When those mesmerizing amber eyes locked onto her, she gasped, unable to handle his beauty, more so his soul shining through, which wrecked her essence.
So she tore her eyes and moved lower.
He stood before her, his body a canvas of ink and muscle, each mark on his skin telling a story she longed to unravel.
Her eyes traced the curves and lines of his glowing tattoos, mesmerized by the intricate patterns and the deep meaning behind every one.
Starting at his broad shoulders, where black pigment swirled in tribal shapes that hugged the corded slope of his neck.
Every scarification and score represented the lessons learned, the battles fought, the victories earned, and the raw power he held beneath that art.
The designs stretched down his arms, curling over the biceps that flexed as he moved. The blueprints shifted with him like they might lift off him at any moment, and her fingers itched to trace them.
His chest was a masterpiece, an expanse of skin adorned with symbols. The curves of his ribs, etched in Akkadian script, were inked to display his most profound beliefs, his core.
Some of his scars were jagged shapes, evidence of his ruthlessness and legendary fighting skills. She couldn’t help but admire that strength, how he wore his past pain with pride, not shame.
His stomach was firm and defined. The sinewed and veined hardness of his biceps and his hips left her breathless.
She reached a hand out in wonder and traced the heated, pulsing designs. ‘I’ve never seen a man more beautiful,’ she whispered.
On his solid legs, the patterns were more abstract, as if they were charting a path leading somewhere only he knew. His calves, too, were covered in ink.
She stood there, drinking him in and loving every inch of him, each mark and curve.
The glyphs and sigils didn’t just sit on his skin; they were part of him, flowing like blood and breath.
They made him more than a man; they transformed him into a living, breathing story. She was captivated by it all.
Then, her eyes fell to his groin.
Rising from it was his thick, veined cock.
So enormous it pulsed against his tummy, reaching beyond his belly button.
It was the first time she’d ever seen her husband in all his naked glory. She feasted her eyes on the incredible size of it and, even more mesmerizing, the glow from his cockhead.
It radiated under his skin and spread like wildfire, lighting up the scarred and inked designs all over his limbs, flaming along the lines of his tattooed scars.
‘How is this possible?’
‘It’s the Path of Inner Light, which inflames the cock when aroused,’ he rasped, his intonation husky with need. ‘For your endless pleasure.’
Unable to help herself, she eased her hand lower.
‘May I, myŠar?’ she breathed.
She didn’t wait for permission.
His eyes glittered down at her, groaning deep as she palmed and pumped his throbbing member in her hand, clasping his weeping length. ‘You are beyond incredible, my love.’
He gasped as she gripped him, alternating between hard and soft squeezes, while her other hand stroked the vein underneath before palming his heavy balls.
‘Šarratum,’ he called hoarsely as she tortured him with a smile on her face.
His face fell to her nape, and she moaned when he nipped her earlobe with his fangs.
A wave of rapture hit her, convulsing all over her, edging her closer to oblivion.
