My teeth abandon her center to scrape over her inner thigh. She trembles like I’ve bitten her. So fragile, my tough girl.
“Daddy,” she whimpers.
That’s it. That’s my girl.
I tear her panties aside, and taste her. She cries out, hips bucking, hands fisting in my hair. Sweet. Perfect. Mine.
I feast on her like a starving man, licking, sucking, groaning into her until she’s panting my name. Begging me to finish her.
“Please—” she gasps.
I pull back, lips wet, beard damp with her arousal.
“Please what, pretty girl?”
Her eyes are wild with desire, her hair is unraveling, and she’s halfway out of her dress. This is no gentle deflowering. This is a claiming.
“I need you. Please, Daddy.”
I stand, dragging her up with me. That pretty wedding dress crumples to the floor and my shirt and tie follow suit. She’s almost bare before me but it’s not enough. I want it all gone. No lace. No fabric. Nothing between us when I make her mine for the first time.
“Bed,” I growl. “Now.”
She hesitates before darting past me and into the bedroom. I’m a breath behind her, two of her cats nipping at my heels but I beat them to the door and then it’s just me and my girl.
“Let me see those perky tits.”
Bright red colors her pale cheeks but she obeys. First one bra strap slips over her shoulder and then the other. Her tits are small, but I fucking love them. I don’t wait for her to undo the band. I stride forward, closing the distance between us, and cover them with my palms. Hard nipples press into my hands but the supple flesh beneath my fingers is soft. When I squeeze them gently her head lolls back. A wanton moan slips between her dusky lips, and I grapple for the last thread of my patience as I tease her nipples with my fingers and then my mouth.
Somewhere between her bra dropping to the floor and sucking her nipples into my mouth we found our way to the bed. My girl looks so fucking good stretched out with her hair wild, and her makeup smeared while I bring her pleasure.
“Show me how much you want me.”
My fingers find her hot and wet, her slick arousal coating them as I give her a tiny taste of what’s to come. She clamps down on one finger, her muscles squeezing it like a vice while she arches her back and comes with a low husky moan.
I don’t let her come down. My second finger enters her with care, her inner walls still fluttering, as she rides out her first orgasm.
“You can take another,” I say as I add a third finger.
“Cole—” Her voice cracks on my name, the rest of her words lost as I thrust into her. No matter. I know what she wants. What she needs.
I tease her higher, the rhythmic motion of my fingers pumping into her bring her to the edge once again.
But I don’t let her go over.
She complains when I remove my fingers, but stops once I settle between her thighs. The head of my cock slides between her folds and I nearly black out. Leaning over her, I peer into the soul of a woman who doesn’t need a potion or a spell to ensnare my love. Her claim on me is greater than any kind of magic, tangible or spiritual. I’ll love her until the day I die, and if there is an afterlife, I’ll love her until the end of time.
“You want your husband to fuck you?” I rasp against her ear.
“Yes,” she whispers. Then realizing her mistake she eagerly adds, “Yes, Daddy.”
I slam into her in one hard stroke. Too fast, too rushed for her first time. But she doesn’t complain. Her pussy greedily clenches around me, and I grip her hips to keep from losing control as she milks my cock. Fuck. It’s too much. It’s too good. The feel of her wrapped around me is better than anything else. I could kick my own ass for denying us this connection for so long.
“Fuck, Sabrina—”
“Harder.” Her voice is broken, needy. “Don’t you dare hold back.”
I don’t. I pound into her, every thrust driving my claim deeper, until the whole apartment echoes with her cries. She’s wild, pushing back against me, nails clawing my back and then ripping the sheets as she begs for more.
