moisture to pool between my legs.
Licking my lips, I look into his smoky gaze. "Will you still make love to me?"
He responds by grabbing my hair by the roots and pulling my lips down on his. I sigh into him as his tongue delves deep into my mouth, thrusting, teasing, torturing.
His hands are underneath my shirt and then beneath my bra. He squeezes my breasts and pinches my nipples so hard they burn. I don't know whether I should push him away or beg him for more.
Chests heaving, we pull away from each other. One look in his smoldering eyes, and I know he's as aroused as I am. The currents of desire that shoot through me are more powerful than anything I've ever felt before. I briefly wonder if my lust is another side effect of pregnancy, but I'm too damn horny to care.
We can't get each other naked fast enough. I'm pulling down his jeans and he's ripping off my shirt like our clothes are on fire. I kick the rest of our discarded clothes to the floor and wrap my hand around his magnificent erection as it springs from his underwear. Then his mouth is on my bare breasts, suckling one nipple, then swirling his tongue around the other. I clench his hair while he continues to trace kisses downward. His mouth lingers on my abdomen, and he strokes and kisses it with such tenderness, I nearly weep all over again.
Whatever fear I have about him not wanting this baby melts away as he pulls me into his embrace and carries me to the bedroom.
He lies down on the bed and I straddle his face. He drives his tongue into me until I think I may explode in his mouth. My juncture is dripping wet and thrumming with need, the need to feel Andrés inside of me. I pull away from his torturous tongue and climb down his body, wasting no time sliding onto him.
I ride up and down his slick erection while panting into his mouth. I'm not slow. I'm not gentle. I know I'll be sore tomorrow, but I don't care. He begs me to stop, but I fear I may die if I don't continue. He cries out, and then his shaft pulses inside me like a heartbeat, unraveling my remaining threads of resistance. I give into the euphoric waves and fall limp against his chest as the orgasm consumes me, sending vibrations arcing from my core all the way to the tips of my toes.
I let out a startled cry as Andrés flips me over and latches onto my neck with his teeth. He drives into me, hard, ramming against my swollen center. A bead of sweat rolls off his forehead and onto my cheek as he lifts my leg over his shoulder. I lift the other leg and cry out as he buries his entire length inside me. The pressure from his thick head pounding against my aching channel is enough to make me come undone again, and again.
We make love with abandon well into the night. His kisses burn, his touch ignites, and his long, hard cock driving into me enflames. I never knew playing with fire could feel so good.
I'm vaguely aware of Andrés washing between my legs before fatigue overwhelms me. I want badly to beg him to sleep with me tonight, but I'm so tired, keeping my eyes open is too much of a struggle, and I can't even form the words to speak.
He whispers goodnight into my ear, and his lips brush my temple. My heart aches when I feel his weight lift from the bed. I know he wants to keep me safe, but my last coherent thought before I surrender to fatigue is that sleeping in separate rooms is no way to start off a marriage.
Chapter Seven
Christina
I wake up to the smell of frying bacon. At least I think it's bacon. Whatever it is, it's got a pungent undertone. I hope the bacon isn't rotten. That's the last thing I need to eat right now. I sit up and instantly regret it. I might have moved too fast because the room tilts to one side.
Shit. Not this again.
I close my eyes and wait for the dizziness to subside. Luckily, the room is back to normal when I open my eyes, but I still feel kind of queasy. I heave myself out of bed and groan as pain lances up my side.
Damn bruise. When is it going to stop
Licking my lips, I look into his smoky gaze. "Will you still make love to me?"
He responds by grabbing my hair by the roots and pulling my lips down on his. I sigh into him as his tongue delves deep into my mouth, thrusting, teasing, torturing.
His hands are underneath my shirt and then beneath my bra. He squeezes my breasts and pinches my nipples so hard they burn. I don't know whether I should push him away or beg him for more.
Chests heaving, we pull away from each other. One look in his smoldering eyes, and I know he's as aroused as I am. The currents of desire that shoot through me are more powerful than anything I've ever felt before. I briefly wonder if my lust is another side effect of pregnancy, but I'm too damn horny to care.
We can't get each other naked fast enough. I'm pulling down his jeans and he's ripping off my shirt like our clothes are on fire. I kick the rest of our discarded clothes to the floor and wrap my hand around his magnificent erection as it springs from his underwear. Then his mouth is on my bare breasts, suckling one nipple, then swirling his tongue around the other. I clench his hair while he continues to trace kisses downward. His mouth lingers on my abdomen, and he strokes and kisses it with such tenderness, I nearly weep all over again.
Whatever fear I have about him not wanting this baby melts away as he pulls me into his embrace and carries me to the bedroom.
He lies down on the bed and I straddle his face. He drives his tongue into me until I think I may explode in his mouth. My juncture is dripping wet and thrumming with need, the need to feel Andrés inside of me. I pull away from his torturous tongue and climb down his body, wasting no time sliding onto him.
I ride up and down his slick erection while panting into his mouth. I'm not slow. I'm not gentle. I know I'll be sore tomorrow, but I don't care. He begs me to stop, but I fear I may die if I don't continue. He cries out, and then his shaft pulses inside me like a heartbeat, unraveling my remaining threads of resistance. I give into the euphoric waves and fall limp against his chest as the orgasm consumes me, sending vibrations arcing from my core all the way to the tips of my toes.
I let out a startled cry as Andrés flips me over and latches onto my neck with his teeth. He drives into me, hard, ramming against my swollen center. A bead of sweat rolls off his forehead and onto my cheek as he lifts my leg over his shoulder. I lift the other leg and cry out as he buries his entire length inside me. The pressure from his thick head pounding against my aching channel is enough to make me come undone again, and again.
We make love with abandon well into the night. His kisses burn, his touch ignites, and his long, hard cock driving into me enflames. I never knew playing with fire could feel so good.
I'm vaguely aware of Andrés washing between my legs before fatigue overwhelms me. I want badly to beg him to sleep with me tonight, but I'm so tired, keeping my eyes open is too much of a struggle, and I can't even form the words to speak.
He whispers goodnight into my ear, and his lips brush my temple. My heart aches when I feel his weight lift from the bed. I know he wants to keep me safe, but my last coherent thought before I surrender to fatigue is that sleeping in separate rooms is no way to start off a marriage.
Chapter Seven
Christina
I wake up to the smell of frying bacon. At least I think it's bacon. Whatever it is, it's got a pungent undertone. I hope the bacon isn't rotten. That's the last thing I need to eat right now. I sit up and instantly regret it. I might have moved too fast because the room tilts to one side.
Shit. Not this again.
I close my eyes and wait for the dizziness to subside. Luckily, the room is back to normal when I open my eyes, but I still feel kind of queasy. I heave myself out of bed and groan as pain lances up my side.
Damn bruise. When is it going to stop
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