Honeymoon Diaries - 3

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 WARNING: Extremely mature content. You should have gotten the gist by now. 

...Well, I'm going to hell anyways, might as well drag you guys to come with me. (I have ruined the word 'come' for myself. Seriously) 

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     Ryerson had left to the balcony for one meeting before he was entering the house at the time of sunset, his eyes curiously flickering across the dark bedroom in search of his wife. The lights were turned off, the curtains closed with the faint scent of Lyla's endearing perfume and for a brief scary second he thought something happened to her before soft hands covered his eyes. Ryerson let out an almost inaudible sigh of relief before laughing lightly.

     "I already know who you are if you're going to ask me to guess." he said. He heard Lyla's own soft laugh before he felt her warmth behind him, seemingly having come closer.

     "I want to try something else tonight," Ryerson's tongue darted out to wet his lips in excitement.

     "Oh? Mind being more specific, my wife?" he was about to taunt more before she suddenly retracted her hands. He immediately turned, his breath hitching abruptly seeing the sight of her. Lyla was wearing something that was just modest, a wine red lingerie that clung to her in all the right places making her look seductive and erotic. Her generous breasts were clad tightly and intimately to her body the way Ryerson's hands wanted to be and her svelte figure was enhanced by the fabric. She was standing, her posture surprisngly shy as her skin was flaunted in the little light left in the room, "what's happening?" the words fell off his lips slowly as his eyes devoured the sight.

     He didn't get a verbal answer before Lyla placed her palms on his chest, not even meeting his eyes. Ryerson couldn't think straight with her sensual proximity before he tilted her chin up, meeting her hesitant eyes and expression.

     "You realize with how you look all I want to do is pound into your tight pussy?" he growled in her ear. Lyla shivered at his words, "to feel myself inside you? Taste you again, you can't even think about the things I want to do."

     Guess the lingerie Vera gave was definitely going to enhance the experience, Lyla could feel herself tingle between her legs at his words. But tonight, she was going to pleasure him.

     So she shook her head at him, wearing a mask of confidence and looking up at him with a little smirk.

     "No," she said. Ryerson raised an eyebrow, barely surprised she would disobey him, but now only challenged her.

     "No?" he repeated.

     "No," she said, pushing him onto the bed, "tonight," she said seductivley, licking the shell of his ear, "it's my turn."

     Her hands dove under his shirt, going slowly at first, wanting him to know that she was still waiting for consent. She knew that his filthy words should be enough consent, but she felt better asking. Ryerson grabbed her wrists, pulling her forcefully down to him to kiss her lips but she withdrew, pressing her finger against his lips, "I told you, it's my turn."

     Lyla pulled his shirt over his head in a hurry, comfortably straddling his hips, moving her own hips to stimulate him. Ryerson released a small sigh of pleasure, his head falling back against the mattress and Lyla's leant over his warm, naked chest, pressing her lips to his for a kiss.

     Ryerson fought well for dominance, attempting to grab her waist and flip them but Lyla wouldn't let it, smirking against his lips the entire time and he growled out in frustration.

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