Page 68 of Lord of the Underworld

Her holding onto the shelves as I fucked her from behind.

Balanced precariously on the window seat.

Instead, I say, "Good idea."

The quilt is warm from the fire, it's thick, so we can kneel on it. I slide my fingers through her hair, tugging slightly so that she looks up at me. "I love you."

Her jaw drops. "What?"

"I love you." I say it slower, watching the shock fade and tears fill her eyes. Happy tears. I think. Her lips open and I run my thumb along them. "Don't say it back," I ask gently. "Not now. It's important that I say this to you, that you hear that I love you without expectation of anything in return."

"Well, I didn't get you anything anywhere as good as this for Christmas," Oksana says with a wet little chuckle.

"It would be difficult to top," I agreed with a hint of a smile, cupping her face in my hands. I've always loved how she looks, framed by my fingers, rough and tattooed against her pale, unblemished skin.

Oksana pours her feelings into her kiss, pressing against me, her soft curves filling in the hard lines on me. My hand slides under her sweater and she laughs against my lips.

"You're not wearing a bra," I say, pleased. "Merry Christmas to me." I take her stiff nipple between two fingers and tug a little, just to hear her gasp. Reluctantly, I let go of her warm breast to explore further, pushing my hand under her skirt as she watches me with a sly little gleam in her eye. "Moy svet, you're not wearing panties, either," I growl, trying not to sound like a man ready to hoist his wife up and drop her on his cock.

There's a long, breathy sigh from her when I run my finger through her center. The feel of her, so warm and already getting wet for me, has me hard enough to pound nails. Sliding her skirt up her thighs, I rasp, "Take me out."

Her hands go to my pants, struggling for a moment with my belt before getting my zipper open. I stifle a groan of relief as her cool fingers wrap around my cock, squeezing experimentally. "Hmm… You do know how to flatter a girl," she says, using her other hand to cup my balls.

"You may achieve what my legion of enemies can't," I groan. "You're going to kill me with those soft hands and your tight pussy."

"Not yet." She's nibbling her way down my neck. "We have to open presents first before you can leave this mortal coil." Every time my thumb brushes against her clit, she shudders, squeezing my cock tighter and if I don't get in her pussy, I'm going to embarrass myself. I push three fingers inside her, enjoying her rapturous little shiver.

"You're gripping my fingers," I whisper into her ear before biting her lobe. "If you don't loosen up, you won't be able to take me."

"Oh, I'll be able to," she whispers back. "I'm soaking. You're making a mess of me."

"Yebat'!" I growl, gripping her ass and lifting her. With a sinuous move of her hips, Oksana puts the head of my cock at her opening, just the tip pushing inside. I go back on my heels for leverage and lower her slowly, making her feel every one of the bars on my cock.

Arching her back, she presses the piercings where she wants them, her hips circling again. "I'll never get used to this," she moans. "How you feel when you push inside me. Those piercings, rubbing hard." She opens her eyes, looking at me seriously. "You're better than my fictional bad men. Even the dragon shifter."

I don't ever remember laughing like this. Certainly, not during sex.

My bride stares, wide-eyed, still impaled on me as I laugh and laugh and I'm equally shocked. It feels foreign, but cleansing and when it subsides, she has her arms around me, stroking my hair. “Now, I can function again,” I say. I lift her up and drop her again, my cock driving all the way into her and her heat envelopes me, her eager cunt squeezing my length.

"Fast, or slow?" I ask. "Tender or greedy?"

"All of it," she says instantly, and so I do, bouncing her up and down while she shrieks rapturously until I feel those first tell-tale squeezes, how she rubs her clit against me and I slow down as she bites me in frustration.

The warmth of the fire, the tiny lights strung through the room, and the scent of pine all blur together, everything cycling down to the feel of my bride wrapped around me, impatiently pushing against me, demanding her pleasure. "You're so different from that defensive girl I met that first night," I grunt, inching her down slowly on my cock, ignoring her frustrated little noises. "So beautiful, demanding that I make you come. Tell me, wife. How many times?"

"How many what?" Oksana moans, opening her eyes and trying to focus. Her pupils are blown wide, a thin circle of silver surrounding them.

"How many times do you want to come?" I say patiently.

"Can we start with one? Right now?"

Yanking her sweater off, I pull her up and fasten my lips around her nipple, biting it lightly as my hips move faster, bouncing her until she's breathless. She holds my gaze though, and I watch her as her entire body turns soft and liquid, her wet slicking my thighs as she comes. I stop for a minute, though my cock is very unhappy about it. Her breasts rub against me as she shakes a little and I wrap my arms around her until the last waves of her orgasm sweep over her.

"Ready for the second?" I ask, lowering her on her back, my cock deep inside her.

"Oh, okay," she slurs. "I'm a little cock drunk."

This sparks my second round of laughter for the holidays. We're slow this time, until I watch her second orgasm pass over her and she cries out as I pull out of her.