Page 87 of Claimed By the Villain
I do my best to stay still. I promised myself I’d make her work for it. But when she takes me deep into her throat, I grab her face and start thrusting hard and deep.
She gags over and over, but I don’t stop, remembering the scene I read in her diary, determined to fulfill every detail.
I pound into her mouth mercilessly, driving down her throat, and less than a minute later, I warn, “Drink it all, Miss Alston.”
I fuck her throat with urgent thrusts, feeling her swallow, almost frantic, as the first spurt of cum hits.
Jackie keeps sucking me, even when there’s nothing left. She licks and kisses me as if she can’t get enough.
I haul her up and crash my mouth against hers, kissing her hard, restarting the madness only she can drive me to.
“You had your fun the way you wanted, Miss Alston. Now it’s my turn.”
“I thought it already was your turn.”
“Oh no, wife. I haven’t even started.”
Chapter 45
Today was officially supposed to be our second-to-last day of nearly four weeks on the Caribbean island.
I can’t remember another time in my life when I’ve felt this much at peace, but being isolated here with Jackie allowed me to disconnect from everything, even the future, when I’ll have to hurt her by telling her the truth about her father’s death.
When she said she wanted a honeymoon, I thought of an island because I remembered her love for beaches. At first, though, I figured all we’d end up doing in such a boring place was having sex.
Fucking on the menu, every single minute we stayed here.
I’d have been fine with that, but my wife had other plans.
We woke up early to swim every day, we explored the island, and between being certain she’s crazy or just wildly imaginative, I heard Jackie claim there had to be hidden treasure here.
She taught me how to surf, and on several nights we fell asleep under the stars, passed out in each other’s arms.
We talked, and she asked me questions about the time I stayed away from her, watching only from the shadows.
Some I answered. So many others I left hanging, and strangely, she didn’t push. Like when she wanted to know why, after her father died, I never really lived with them again. She wanted to know why I decided to leave.
And now she’s leaning against my chest, straddling me on a lounge chair by the water as we watch the sunset.
Her hair smells like the sea and summer. Her body smells like woman.
My woman.
“I don’t think we should go back,” she says.
“Fine. I’ll buy the place.”
She laughs, thinking I’m joking. I’m not.
The island belongs to Ruslan, who told me his wedding gift to me was letting me borrow it.
I can see the happiness on her face every morning when she wakes up to the sound of the ocean, so I’ve started seriously considering getting one myself. If not to live on permanently, at least a place we could escape to every now and then.
“All right, since you’re thinking about buying, we need to discuss the decor. I have some ideas,” she teases. She shifts to straddle me fully as the sun disappears into the water.
“Pick whatever you want. I don’t care, as long as coming here gives me access to your pussy every day.”
She hides her face with her hands. “My God, you’re such a prince. The king of romance.”
