Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 133138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Happy wife, happy life. That’s the advice I’ve been given most frequently. Seems easy enough because my only goal is to make Autumn happy.
I strip and lie on the bed. It’s fancy as hell, a golden four-poster canopy bed in the middle of a large, white, luxurious honeymoon suite. It’s part of Jacqueline’s wedding gift of ‘a honeymoon to remember’ for Autumn and me. But then the bathroom door opens and I don’t care if I’m in the most elegant room or the most primitive. All that matters is . . . Autumn.
She’s nude as she said, wearing only her ring and necklace, but there’s a thick band of lace high on her thigh. I want to trace it with my tongue and then rip it off with my teeth.
Autumn crosses the room toward me, and I grow even more erect, standing up proudly before her. She licks her lips as she crawls onto the bed, coming up to straddle me. She sits on me, pressing my cock to my abdomen instead of impaling herself on me. I can feel the heat of her juices coating the length of my shaft.
Gripping her hips, I move her up and down, teasing us both.
She leans forward, her hair falling around us in a curtain of red silk and her necklace dangling between us. Her kiss is slow, an unhurried exploration of my mouth as though we haven’t kissed hundreds of times before, and I return the teasing build, slowing the movement of her hips.
We’re passionate, panting and breathing in one another’s air as we kiss. It’s my favorite thing to do with Autumn, though hearing her cries of pleasure as she comes on me is a close second. Actually, that might be first. My cock jumps at the memory of how wild Autumn can be when she fully releases, and I need it. Now.
“Princesse, please.” It’s a beg, I’ll admit, but it’s growled with deep hunger.
She flips her hair over one shoulder, putting her weight onto one arm to take me in hand. Standing me upright, she aligns herself with me. “I love you, husband,” she says sweetly.
“I love you, wiiiiife.” I mean to return the sweet words, knowing it will get her off as much as it does me, but Autumn sinks her bliss down onto me, taking all thought and word formation skills from my brain.
Engulfing all of me in her warmth and wetness, she begins to move, sliding up and down my shaft at an unhurried pace.
I murmur to her in French as I pinch and pluck her nipples, reach between us to circle her clit with my thumb, and lay a sharp smack to the flesh of her hip.
Tobias once told Autumn that a man has three women—his wife, his mistress, and his whore. I am the lucky bastard who has found all three in one woman. Autumn is everything I could ever want and more. The brilliant, loving partner. The fun, adventurous spirit. And the wanton slut up for anything. She is all this and more, and my job—no, my pleasure—is to make her happy.
She rides me, her nails digging into my chest. “That’s right. Make sure everyone knows who I belong to. Mark up my chest, cover me with your juices, and if you’d like, bite my shoulder.”
I wiggle my shoulder temptingly, knowing she can’t resist a little nibble as she comes, especially when she’s on top.
Tonight, she shatters. I can feel the flutters of her walls around me, and she pitches forward, burying her face in my neck. Her muffled cries vibrate against my neck, and though she doesn’t bite, I feel the edge of her teeth at my skin.
When she begins to slow, I press the soles of my feet into the bed for leverage and lift my hips into the air. I thrust up into her, and she bounces onto me, taking me deeper and deeper.
“Oh, Simon . . . I can feel you . . . everywhere.” Autumn’s moans and grunts guide me, and I angle so that she can feel me exactly where she wants me, deep inside her core. “Give it to me. Fill me up with your cum. I want it, want you to paint me with it.”
It’s too much. The happiness of the day, the sexiness of my bride, and the filthiness of her mouth . . . I freeze, pinning her deeply impaled onto me, as jet after jet of my hot cum pours into her.
I shudder, my legs giving out, but I keep us locked together as I collapse to the bed.
“For love,” I gasp.
“For life,” Autumn answers.
Our eyes meet, and I can see the word forming in her mind before it teases over her lips. At the same time she speaks, I say, “Always.”
When she smiles, I add, “Next round, that ass is mine, Princesse.”