Luca
Ifeel like I’m in a haze. It feels better than being high, better than any sex I’ve ever had in my life, better than anything I ever imagined. I just came harder than I think I ever have before. However, I’m still rock hard, moaning with pleasure at the feeling of Sofia’s tight pussy fluttering around me from her orgasm. I can still taste her on my lips, the scent of her surrounding me, and I don’t want to stop. Ican’tstop, and I keep thrusting inside of her, pushing myself up to look down at her as I rock my hips slowly, savoring the feeling of her wet, velvet heat sliding along the length of my cock again and again.
I can’t let her go.It’s half the reason I don’t want to stop fucking her, because I feel that somehow if I stop, if I pull out of her, if I go to sleep—when I wake up, she won’t be here anymore. She’ll be in her own room, or she’ll be gone, lost forever. It’s a ridiculous, delirious thought, but I’ve stopped trying to make sense of it since the moment I stepped on the plane back home.
This is all I wanted.
I don’t want it to end.
Don’t stop.
I lose track of how long it goes on. I want to do more than just fuck her like this, in missionary, but I don’t want to slip out of her long enough to change positions. I keep thrusting, long and slow, kissing her over and over again until, at last, she tightens around me and cries out again. I feel my cock start to throb as I spill my cum into her again for the second time, shuddering as I wrap my arms around her and bring her with me as I roll onto my side, her leg wrapping over mine.
We fall asleep after that for a little while, my half-hard cock still inside of her. Sofia’s head is tucked under mine, her face pressed against my chest, and I can feel the warmth of her breath against my skin.
I’ve never done this before. I’ve had women sleep over a handful of times, when I was too worn out to bother calling them an Uber, but I’ve never held a woman in my arms after sex, never fallen asleep with someone else’s body pressed against mine. I never thought I would want to. I like my space, my giant bed, the ability to sprawl out, the king in his castle.
I hadn’t thought I’d ever find a woman who I’d want to be the queen of it, too.
When I wake up again, Sofia stirring against my chest, the clock reads five in the morning. At some point, she’d rolled over, nestled against me so that I’m spooning her. As her back arches slightly, and her ass pushes back against my groin, I feel my already partially erect cock harden completely, my balls aching as I grind against her without thinking.
Sofia moans, her head falling back against my shoulder. “Again?” she asks sleepily, her voice light and teasing even half-asleep, and my cock throbs.
“Yes,” I growl and reach down to angle myself between her legs, moaning as the head of my cock slips easily inside of her. She’s so wet, her body hot and eager for me, and I thrust up into her with one stroke, seating myself to the hilt as I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her against me.
“Oh god, this feels so good,” Sofia whimpers, and I feel a rush of lust as I remember that she’s never done any of this before, that everything we do together will be new for her. No one has ever made her come with his tongue like I did last night. No one has ever fucked her like this. It drives me wild, my balls tight and painful with the need to come as I slide one arm underneath her head so that I can drape it over her shoulder, playing with her nipple as I slide the other hand between her legs and start to rub her clit, pinching it lightly with every thrust.
The feeling of her squirming in my arms, arching against me as I play with her, exploring her body as my cock sinks into her again and again, is better than anything I’d imagined—and I’d imagined quite a bit. This time I go more slowly, both of us still lazy with sleep as I push her towards a climax, holding my own back until I feel her back arch deeply, her mouth falling open as her hair spills over my chest, her head pressing into my shoulder as she grinds into my hand and moans loudly, her pussy fluttering around me as she comes.
“Fuck—” I groan against her shoulder as I thrust up, my cock throbbing as a flood of cum erupts from me, filling her for the—oh fuck, I don’t even know. I’ve lost track of how many times we’ve fucked now.
We fall asleep again like that, and when we wake up, I roll her onto her back. She whimpers a little when I enter her, and I can tell that she’s sore. “Do you want me to stop?” I ask gently, and Sofia shakes her head, wrapping her arms around my neck.
“No,” she whispers, and I groan as I sink into her again, my body already tensing in anticipation of another orgasm.
It’s nine o’clock before I finally relent and sit up, hitting the switch to open the blinds and flood the room with light. “We need to get up. We should check on Caterina and Ana, and I need to talk to Raoul—”
Sofia sits up slowly, wrapping her arms around herself as the sunlight fills the room. I can see the reality of last night settling over her again, and my stomach clenches. I can easily imagine things going back to the way they were before in the harsh light of day. I can easily imagine her willingness last night being a fluke.
I’m not letting her go. She’s mine, now more than ever. My wife.
But if she doesn’t want me, there’s nothing I can do short of forcing her. And if I couldn’t do that before—
I definitely can’t now that I’ve known what it’s like to have her willing, to have her give herself completely to me without reservation, the thing I’d dreamed of since I’d held her, a spitting, clawing hellcat bent on escape, that first night.
I clear my throat. “If you want to shower first—”
“What was that?” Sofia turns to face me, pulling the sheet up to cover her breasts as she looks at me with those wide, dark eyes. “Last night. You—what was that?”
My first instinct is to go cold, to tell her that it was nothing. That I was angry that someone had dared to try to hurt what was mine. That I took advantage of her, that I used her vulnerability to get what I wanted.
I could shut all of this down with a few well-placed words. I could put a divide between us that would never be able to be crossed again and save us both the pain of trying to make this work.
Because really, how is it ever going to work in the end? I’m not a man who was made to love. Not someone who can give her what she really needs, what shedeservesfrom a husband.
But she’s stuck with me.
You could at least try.