She practically jumps off the mattress when my mouth makes contact. "Cassio! No, you don't have to—"
"I want to," I growl against her slick folds, my hands gripping her thighs to hold her still. "I want to taste my wife."
I circle her with my tongue, finding the swollen, hypersensitive nub of her clitoris. She tastes incredible, a heady, intoxicating mix of her natural sweetness and the metallic tang of her innocence. I worship her, swirling my tongue, applying gentle suction, feeling the way her hips begin to buck uncontrollably against my mouth.
Her hands tangle in my dark hair, but she isn't pushing me away anymore. Her fingers grip the strands, holding me exactly where I am as her breathing turns into ragged, desperate gasps.
"Cassio," she moans, the sound is completely unfiltered, stripped of her usual sharp edges.
"Tell me who you belong to," I demand, lifting my head just enough to watch her face.
She is tossing her head side to side, her eyes are glazed over, she is entirely at my mercy. "Please," she begs, completely ignoring the question.
"Tell me," I repeat, dipping two fingers into her slick heat, slowly stretching the tight, torn entrance that just halted my advance.
She whimpers at the slight sting, but the overwhelming pleasure of my thumb returning to her clitoris drowns it out. I pump my fingers in and out of her, preparing the tight sheath for the massive size of my erection.
"You," she moans, her back arching off the bed. "I belong to you."
"Fucking right you do," I vow.
I pull my fingers free and move back up her body. I am fully, painfully hard, a desperate ache radiating through my groin, but I force myself to maintain absolute control. I align myself with her slick entrance once more.
I brace my weight on my forearms, hovering over her, looking directly into her eyes.
"Deep breath, Noemi," I whisper.
I press forward. The resistance is still there, the tightness is almost excruciating for both of us, but this time, I don't force it. I slide into her with agonizing slowness, letting her body stretch to accommodate me, inch by inch.
She cries out, her nails digging into my back, her eyes squeezing shut.
"Open your eyes," I rasp, my jaw clenched so tight the muscles in my neck strain. I am halfway inside her, encased in a heat so tight it feels like a physical vice. "Open them. I want you to look at me while I make you mine."
Her eyelashes flutter open. Tears blur her vision, but she holds my gaze.
I push the rest of the way in, burying myself to the hilt.
A guttural, primitive groan tears from my chest. The sensation of being completely encased inside her, knowing that no other man has ever occupied this space, that I am the architect of her ruin and her pleasure, is a high that no drug on earth could ever replicate.
We hold still for a long, agonizing moment. I let her body adjust, feeling the frantic flutter of her internal muscles gripping me.
"Does it still hurt?" I ask, my voice is tight with strain.
"It’s full," she whispers, her hands sliding up my chest to wrap around my neck. "It feels... so full."
"It’s mine," I remind her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
I begin to move.
I pull back slowly, almost sliding completely out, before driving forward again with careful precision. The tight friction is absolute torture, dragging a hiss of breath through my teeth with every stroke.
At first, she is tense, her face is drawn in slight discomfort. But as I set a steady, rhythmic pace, the pain begins to recede, replaced by the heavy, building pressure of the pleasure I prepared her for. Her hips begin to lift, chasing my thrusts, a natural, instinctive reaction that makes my control begin to violently fracture.
"That's it,moglie," I encourage her, my pace quickening. "Take it. Take your husband."
Her breath hitches, the whimpers turning into soft, breathy moans that fill the silent bedroom. I slide one hand beneath her lower back, tilting her pelvis up to deepen the angle, hitting a spot inside her that makes her entire body jolt.
"Cassio!" she cries out, her eyes flying wide open.