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My hands grabbed his ass, and he let me control his movements.
"You look so fucking beautiful taking my cock. So, fucking…God, baby, suck a little harder."
I pulled away and then let him back in. It was agonizingly wonderful to hear his rasping breath, his grunts of pleasure.
"You’re wet,ma douce." His voice was hoarse and tight.
I nodded.
"Spread your legs. Let me see."
For some reason, I didn't feel shy. I widened my thighs, and he moaned again, his head tilted so he could see my pussy. "I can see you're wet. Play with your clit, baby. I want to see you come as I fuck your mouth; see your lips wrapped around me."
I sucked on him harder.
"I'm gonna come, Elsa." His voice was hard. He was excited and it made me feel proud. "I want you to swallow it all. Will you do that for me?"
I had no idea where my courage came from, and I nodded.
"Good girl. All of it, okay. God, baby." His eyes were hooded as we continued to look at each other.
My finger on my clit was making me twitch. I could feel the forerunners of my orgasm, but it was more than my hand that was making me reach for release; it was watching my husband enjoy me.
I swirled my tongue around his cock, teasing him, controlling him.
"Just like that.Just like that," he chanted.
His started to grunt now; and he began to move faster.
I feel like a sex Goddess, and my gasps become louder, coming from deep within me. I closed my eyes when he growled, "No. Let me see. I want to see. Open your fucking eyes."
I did as he asked. After that first night when he'd made love in French, I had wondered how it would be to make love in English—and I preferred him like this, losing control, unable to string words together.
He poured into my throat right as I unraveled. It was amazing and brutal, dirty and pure.
"Open your mouth, baby, let me see," he pleaded as he held his dick, painting my lips with his cum.
I did as he asked and he moaned, "Such a good girl. You swallowed it all?”
I couldn't. Some semen dripped down my chin. He didn't taste as bad as I thought he would. He didn't taste good either, however, it wasn't unpleasant. But really, it didn't matter because the biggest turn-on was how he had been at mercy.
His breathing remained erratic as he pushed me to lie down. "Move up," he growled. "I want to eat my pussy."
My pussy?
I wanted to bristle at his possessiveness and show him I was a feminist, but it was delicious to be owned by him.
"Since I blewmy cock," I smiled languidly, "you can haveyour pussy."
His eyes glinted with pleasure. "My cockisyours. The bastard is enamored. Doesn't want anyone but you."
He crawled between my legs, and I waited, anticipation making my nerve endings scream. I loved how he tasted me, how he made me come with his tongue.
He dragged his nose over my pussy and then kissed my quivering flesh gently, almost reverently. He placed both his hands on my inner thighs, spreading me, holding me open for him. He didn't give me time to think. Almost, instantly, his tongue was on my clit, circling it, teasing me. He dragged his tongue over my slit, gently nibbling and biting just a little harder without warning. I was delirious, wanting desperately to come but also not too fast. I didn't want this to stop. I wanted to keep feeling this euphoria, this mindlessness.
He put a hand on my stomach, cupping our baby.
"Your pussy is darker since you got pregnant," he mumbled against my heated wet flesh, "so fucking beautiful."
