Page 52 of King of Ashes
I sense her rather than see her, her small gasp indicating I didn’t conjure my fantasy, but it’s real.
Swiping my palm to erase the condensation from the shower stall glass, I catch her on the other side, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Mouth slightly ajar, she seems enraptured by my jerking off, my little voyeur.
I fucked her so many times, in every possible position, from her mouth to her pussy and ass. But she doesn’t remember me, and fuck it feels like I get the chance to do it all over again. The thought alone makes my cock weep some more pre-cum.
I lock eyes with her, commanding, “Eyes on me.”
She swallows hard, and I continue, “You wanted to see how desperate I am for you? I’m fucking my hand and imagining it’s you.”
A stuttered moan falls from her lips, and I grunt, “An animal, that’s what you turned me into, with no control. One who wants to fuck you like it’s my life’s mission. Stretch your tight pussy, come into you so deep it will nullify the contraceptive shot.”
My rhythm turns frantic, increasing my speed, tightening my grip to the point of pain. I am so close to release I feel it in my heavy balls, ready to burst.
She watches me with rapt attention, only adding to the eroticism of the moment. She grips the edge of the sink, licking her lips, and the pressure builds and builds to unbearable, coiling around my limbs.
“You like that, though, don’t you? You want me to break. See what will happen once I do. Let me tell you, wife. It would mean nothing good for you. Enjoy me taking it slow, be thankful for the time when it’s your show, because afterward, I’ll be the one in control. In control of your pleasure, of your body.”
I erupt, painting the shower glass with sticky, thick streaks of white, and catch my breath.
By the time I compose myself, she has disappeared. She can hide, but she won’t escape me. I would find her anywhere.
Getting out, I wrap a towel low around my hips, the knot threatening to unfold any moment. I am a bastard for torturing her like this, but I am torturing myself just as much.
She lies on the bed, her back against the headboard, one knee bent up while the other leg stretches on the mattress, posing like an offering for a starved beast.
Zara watches every single one of my moves as she rolls her ring on her finger. She won’t hold on for long once I put my hands on her. The thought alone creates a pep in my step as I walk inside the walk-in closet and find my stuff neatly arranged next to hers.
I put on boxer briefs and join her in bed, sensing her mind going a hundred miles an hour. I know exactly what will help her overly anxious brain, so I ignore the sound of protest she lets out as I pull her to me. Once her back hits my chest, the protest dies on her lips.
Heaving myself against the headboard, I spread her thighs with my knees, causing her negligee to ride up, revealing her core. Then I place my palm on her belly, allowing her some time to prepare for what will happen.
“I know what you need. Let me help you, baby.” I brush my fingers down the valley of her breasts, and she offers me a tiny nod. “I need your words. I want your permission. I yearn for your submission.”
She lets out a sound half moan, half groan as I continue caressing her, my touch lulling her deeper into the layers of seduction.
Lowering my mouth to her ear, I whisper, voice hoarse, “It will be liberating. My woman is surely wet after the show in the bathroom.”
Goose bumps pepper her sensitive skin. “You’re shameless.”
“In wanting you,” I say, sounding unapologetic.
My fingers inch lower, finding their coveted destination. She’s not wet, she’s drenched.
She buries her face in my neck, trying to hide her desire, which I am eager to unleash.
I flick her clit, evoking needy sounds from her mouth, but I want her entire body to sing for me. Pushing two fingers inside her, I play with her folds, the wet sounds echoing in my ears, pumping me up with satisfaction.
“Can you hear how wet your pussy is for me? Such a tight, greedy hole.”
She squirms, not understanding her reaction to a derogatory word, liking that just as much as the praise. “Such a good girl for me.”
“Vian…”
“Do you want my cock back inside you and pretend you don’t need it?”
“Please…”
She seeks my eyes, and they look glazed over with desire. It almost undoes me, but first she will give me what I want.
