We break the kiss to suck air into our lungs, Gwen’s gorgeously flushed face making my heart slam into my ribs. There’s a conflict waging in her eyes, though. Indecision. I don’t like it. I don’t want her to feel anything but happiness from now until forever.
“What is it, my love?”
I don’t know where the endearment comes from, but nothing has ever felt more right or natural. It seems to push Gwen toward whatever decision she’s struggling with. Her mouth finds mine and she kisses me with twice the abandon, her perfect, curvy body rolling me onto my back and straddling me without breaking the kiss. I swear to God, I almost die from the pleasure of having her on top of me, her pussy hot and wet on my shaft, rubbing herself up and back against it, turning me inside out with need.
Every writhe of her sweet flesh tightens my balls, every duel of our tongues makes me a grateful man, for she is love and acceptance and temptation all in one. An embarrassment of riches for a man who thought his heart was permanently hardened.
“Is this how you will make me come this time, woman?” I grip her juicy ass cheeks and work her roughly on my cock, my neck muscles straining with the building lust in my loins. “Will you rub this little virgin cunt on me until I spend all over my stomach?”
“No,” she whispers against my lips, her eyes golden brown in the lantern light. “You will spend inside of me this time, Your Majesty.” She nips at my mouth. “Won’t you like that?”
God help me, I almost empty my sack there and then.
This is it. This is proof she has accepted my proposition.
Thank God.
Right?
I ignore the sense of foreboding in the back of my head and let the needs of my body outweigh everything else. “Jesus Christ, Gwen. Yes.” I mold her backside in my hands, chest heaving violently. “Wrap that slippery pussy around the king.”
Eyes heavy lidded, this goddess of mine reaches back and guides my swollen dick between her thighs. She bites her lip and presses me against that unclaimed hole, rubbing the head of my shaft side to side until her flesh blossoms open, allowing me entry.
The intensity of our stare increases, neither one of us able to look away as she impales herself, inch by inch, her lips parting on a whimpering pant when I’m halfway there.
An upthrust of my hips seats me fully, eliciting a scream-sob from Gwen and a lustful snarl from me—and I have to bear down on my lower body to keep from ejaculating. Lord, she is fucking paradise. Soft and narrow and drenched. She’s is untried, her incredible tightness only reminds me of that fact, but there is no going slow. No. Not for me, not for Gwen. She is already leaning forward and balancing herself on my shoulders, her hips working several different angles, looking for comfort, her eyes flashing with pleasure.
“No timid maidens for the king,” she breathes, her mouth dancing over mine. “A warrior’s body such as yours demands a rough servicing, does it not?”
“Yes,” I groan, my attention riveted by her beauty, her sensuality that is taking even deeper root now, as if she could get any more perfect for me. I’m not going to last a minute if she keeps talking like this, her cunt milking me rhythmically. “Give it to me.”
Her hips snap back and grind down, both of us moaning at the friction.
“Like that, your majesty?”
My back bows off the bed, desire twisting in my stomach. “Fuck. Yes.”
She rubs her tits side to side in my chest hair, letting me feel her exquisite nipples against the flat circles of mine. “Is this what you need after a hard day?” Gwen purrs, taking me at a faster pace now. Riding me. Enveloping my dick with her slick womanhood, releasing me halfway, then gripping every inch of me greedily on the way back down. Doing it over and over until I’m holding her hips in a bruising grip, calling her name hoarsely, devouring her mouth when she brings it close enough, cursing vilely when she brings her lips flush with mine, hips rolling furiously, and says, “Do you like my tight, wet sex, Your Majesty?”
“Enough, woman,” I roar, flipping Gwen onto her back, wrapping a hand around her throat and thrusting the way a man does when his orgasm won’t wait. When it’s burning like an out of control pyre at the base of his spine, his balls weighted down with pressure, cock so sensitive that only one more stroke, one more stroke will do him. “Do I like your tight, wet cunt, my love? No. I fucking worship it.” I ram myself deep and hold, circling my hips crudely. “This tight little gash between your legs alone will be responsible for my peaceful kingdom. What need do I have of battle when the greatest reward is already in my bed?”