too much, so I force myself to lie back and let her set the pace.
It's torture. Beautiful, exquisite torture.
"Faster," I groan, rubbing her clit feverishly.
"No.” She gives me a smirk. "You're injured. We have to take it slow."
She's teasing me, punishing me in the most delicious way possible. I love this side of her—confident, playful, completely in control of her own pleasure and mine.
"Bridget," I warn, but she just laughs and continues her slow torture.
It feels as if it goes on forever, and I love every excruciating second of it. She builds me up to the edge over and over again, then pulls back just enough to keep me from falling over. By thetime she finally takes pity on me and increases her pace, I'm practically shaking with need.
I feel her tense, feel her clench and flutter around me as her head falls back and her orgasm courses through her, and the sound of her moan coupled with the delicious squeeze of her perfect pussy around me sends me over the edge.
I grab her hip, groaning and bucking up into her as the first hot spurts of cum fill her, my cock throbbing as I find my release. My vision blurs, the pleasure racing up my spine as Bridget cries out my name, and I know that nothing else in the world will ever feel this good.
We lie there for a long time afterward, her head on my good shoulder, our breathing slowly returning to normal. I stroke her hair with my free hand, marveling at how right this feels. How perfect it is to lie here with her, and not worry she’s going to run. To know she’s mine, forever.
"I love you," I murmur into her hair.
"I love you too," she replies, pressing a kiss to my chest.
"No regrets?"
She lifts her head to look at me, her eyes serious. "None. What about you?"
I shake my head. "Only that it took us so long to get here."
She smiles and settles back against me. "We're here now. That's what matters."
We could have been here months ago if I hadn't been such an arrogant bastard, if I'd handled things differently from the beginning. But she's right—we're here now, and that's what counts.
"What happens next?" she asks quietly.
I shift slightly to look at her. "What do you mean?"
Bridget turns slightly so that she can meet my eyes. "I mean with Konstantin. He’s still not happy that you married me, right?”
"I'll handle Konstantin," I tell her, though I'm not entirely sure how yet. She’s right that nothing there is fixed, but it’s a problem I’ll figure out. There’s not a chance in hell I’m going to lose Bridget, not now that I finally have her.
