WIFE : BOUGHT AND PAID FOR

SHOT 43

Mature content ahead. If you are uncomfortable reading, please skip the chapter altogether. Below 18, please try hard to stay away🤪

Third person's pov!

He lifted his head to gaze down at her. The chocolate in his eyes had fully melted, his expression one of wonder.

"I need to get some protection," he said, sounding pained.

She didn't want him to leave her. She wanted him to stay right there, to keep her body covered with the heat of his own.

He didn't go far, simply rolling off her to reach into his bedside table.

Before he could rip the square foil open, she placed her hand on his chest. Aryamann's heart thudded as wildly as her own.

Closing her eyes, she twisted onto her side and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. And another. And another, breathing in his musky scent, rubbing her nose against the smoothness of his olive skin.

With trembling fingers she explored him, the hard chest with the soft black hair, the brown nipples that she rubbed a thumb over and heard him catch a breath at, the washboard stomach covered with a fine layer of that same black hair that thickened the lower she went, becoming more wiry...

She hesitated, raising her head from his shoulder to stare at him. How she longed to touch him properly, but there was a painful awareness that she didn't know what she was doing. How could she know what he liked, how he wanted to be touched? It wasn't that she had minimal experience-she had no experience. Nothing.

"You can do whatever you want," he whispered hoarsely, raking his hands through her hair and pressing a kiss to her lips.

"Touch me however you like. I am all yours."

Could he read her mind?

Tentatively, she circled her hand around his length, feeling it pulsate beneath her touch.

Aryamann groaned and laid back, hooking one arm over his head while the other lay buried in her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp.

His erection felt a lot smoother than she'd expected, and as she moved her hand up to the tip, a drop of fluid rubbed in her fingers.

A rush of moist heat flooded between her legs, a sharp pulsation, the same ache she had experienced when Aryamann had set her body alight with his mouth.

To witness his desire for her was as great an aphrodisiac as anything she had experienced since being in his room.

So quickly she didn't even notice him move, he covered her hand with his.

"No more," he growled. "I want to be inside you."

She couldn't resist wrapping an arm around his neck and kissing him, pressing herself against him as tightly as she could.

Hooking an arm around her waist, Aryamann twisted her back down, sliding a knee between her legs to part them.

With expert deftness, he ripped the foil open with his teeth and rolled it on before manoeuvring himself so he was fully on top of her and between her parted thighs, his erection heavy against her.

He pressed his lips to hers and kissed her, his left hand burying back into her hair, his right sliding down her side and slipping between them.

She felt him guide the tip of his erection against her and then into her, and sucked in a breath.

Aryamann simply deepened the kiss, murmuring words of endearment into her mouth.

He brought his hand back up to stroke her face and thrust forward a little more, still kissing her, stroking her, nibbling at the sensitive skin of her neck, slowly, slowly inching his way inside her.