The Woman with the Ring (Costa Family)

It wasn’t a bad way to start a marriage.

And the chemistry, well, that sort of spoke for itself. I never needed to work so hard to pretend to not be attracted to someone as I did with Primo.

Primo’s hands slid down my back, massaging over the curve of my ass, then gathering up my long skirt until it was stuck around my waist. His hands moved up, palming my ass before sinking in hard. Hard enough that he pulled me off of my feet by it, lifting me up, and waiting for my legs to wrap around his waist.

Which they did.

His teeth nipped my lower lip as he turned and walked toward my old bed, turning, and sitting down with me straddling him.

His hands were hungry then, moving over my bare ass cheeks, toying with the barely-there little strap of my thong, slipping up my sides, closing over the swells of my breasts, then yanking down my bodice, flicking off my bra, then cupping my exposed skin, and teasing over my nipples.

My body was a complete inferno even before Primo’s lips were moving from mine, making a trail down my jaw, then my neck, the scratch of his stubble unexpectedly erotic.

I wanted him inside of me and the release as much as I wanted my next breath.

But not quite as much as I wanted to show him that things were different now. Or, at least, they were starting to be different.

And I could accomplish that by taking the lead, by giving as much as I had received in the past.

So before Primo could continue his kisses down my chest and toward my breasts, I was pushing back, then sliding off his long legs.

My gaze held his heavy-lidded one as I went down on my knees in front of him.

My hands landed at his knees and slid forward up his thighs, watching as the surprise and pleasure crossed his handsome features as my fingers worked his button and zipper free.

Reaching inside, I pulled out his thick, straining cock. Then, gaze holding his, I let my mouth fall open, my tongue teasing the edge of my lips. A literal open invitation.

“Fuck, lamb,” he groaned, fisting his cock at the base and tracing my lower lip with the head. “Lick it,” he demanded, holding it as my tongue moved out to trace over his head, tasting him, wetting him more as a surprising rush of pleasure filled my body. “Wider,” he demanded as his free hand cupped my jaw, waiting for my lips to part more to accommodate his thickness.

“Good girl,” he murmured as his cock started to slide into my waiting mouth. “Fuck,” he hissed as my lips closed around him.

His hand slid from my jaw to gather up my hair and pin it behind my head as I started to suck him, slow and tentative at first, but gaining in speed and enthusiasm as I found the rhythm that worked for him, as his hisses for breath and his quiet groans spurred me on.

His other hand slid to the back of my neck after a moment, putting firm pressure until I started to take him deep. “Look at me,” he demanded, and my eyes opened to find him watching me with the most intense eyes I’d ever seen. “More, baby,” he groaned, putting more pressure on the back of my neck.

I didn’t think I could take more.

I’d never done that before.

“You can,” he assured me, voice soft, coaxing. “Take a breath and swallow,” he added.

Figuring it was worth a try, I followed his instructions. And just as I swallowed, Primo bucked his hips up into my mouth. The head of his cock hit the back of my throat. “Don’t fight it, lamb,” he instructed, voice tight, clearly enjoying the sensation. “You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, chest heaving with his erratic breaths. “Let me fuck your mouth,” he went on. “You can tap out,” he said, reaching for my hand and pressing it onto his thigh. “But let me fuck your mouth, baby.”

I never thought I would allow a man to do that to me.

It had never sounded even remotely sexy.

But when Primo said it?

He almost made me believe I could enjoy it as well somehow.

So I gave him the smallest of nods that had him exhaling hard as his hand cupped my throat as the other gripped the back of my neck.

And then he fucked my mouth, his hips bucking up into my throat as his hands guided my head up and down on him.

Impossibly, even as the tears slipped down my cheeks and my saliva and his precum slipped down my chin, I could feel my walls tightening hard, somehow enjoying this savage sort of selflessness as Primo’s breathing got even more ragged, as his groans became little hisses of pleasure.