The Billionaire's Wife by Ava Lore

don't even know you.
    One finger entered my pussy and I clenched around it,
whimpering.
    “Tell me, Felicia.”
    I grappled for coherent thought as his finger slowly began to
pump, in and out, in and out.
    “I want you, Anton,” I said at last. “I want you. Please.
Don't...” I couldn't think of what he might want me to say. “I want you to fuck
me.”
    A second finger entered me, and I collapsed completely against
the seat. The limo went over a bump, and Anton reached out to steady me. Then I
realized what he must be thinking.
    “I want you to catch me,” I said. “I want you to hold me up and
hold me down. I want to talk to you about dumb shit while you try to read your
quarterly earnings report.”
    He laughed, and I heard the surprise in his voice.
    “I want to learn what you like. What you want.”
    “Yes,” he said after a moment. “I'd like that, too.”
    And though he didn't say anything about learning what I wanted,
he seemed to know that already.
    His fingers retreated and I heard his clothes rustling,
shifting, unzipping.
    Then the soft head of his cock was pressed against my slick
folds, and I almost cried with happiness as he slowly, inexorably, pushed
forward.
    My body parted for him like it had never done for any other man.
All his teasing, all the terrible, terrifying, mind-blowing orgasms he'd given
me, all of them had prepared me for him like nothing else could have. I felt
every millimeter of his cock as he filled me, each vein and ridge as he slid
inside.
    “Anton,” I panted, and then he was fully seated in me.
    I felt him from the inside out. His flesh burned inside me, and
I wanted nothing more than for him to ride me until I couldn't walk, make me
come until I couldn't even feel any more. The hem of his shirt brushed against
my ass and I felt the fine fabric of his tuxedo pants grazing my thighs. His
balls tickled my clit as he gave his hips an experimental rotation, grinding
against me, and I moaned and shuddered.
    “You are very beautiful, Felicia,” he said. “I am glad you
married me.”
    Then he started to fuck me.
    It was torture. Sweet, delicious torture, but torture all the
same. His cock filled my pussy and the plug filled my ass, but the way he moved
was so slow, so lazy and unhurried that I wanted to scream in frustration. And
I would have, too, if it hadn't been for the fact that he angled his cock
downwards and with each thrust he rubbed over something inside me that set me
alight, something I had never felt before. With every long, drawn-out push of
his cock he speared it, and each push sent stars pinwheeling across my field of
vision.
    Sweat broke out all over my body. My toes curled. Something
opened inside me, falling to pieces with every nudge of his hips.
    I saw nothing but stars. I heard nothing but my own cries and
Anton's ragged panting behind me. My arms and shoulders ached, my knees rubbed
raw against the floor as he fucked me. Every time he pressed into me, he sent
me one step further toward the edge. I could feel the great howling void just a
few steps beyond my reach, and fear scrabbled at the back of my brain. If he
pushed me over, I would fall. I would disappear, swallowed up by it. I would
cease to exist.
    And yet I wanted it.
    “Please,” I begged him begged the universe. “Please, I... I
don't... I'm going to...”
    He leaned over me. His hard chest and firm abs pressed against
my bound arms, twisting them into an even more painful position, but all that
did was make the pleasure of his erection moving inside me even more acute.
    His arms came around me, his hands grasping my shoulders. Gently
he began to massage the muscles there, and kisses fell on my back, soft and
caressing.
    “Felicia,” he said softly. “You are going to come.”
    I didn't want to. I can't say why, but it seemed to me in that
moment that if I fell from the cliff in front of me and coming closer with
every thrust, that I would change forever. Become another person.