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“Since when have you been saving? This place is magnificent!” I say, running my fingertips over the heavy brocade material of the curtains and looking out at the small canal below our window where gondolas and small boats are gliding in the distance.
“I’ve been saving since I decided I wanted to marry you,” he says, walking to a discreet bar against the far wall and pouring a drink.
My eyebrow quirks, and leaning back against the windowsill, I ask, “When did you decide that, exactly?”
“After the first time you sucked my cock,” he says, sitting on a scarlet velvet love seat in front of the canopied queen-size bed.
I stride towards him. “You didn’t! We were at that bar, and you barely knew me,” I say as I sink down to my knees, leveraging myself on his.
Jon moves closer, stroking a thumb over my cheek, his eyes demanding all of my attention, before saying, “I knew that the man who could make me smile and want to come within seconds of having his mouth on me was worth keeping.”
“Baby…” I say, feeling immensely pleased at his words, and I focus on Jon’s thumb gliding from my cheek to rest on my bottom lip before tipping my chin, my eyes locked with his stormy grey ones.
“I wonder if a blowjob feels different when you get one from your husband?” he asks, his smile wicked as he beams down at me.
My cock is hard, and I can’t help but lick my lips and shift my legs between his to try and alleviate the tightness in my jeans.
“Wanna know a secret?” I ask as my hands caress his thick thighs until I reach the apex. Clawing at the material, I feel his cock straining against the zipper.
“Sure, baby,” he replies, lifting his hips invitingly as I keep up the light strokes over his hard length.
“I wanted to belong to you from the first time you kissed me on the dance floor and led me into that bathroom stall, and showed me the monster you keep locked up in your jeans,” I say, biting my bottom lip and feeling Jon’s dick kick against my hand.
“So, it really is my cock you fell in love with first,” he says, his head leaning back, enjoying the light teasing.
“Absolutely,” I reply, swiftly pulling the zipper down, and watch as Jon lifts his hips, wishing he was already thrusting into my mouth. Wanting to feel his balls heavy on my tongue as he hums his pleasure.
I tease one finger over his throbbing length, still encased in navy boxer briefs.
“David,” he warns, his voice strained and gravelly. We haven’t had sex since our wedding night two days ago. And for us, that’s a long time without being intimate—and I really hope Jon loses control. I can’t remember a day we were together that there wasn’t some form of play involved—even if it was only a sexy handjob in the shower before work or after a workout.
“Just relax, baby. I’m gonna give you the best blowjob ever. Promise,” I tease, but I can’t stop staring at his big dick throbbing and contained in the navy cotton. He pulls the material up and over his dick—and I gasp—like literally fucking gasp at it.
Jon’s cock is beautiful; there is no other way to describe it. His crown is blush-pink and thick, girthy and veiny, and pulling his foreskin back, he is already weeping sweet pre-cum. This is my favourite part, teasing him until he’s straining in my hand and mouth until he loses control and takes everything I have.
Jon is a thoughtful man, a good man, but when his restraint is snapped … he is a fucking beast. I’ve been addicted to him after the first taste of his cock—and his control.
I love hearing him moan. Love feeling him buck and throb against my tongue. Just love the fuck out of this man—my husband.
Laving the crown of his cock, I lick up the small, sweet pearl of pre-cum, before taking the head into my mouth and slowly working the big cock down my throat.
Jon rakes his fingers through my hair before gripping my neck and forcing my head back so he can see my eyes as I swallow him down.
He groans his pleasure, and I swirl my tongue, tracing the veins running up and down his dick. I feel his thighs tense, giving me a sense of power I am addicted to. Knowing that I can give Sir pleasure is an aphrodisiac, and trusting that he’ll give the same pleasure back to me ten-fold. Knowing that I am the only man who has ever loved him this way, and forever will, is perfection.
Relaxing my jaw, I take him deep, gagging on his cock; I feel my own kick against my jeans. Closing my eyes, I hum my satisfaction as Jon’s grip on my hair tightens, and he grunts, picking up the pace as he starts fucking my face.
His hips thrust up from the ruby-red velvet seat to fill me, spit running from the corners of my mouth. I open my eyes to watch the pleasure etched on his face. He is the picture of erotic ecstasy.
Giving myself up to my husband’s needs, I swallow the hot spurts of cum down my throat—taking everything he gives me.
Loosening his grip on my hair, Jon wraps his fingers around my throat, and I feel completely owned. But now, without Jon’s cock down my throat, my painfully hard dick is taking my focus away from him.
“Do you want to come, my Prince?” Jon asks seductively from above me.
I can only nod; he knows what it does to me when he calls me his Prince.
“Take off your clothes and lay down before me,” he instructs. His cock is still beautiful and thick, and looking up, I see him smiling. He knows I’m in love with his cock and that I can’t stop looking at him when he is exposed.
