His Perfect Passion (8 page)

“I want you! Please…inside me!”

He rewarded her. She understood that he was rewarding her for her obedience. He put his lips back down onto her clit and kissed it.

She came. Her body tensed against the glorious, drawing suck he made upon her clit. The part of her capable of taking her to heaven.

“Dariussss!” She shouted out his name as the massive climax took hold, controlling her, making her arch and buck against his fingers and tongue and lips. There was nothing left in the universe but the crashing shards of pleasure ripping through her and the magnificence he could create with his mouth.

* * * *

Hearing Marianne cry his name was a divine gift. The way her lips formed as they produced the sounds was indescribable in this moment of intimacy with her.

Darius wouldn’t wait for her to ride out the orgasm though. He had to get inside her now, discover her,
know
her now, in this moment while she was climaxing.

His robe fell open as he crawled up to mount her. Darius set the blunt head of his cock to her hot, drenched flesh, thinking that this first contact felt so very right. The sensation of meeting her pussy to his prick stalled his breath.

Taking himself in hand, he rubbed the tip in her moisture first and then pushed until the head of him was inside and rested against a barrier. He knew what it was—the wall of her hymen. Sitting back on his knees, he cradled her from underneath, his big hands holding her steady. He lifted her towards him.

“Now, Marianne! Now I finally make you mine.” Her head rocked back at the same moment he drove into her untouched sheath. There was a give in her body as he breached the barrier. Her soft cry pierced the silence, and his heart. He hated to hurt her.

Like a sword sliding into a scabbard, his cock settled into her as she accepted him inside her body. And it was glorious.

“Ahhh…you’re so good, Marianne.”

Her fluttering inner muscles gripped fiercely onto his shaft. The pleasure at being inside her finally was beyond his wildest imaginings. He held it in, giving her a chance to settle. Wet quim clutched around burning cock.

Such unbelievable pleasure in her. My God!

The need to kiss her overpowered the knowledge of exactly where he was in this moment. Dipping to take her lips, he covered her whole mouth with his and thrust his tongue in deep. She moved underneath him and made a sound. Just a small rolling undulation, and just the lightest moan, but in combination they worked as a signal. A gentle expression of submission and want, and he knew she was ready.

He pulled back slowly, deliciously, out of her pussy and her mouth, and then plunged back into both at once.

Yes, oh, yes, oh, yes!

That exquisite taste, once sampled, was impossible to hold back, and Darius let himself get lost in her. He thrust deeply but smoothly, relishing each slow, gliding stroke of his cock, knowing he was willing to explore forever that mesmerizing slit between her sweet thighs.

Being mindful of her innocence, he didn’t want to take her too hard, but the urge to fuck overrode all sensibility.

I am not a monster, but I want a proper fucking…with her!

Sweet Christ, she was divine! Darius couldn’t hold back what he was doing to her. In and out he stroked, hands working her hips against his strokes as the pace intensified. Dark moisture glistened on him when he pulled out—her virgin blood. The sight enflamed him even more, as did the knowledge he was the first and only to be inside her.

Watching each penetration spurred him to thrust faster. The head of his prick felt like it was going to burn off. The eruption was building, the need for completion too great to hold back any longer. Feeling his sac tighten in anticipation, he allowed the climax to consume him into oblivion.

“Mariannnnnne!” Hot liquid jetted out the tip of him, pulsating wildly, washing her with seed as he kept on stroking her. He poured all of himself into her before slowing his rhythm and coming to a final rest.

My seed is finally in you…Mine!

Time crashed down after that. Darius was not sure how long he floated in the sensation of extreme bliss at finally claiming her. She shifted beneath him.

“Oh, Marianne…” He rolled off to his side, stroking over her breasts, kissing her shoulder, her neck, and finally her lips. Releasing her hands, he drew her close, embracing her.

His gestures must have sparked something because she immediately began to cry, seeming totally overcome with sensitivity in the moment. She clung to him, pressing close, her face buried in his chest.

The two reactions were not what he expected, nor did they make any sense. She was clearly upset, but at the same time, trying to draw closer rather than to get away.

“
Mia cara
, my dear one?” he asked carefully, “did I hurt you very badly?”

“You did not.” She sobbed through panting breaths.

“Frighten you?”

“No.” More sobs shuddered through her.

“I am glad for that. My beauty, but why do you cry?”

She shook her head.

“Tell me why, Marianne. You must tell me.”

Her distress stabbed him straight in the heart. Darius didn’t care for her crying. He wanted her happy, pleased, and content. He wanted her to feel pleasure, given by him. To be driven by his touch and to crave it.

He lowered his voice to the pitch she responded to so well and stroked her back. “You want to tell me, Marianne, and you will.”

She buried her head further into his chest and heaved. “You—you make me burn like f—fire! I—did—not—know it would be like this.” She shuddered.

Relief flooded him.
Perfection…just as I knew she would be.

“Hmmm…As it should be, my lovely wife. It was my joy to show you. I adore making you burn, and I will continue to do it again and again and again. You make me burn, as well.” He tilted up her face. “This is only the beginning, my beauty. I have dreamed of you like this, discovering every part of you,
mia cara
—my dearest one.”

Chapter Nine

Darius woke in the night. The wind blew hard outside, rattling the trees against the house. Something wasn’t right—she was not next to him in the bed. “Marianne?” He was unable to thwart the edge of panic escaping in his voice. Even he could hear it.

“I am here,” her soft voice answered.

He followed the sound to the fireplace where she sat before the fire, hugging her knees. She had put her gown back on. The diaphanous thing trailed over the rug. Her long, dark curls rioted over her shoulders and down her back.

She looks like a goddess. And she is mine now. Truly mine.

He propped himself up on his elbows. “What are you doing down there?”

“Thinking.”

“Of what, my darling?”

“Many things.”

“Are you well, Marianne?”

She looked over at him then. Her eyes looked full of mystery and understanding at the same time. “Yes, Darius.”

He shrugged into his robe before coming down to the rug, sitting back on his knees, facing her. For long minutes he stared, enjoying the view.

Gorgeous.

Marianne held his gaze and waited.

“You are so lovely. Your body is glorious. I want to see you. Take off your gown, Marianne. You want to take it off for me, don’t you?”

“I do,” she answered.

He watched as she got to her knees and sat back before lifting the hem of her gown up over her head.

A woman of splendid form—that’s what Marianne was. Breathtakingly fine. Delectable breasts with dusky rose nipples hardened immediately under his desiring gaze. They were marked all over with the feathery love bites he had made earlier. A flat stomach, slender waist, and the flare of lush hips framed the dark
V
of curls at the top of her thighs. That mysterious place he desired to know evermore. He wanted inside her again. No, he
had
to be inside her again!

Those eyes of hers, waiting…waiting…always waiting, looked to him for direction.

* * * *

Darius opened his robe. His body was more beautiful than hers, Marianne thought. A beautiful man. Superb in physique. Smooth golden skin, rippled muscles on his lower chest and abdomen, the trail of dark hair that dipped low to encircle his cock. Sitting before her boldly, his shaft hard, needing her again, with no unease in his nudity, Darius wanted to take her again. Marianne knew all of this.

She thought about how it had been with him. Intimate, raging, tempestuous. He’d been inside her, pulsing and thrusting wildly, going deep. He’d filled her up with his seed and given sensations like she’d never known.

Once he’d told her she was beautiful when she took her pleasure and he’d loved watching it happen. She now understood what he’d meant. The beautiful part. Darius had looked beautiful to her when he had spilled inside her and found his release. His neck and arms rigid, looming over her, the weight of his hips, his eyes glowing down at her, his mouth working soundlessly before choking out her name. All of it beautiful to look upon.

Knowing she was giving him his pleasure was like a drug, and it had affected her strangely. Marianne hadn’t meant to cry like a baby, but when it was done, her emotions had bubbled up, overflowed, and out everything had come. She’d broken down and knew why. She felt guilty for having such joy.
Surely this couldn’t be fair for her to have so much.
Jonathan got nothing but death.

Darius had been ever so sweet with her, though, holding and caressing. He was very good to her. He’d insisted on letting him cleanse her with a cool cloth. His hands so gentle, taking away the traces of her virginity and his seed. I’m no longer a maid, she thought, and felt great relief, glad the experience was behind her and not the ordeal she’d feared. Far from it. It was good. Being taken. It was glorious.

Darius kept on staring at her boldly, his cock hard and jutting in her direction, looking like it wanted in her again…badly. Marianne wanted to touch it and kiss him there, in the way he had done for her, but she waited for him to tell her. His voice was everything. The words directed, but the pitch of his voice, the silky croon, bewitched her in totality.

“Touch me, Marianne. You want to put your hand around it and stroke up and down.”

She leaned forward and wrapped her hand around his rigid cock. Her fingertips didn’t quite meet her thumb though. She stroked up and down as he had asked, mesmerized by the velvety softness of the skin that sheathed him. The slit at the head opened up when she stroked downward and closed when she stroked upward. The opening and closing made a small sound because it was wet. A bit of shiny moisture wetted the slit. Marianne wanted to taste it, but she waited for him to tell her.

“Lick me. My cock, Marianne. You want to lick it and kiss it. Take it into your mouth and suck with those sweet, strawberry lips of yours.”

She stretched down to meet his quivering cock flicking out her tongue, and licked the drop that seeped from the slit. He tasted salty but slightly sweet. She pointed her tongue and dipped inside the tiny hole for the remnants. She heard Darius groan above her. The sound of him made her hot all over. Even so, Marianne still waited for him to direct her.

“Take it all the way,” he gasped.

The rigid flesh slid into her mouth, and she had to stretch her jaws wide to accommodate his girth, but relished the sensation of being filled. His scent carried the remains of what they’d done before…some of him and some of her mixed together.