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A small giggle escapes her. “You think you’ll be free by then?”
“Time’s ticking.” Mariah tilts her head to the side and widens her eyes, her soft locks falling across her left shoulder and the very tips grazing my chest. She looks like a saint but has the bite of the devil, and the princess doe-eyed look doesn’t convince me. “Under nine and a half.”
“I know,” she says against my lips before laying one last peck on them. Then the little deviant turns around and I groan out loud, the sound reverberating throughout every inch of this room. My little heathen isn’t wearing panties, but rather near nonexistent string between the two perky globes of her ass. It’s tight and when she bends forward, knees on either side of my head after scooting back, I’m greeted by another site that tests my will to give her the next few minutes to break me.
The fabric is taut over her pussy, her plump lips barely contained and they peek out. I lick my lips, my mouth watering while she lowers herself and her breath fans over the head of my cock. From my vantage point, I can enjoy the sight of those luscious lips on my cock and smell her arousal—I can fuck her with my tongue while my Muñeca writhes in pleasure, all the while believing she has the upper hand.
Her tongue slides through the slit at the tip and she hums, the sound traveling through my body and I groan, turning my head to study her knotwork. There are three of them, one on top of the other, and the last isn’t as tight as the rest.
I yank, and the fabric groans a bit but doesn’t budge. What I do notice is that the movement of my hand made the bind tighten, then loosen as the smooth texture doesn’t contain the hold she was trying to achieve.
“Seven minutes and thirteen seconds,” I hiss out as the heat of her mouth envelops me. She’s playing dirty. Moaning above me while those thick hips gyrate, bringing her pussy closer and then pulling back out of my reach.
“I love the way you feel on my tongue.” Licking the underside, Mariah takes me halfway down and then holds me there, right on her tongue and just shy of kissing the back of her throat. Her cheeks hollow and I give a hard tug to my binds, the fabric digging in but stretching to its limits. The first tear doesn’t catch her attention, however it’s enough for me to be able to grip the end of the pretty bow there and undo it. The next two aren’t hard to remove either. “Tan rico, mi Papi.”
“How delicious?” Not that she answers. My girl loves to suck my cock, and she loses focus, enough so that I have the next scarf off, and my hands are gripping her hips. “Answer me.”
And she does with a cry of pleasure when I force her pussy back on my tongue, tasting her without mercy. I’m not gentle when I bite her inner thigh or when my hand lands on her right asscheek, earning a whimper and a harsh swallow around my girth.
“Oh, my fuck.” It’s garbled, her throat muscles working my length. My hips pump into her throat as my mouth devours her pussy with rough strokes of my tongue, and when I dip the tip into her tiny hole, Mariah’s opening tightens, trying to pull me in deeper. Bad little doll.
Another loud smack, then another. Her flesh heats beneath my fingertips, hips moving over my mouth in a sensuous dance as pleasure spreads, but I won’t let her come.
No. Not like this.
Before my wife can protest, I have her fall forward with that ass up high. She tries to move, but my grip on her hips won’t let her. She whimpers, but I give no fucks and grip her hair in one hand, well, as much as I can from my position.
“Unlock me.”
“No.”
“Do it.”
“I said…oh, God!” The hard pinch to her clit makes her react—scrambling to undo the metal cuffs with the key still inside one of them. Moreover, before she can take in a breath, I rise to my knees behind her with one of the scarves in my hand.
“You’ve been bad.”
“And you don’t follow the rules,” she counters, yelping at the end as I land a hard smack to the area where ass and thigh meet. “There’s still three minutes...Oh, shit!”
“Time’s up.” I sink inside in one fluid motion, bottoming out and holding her still. Her thighs tremble and her eyes close. She’s milking my cock with pulsing walls, so lost in the feel of me—how I stretch her—that she doesn’t see my intent.
I grab her arms and pull them back, tying the soft fabric around her wrist tight. Mariah looks at me from over her shoulder, eyes hooded and sharp rebuttal on her tongue, but doesn’t get to utter a single syllable as I ride her like a beast.
She’s my prisoner.
Unable to do more than try to breathe while my cock punches in and out, fucking her roughly with fast slams of my hips. There’s no pause, and I use the leverage of her arms in one of my hands to push her further down into the mattress.
And fuck me, is she beautiful when she groans at the change in angle, biting the sheets with her eyes closed. I see it all on the mirror across from the bed...
The pleasure in her face. The goose bumps on her sweat-slick skin. The pretty way her lips say my name.
“Javier, I’m so close. Jesus, it’s almost too much.”
Leaning over her, I embed my teeth in the back of her neck. “It’s never enough.”
Her walls squeeze me as I fuck her through every pulse, every throb of pleasure as she lays flat under me with no strength left. In the house, all you can hear is the slam, slam, slam of skin and the moans that slip from parted lips.
There’s sweat on our bodies. There’s the scent—our scent—surrounding us, and I’m blind to the world because nothing exists outside of our bubble.
