Claiming His Wife (Domestic Discipline 4) - Page 52

The suspicious look she gave him would have been insulting if it wasn't so amusing. It changed immediately as he caressed down her body, pinching her nipple on the way, until he could flatten his palm across her hip and reach between them to rub her clitoris with his thumb. The expression on her face shifted to cautious wonderment as she clenched around him and then gasped. As soon as her muscles relaxed, Wesley took the opportunity to rock himself forward, thrusting a few more inches into her body.

"Oh!" Her back arched, thrusting her breasts up at him, as her head fell back and she offered up her vulnerable throat to him. Leaning down, Wesley nipped at the soft skin, continuing to rub slow circles over her clit, giving her as much additional sensation as possible to help with the slow invasion of her deflowered pussy. The tight channel fluttered around him as he pushed in, testing his self-control with its hot grip, making him want to sink into her over and over again, hard and fast, until he filled her with his seed.

One day he'd be able to do that, but not today when she was too new to the activity. He wasn't exactly small, or even moderately sized, and she was going to be sore enough after this.

"That feels... oh goodness..." Cynthia writhed as he worked himself deeper, her arms only tugging slightly at his hold on her wrists. In some ways, it was easier for her to accept him into her body now that she wasn't able to move or try and push him away. Besides, the way he was rubbing her clit had her clenching in pleasure, even though the stinging burn of inner muscles stretching hadn't quite subsided.

"Good girl," he whispered, before leaning over and capturing her lips. He shifted again, laying his full length over her as his hand traveled back up her body.

That was when Cynthia realized he must be fully inside of her.

He hadn't lied, the movements he'd made didn't hurt in the same way at all. Not from when he'd first entered her and not the same as when he'd gone in the bad hole. Now it just felt like she was stretched and so very full, but it felt much better and much less shameful than when he filled her other hole. The stretch didn't burn quite as much, it didn't feel as though she should be pushing him out... in fact, having him inside of her like this, with his weight on top of her, felt so wonderfully right than she thought she could stay just like this forever.

Then he started to move.

Even though his thumb was no longer caressing her clit, the little bud was swollen and sensitive, and when he fully sheathed himself inside of her again, his body pressed up against it in the most amazing way. Cynthia cried out, lifting her hips, trying to get more contact as the ecstasy buzzed through her body. His kiss was demanding as he slowly thrust in and out of her pussy, his tongue spearing her at the same time that his cock did, muffling her cries and moans.

She could feel every inch of him, rubbing inside of her, hard and hot and so very fulfilling. It was far, far better than when he'd put his fingers in her.

Slowly his movements began to come faster, harder, and his lips pulled away from hers as they both panted for breath. His expression was almost a grimace as he pumped his hips, making the most incredible groaning noises that seemed to pierce her right down to her core. Cynthia couldn't believe how wild, how primitive he looked. Naked and above her, joined with her, it was shockingly intimate and improper.

"Put your arms around my neck," he ordered as he released her wrists.

She obeyed with alacrity, wanting to hold onto him. To touch him. Her fingers slid into his hair as he changed his position slightly, both of his hands sliding under her body to grip her buttocks. The welts stung as his fingers dug into her fleshy bottom, forcing her to tilt her hips upwards, but that was nothing compared to the surge of ecstasy as his cock rubbed over the most wonderful spot inside of her. The pleasure soared higher as, at the end of his stroke, his body pressed against her clit and the two jolts of sensation connected.

Without realizing it, Cynthia clawed at his shoulders, coming apart beneath him as he ground himself against her sensitive pussy. The clenching tremors of her muscles nearly undid him, but Wesley grit his teeth and held on to his own release. He had his pride after all.

"Oh... oh Wesley... I can't... it's too much... I've never... OH!"

The shock and awe on her face were wiped out by rapture as she screamed with passion, obviously overcome by an immense climax, the likes of which she'd never experienced. It was exactly what he'd been aiming for, waiting for, as he'd positioned her so that both her inner and outer sweet spots had been stimulated by his thrusting. Now he could let himself go.

Cynthia screamed again, writhing and dragging her nails down his back as she shook with the intensity of her orgasm, which was only increasing as he began to seek his own pleasure. The pounding thrusts between her thighs had her pussy spasming. They came much harder and faster than before, as Wesley wallowed in the tight sheath of her body, fucking her as hard as he could.

He wanted every inch of her to feel him, to submit to him.

"Mine," he growled, feeling the tingling in the base of his spine that signaled his own oncoming orgasm. She was his, all his, and no other man's. Ever.

"YES!" she screamed, as he got even harder, thicker inside of her.

Tears were leaking down her face, which he was sure she was unaware of, her body straining against his. Her pussy convulsed and squeezed, and he groaned her name into her hair as he thrust home one final time and began to empty himself inside of her. They rocked together, his groin grinding against her clit and swollen lips as jet after jet of thick cream completed her deflowering.

He continued to rock, his movements becoming more gentle as she jerked beneath him, whimpering from the onslaught of overwhelming sensations. Slowly they came back to earth together as he kissed the salty tears from her cheeks, stroking her hair and soothing her... calming her... The tempestuous currents that had carried her away slowed and eddied, allowing her to relax her grip on his shoulders.

From the sting, he'd have marks there tomorrow. Possibly for several days to come. The thought made him grin.

"Oh!" she whispered, shuddering again as his softened cock finally fell from its warm haven. "That felt so strange."

Snorting, Wesley carefully rolled off of her, getting up to retrieve a cloth and wet it in the basin. When he turned back around, his bride was right where he'd left her, soft brown curls resting on the pillow, her arms at her sides, and her legs still spread. The sight of pink cream smearing her inner thighs made him feel both guilty that he'd hurt her when he'd taken her maidenhead and intensely, possessively, triumphant in a barbaric way.

She watched with half-lidded eyes, not the least bit bothered by any kind of modesty, as he carefully cleaned the mess they had made, sighing a bit with relief as the cool cloth swept over her heated pussy.

When Wesley returned to the bed, after wiping his cock clean as well, he pulled Cynthia to the other side of the large piece of furniture, away from the lingering dampness on the sheets. She snuggled into him immediately, her hand resting on his chest, making a sound of sleepy contentment.

"Well, baggage, what do you think of sex?" he asked, twining one of her curls about his finger. It wasn't the kind of question he'd ever asked a lover, but he was curious about her answer.

"It's not going to hurt at the beginning every time, is it?" she asked, her voice lilting a bit with sleepiness.

"No, sweetheart," he reassured her, feeling the smallest pang of remorse. "It was only this once."

Tags: Golden Angel Domestic Discipline Historical
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