Chapter 608: Chapter-608
"Wife," he growled, leaning down to bite the side of her throat. "You feel that? Every inch. That’s yours. Take it."
He shifted the angle, lifting one of her legs higher over his hip so he could drive even deeper. The new position dragged the thick head of his cock directly across the place that made her vision spark white. A sharp, broken cry tore from her throat. Samuel’s rhythm faltered for half a second, then turned brutal.
He fucked her harder.
The silk sheets twisted beneath them. The headboard knocked softly against the wall with every powerful thrust. Samuel’s voice stayed low and constant, a dark stream of praise and command.
"That’s my general. Taking me so well. Look at the way you open for your husband."
"Madam, you’re dripping down my cock. Greedy little thing."
"Lord of the battlefield, reduced to this—moaning under me like you were made for it."
Each title landed like another stroke, winding her tighter. Her moans grew louder, rawer, spilling freely with every deep plunge. The headache was a distant memory; all that remained was the relentless drag and fill of him inside her, the slap of skin, the wet, filthy sounds of how thoroughly she was being taken.
Samuel’s control frayed. His thrusts turned sharper, more desperate. One hand braced beside her head; the other gripped her hip hard enough to leave marks, holding her exactly where he wanted her so he could drive in to the root every single time.
"Come for me," he ordered, voice wrecked. "I want to feel my wife shatter on my cock. Do it. Now."
He ground the base of himself against her clit on the next deep thrust, circling, pressing, never slowing the brutal pace. The dual sensation tore through her. Her back arched hard off the mattress. A long, high, broken moan ripped from her throat as her walls clamped down around him in hard, rhythmic pulses.
Samuel cursed, low and vicious, feeling every flutter and squeeze. He fucked her through it, dragging the orgasm out until she was shaking and gasping, oversensitive and still chasing more. Only when the last waves began to ease did he allow himself to follow.
He buried himself to the hilt one final time and came with a deep, guttural groan that vibrated against her throat. Hot pulses flooded her, thick and endless. He kept moving through it, shallow, grinding thrusts that milked every drop from him and forced soft, helpless sounds from her with each aftershock.
When the last tremor faded he stayed buried inside her, chest heaving, forehead pressed to hers. Sweat cooled on their skin. The room smelled of sex and the faint herbal scent of the discarded cloth.
Samuel’s voice was rough when he finally spoke, but the dangerous edge had softened into something darker and far more satisfied.
"Next time you decide to pick a fight with your husband, wife... don’t expect me to be gentle."
He rolled his hips once more, still half-hard inside her, drawing a weak, overstimulated whimper from her lips. A slow, wicked smile curved his mouth.
"Or do. I rather enjoy proving exactly what kind of man you married."
Heena’s body remained limp and heavy against him for a long moment, her breathing evening out as the last tremors left her. Slowly she shifted, sliding higher until her cheek rested against the solid plane of his chest. Samuel’s arms settled around her automatically, one large hand stroking lazily down the curve of her spine. He was still half-hard inside her, the slow throb of residual pleasure pulsing between them, but the sharp edge of urgency had softened into something warm and sated.
Then he felt it.
Her fingertips brushed across his left nipple, circling once, twice, before pinching lightly. At the same time her mouth closed over the right one, hot and wet, tongue flicking the sensitive peak before she began to suck.
Samuel’s breath hitched. A low, startled sound escaped him before he could stop it. His hand flew up, covering his own mouth as his golden eyes snapped down to her.
"Wife—what are you doing?"
Heena didn’t answer with words. She only looked up at him, still sucking, dark lashes half-lowered, expression almost innocent in its confusion. The tilt of her head asked the silent question: *Isn’t this obvious?*
Samuel’s jaw flexed. The careful scholar in him tried to catalogue the sensation—the sharp little sparks of pleasure that shot straight down his spine every time her tongue dragged across the stiffened bud—but the rest of him was already reacting. His cock, still nestled inside her, gave a heavy twitch.
She released him with a soft, wet pop and moved to the other side, switching without hurry. Her free hand continued to play with the nipple she had just left, rolling and tugging while her mouth worked the new one. Samuel’s hips jerked once, involuntary.
"wife..." His voice had gone rough again. "That’s—"
She hummed around him, the vibration traveling through his chest. The sound was pure satisfaction.
Samuel’s head dropped back against the pillows. One arm remained draped loosely around her waist; the other stayed over his mouth for a second longer before falling away. His fingers threaded into her hair instead, not guiding, simply holding on.
Heena took her time.
She explored him the way a general maps new territory—methodical, thorough, and utterly unhurried. Her mouth traveled from one nipple to the other, then lower, dragging open-mouthed kisses across the hard planes of his abdomen. Her hands never stopped moving: stroking the thick muscles of his chest, scraping short nails lightly down his sides, mapping every place that made his breath stutter.
When she finally sat up, straddling his hips without taking him back inside, Samuel’s cock lay heavy and flushed between them, already fully hard again and glistening with the mixed evidence of their earlier joining. Heena looked down at it for a long moment, then met his eyes.
A slow, wicked smile curved her mouth.
She did not sink down onto him.
Instead she shifted lower, settling between his spread thighs. Her hands closed around the base of his cock, one stacked above the other, and she began to stroke—slow, firm, twisting on the upstroke the way she had learned made his thighs tense. Her tongue followed a moment later, flat and wet, dragging from root to tip before she took the head into her mouth and sucked.
Samuel’s hips lifted off the mattress with a sharp curse.
Heena hummed again, the sound vibrating around him, and kept going. She worked him with mouth and hands in perfect, relentless rhythm, never rushing, never letting him settle. Every time his breathing grew ragged she would pull off just long enough to lick a slow stripe along the underside or to press a wet kiss to the sensitive spot just beneath the head, then take him deep again.
The first orgasm hit him harder than he expected.
His back arched, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as he spilled across her tongue. Heena swallowed what she could and kept stroking him through it, slower now but unbroken, until the pulses stopped and he was twitching, oversensitive. Only then did she pull back, lips shiny, and look up at him with quiet triumph.
Samuel’s chest heaved. "Enough—"
She ignored him.
Her mouth returned, softer this time, licking him clean while her hands drifted lower. She cupped his balls, rolling them gently, then let her fingers slide further back to press against the tight skin behind them. Samuel’s entire body jerked.
"wife—fuck—"
She was relentless.
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