Page 100 of Jetmir

“Yes,” I murmured, my fingers digging into his ass while anticipation hummed between my thighs, an aching need for him consuming me. “Now fuck me.”

He pressed his lips against mine.

“No more fucking,” he rasped. “Now we make love.”

“Anything you want, husband,” I choked, causing his eyes to darken. Passion and love burned in them, setting me aflame.

I could feel his hard shaft poised at my entrance, and my pussy clenching for more of him. Our gazes lowered and we watched where our bodies connected. Two becoming one.

There was something so erotic about seeing the tip barely inside me. It turned my breathing erratic.

“Ohhh,” I moaned, raising my hips, feeling him slide deeper.

He lowered his forehead against mine as I lifted my hips to encourage him. “Please,” I panted. “Don’t make me wait.”

“Your wish is my command, wife,” he choked out around an anguished chuckle.

His hand curved at my nape as he brought my head up. Holding my gaze, he nudged his hard cock deeper into my entrance. He pushed his hips forward, the shallow thrust drawing moans and whimpers from my lips.

He pressed his lips against my mouth and I parted for him, welcoming him in. A noise unlike any other punched from the depths of my soul as he began to move.

“My sin. My salvation,” he murmured against me. His kiss turned punishing as he bit and sucked. “You feel so good, my angel.”

I lifted my ass, needing more of him. He entered me slowly, and I clenched down hard, adjusting to his size.

“So fucking tight,” he breathed out in a raspy voice. “Fuck, I can feel your pussy strangling my cock. So fucking good.”

His dirty words turned me feral with need. Thorne was the man for me. He was the only one I wanted. It had always been him.

“I love you so fucking much, my angel,” he grunted. “You’re my life.”

Warmth blossomed in my heart, searing his name on my soul.

He continued to move slowly, deeper, but I didn’t want slow. I wanted hard and fast. I needed him to send me over the edge. As if he heard my thoughts, he rammed into me, filling me completely. Then he stilled and my nails dug into his shoulders, urging him on.

“P-please,” I panted. My heart pounded against my ribs and blood rushed through my veins. “I need you.”

“Fuck. Your pussy feels like home,” he muttered with a grunt. “My perfect wife.”

His hips moved; his eyes locked on mine. Shuddering breaths mixed with his groans, and a mix of every emotion swelled in my chest. Everything about him was thrilling, tempting, so exhilarating.

I relished the friction created by our sweat-slicked skin. As I stared at his face, his eyelids lowered. There was burning hunger there, and it spurred me on.

“More, Thorne,” I begged.

He started to move faster, pumping in and out of me. The sense of being overwhelmed in the best possible way flooded me. I gave in to it, my back bowing off the bed to meet his thrusts.

“You take me so good,” he rasped as he thrust even deeper. His one hand moved between our bodies, and the moment his finger touched my clit, circling it hard and fast, pleasure shot through me, sending me spiraling.

Crying out his name, I succumbed to the surge of pleasure and the languid heat that drowned out every other sensation. His hips worked like pistons, thrusting into me, through my orgasm, and my clenching pussy until I could feel him everywhere.

“Anya,” he growled, throwing his head back.

His mouth parted as his muscles seized and he spilled himself inside of me. His cock twitched, and before long his cum was leaking out of my pussy.

He buried his head in the crook of my neck, his breathing matching my own. Two hearts beating as one.

After several moments, his eyes searched out mine, and I looked up at him. He lowered his mouth for a kiss, the gentlest brush of his lips. I wanted to stay like this forever, joined as one, belonging to him and only him.