Total pages in book: 208
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 209645 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1048(@200wpm)___ 839(@250wpm)___ 699(@300wpm)
“And you,” he replied.
His fingers so skilled, my hips became frenzied, my hand clenched his cock tightly, and my husband built the heat in both of us.
“I-I need something,” I whimpered.
“You’ll have it soon, amore. But take this now.”
We worked his tip with our thumbs and then he deepened our strokes as he pressed the silk of it to me and rubbed.
Oh yes.
I needed something.
Something more.
Him.
“Gods,” I breathed.
“You must finish, Silence,” he grunted.
“Mars.”
“Finish,” he growled.
“Mars!” I cried, trembling above him as my climax consumed me.
“Fuck,” he bit, shifted me slightly away, and I felt the violent jerks of his body as he changed the strokes of our hands to deep, tight, swift tugs.
I wanted to watch, but I was dancing in the flames, so I couldn’t.
They faded, leaving me panting.
Mars was breathing heavily and inquiring, “Do you wish to rest on me?”
I had no idea why he was asking that, for I was only able to hold myself away from him because he was doing the holding.
“Why would I not?”
“My seed is all over my stomach, piccolina,” he said gently.
I tugged from his hold and collapsed on his body.
I felt it relax under me as his arms curved around me.
I snuggled deeper.
He was a little slippery, but he felt divine, all of him, particularly the hardness still there that I felt pressing against the moist, sensitive part of me.
Still, even as I nuzzled his chest with my cheek, I said, “Not fair.”
He sounded bewildered (and his voice had a pleasing note of gruff), when he asked, “Not fair?”
I tipped my head up to look at him, seeing his bearded chin deep in his throat to look down at me, all his many piercings winking in the sunlight coming through the windows.
“I was supposed to please you.”
“You might have been climaxing when it happened, my queen, so perhaps you missed it. But you can rest assured that happened.”
“Yes, with you doing it to yourself as well as me.”
His mouth quirked. “Trust me, it was you doing it.”
“Was not.”
His lips curved. “It was.”
“Was not.”
He smiled blinding white. “It was, Silence.”
“It was supposed to be me making up for things,” I reminded him.
“I see you need to understand something,” he murmured.
Oh balls.
Not me understanding something more.
He drew me up his body so we were face to face and cupped the back of my head to bring us even closer.
“If there is ever a time when we are intimate, and I do not pleasure you, I have failed you,” he told me.
That was quite lovely.
Actually, beautiful.
However…
“There have been a number of times when we were intimate that I did not pleasure you, Mars,” I pointed out miserably.
“For you did not know how.”
“You were right earlier. I was being daft, thus thoughtless. I should have put it together.”
“You’ve had things on your mind.”
“And you are making excuses for me,” I grumbled.
“Silence.”
He said no more, so I asked, “What?”
“You must cease being so hard on yourself. You are glorious just the way you are. Those around you who are not blinded by their own faults see it clearly. It is only you who does not. I urge you to see yourself as I see you, amore, and have patience with yourself as I do, for I know you will be worth it. And I know this because you already are.”
I felt the need to weep at his words, but I did not give into it.
I lifted my hand to lay it against his bearded cheek and asked, “How is it that the fates gave me someone so marvelous?”
“I do not know the answer to that, even though I’ve often been asking myself the same thing.”
I felt my face crumble, and to hide it, I tucked it in his neck.
To fight back the tears, I mumbled, “Thank you for understanding.”
“Thank you, my bride, for liking my cock so much.”
I knew he was saying that to release the heaviness of our conversation.
And it worked.
I giggled.
He reached out and pulled a rug over us.
He then reached out and tugged the cord for a servant.
I moved my head out of his neck at that.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Calling a servant,” he told me what I already knew.
“I know, but why?”
“I do not feel like getting up, and the fire needs stirred and fed,” he answered. “What I do feel like is eating my wife’s cunt, which I will do, once the fire is stirred and fed.”
I squirmed against him, shocked at his frank language, but nevertheless aroused by it.
I saw the satisfaction hit his face at my response, but he did not make note of it.
He continued, “Then we will nap. After that, we will have dinner abed. And after that, you will please me again, while I please you. And a servant needs to know our plans as they will be required to feed us.”