To Save an Angel

twenty-two

A N G E L

THE MAN YOU MARRIED. Those words ring in my head like f*****g church bells or something.

Resounding, echoing, scratching at the surface of my auditory nerves.

What? I'm not completely stupid.

Before I can blink, the sound of fabric ripping assaults my ears, followed by a breeze of cool air in my body.

He ripped the shirt. Really ripped the shi-

Fingering my panties he considers me pensively.

"Should we get rid of these?" Not allowing me to answer, he smiles brightly. "No, I think they'll stay for a while."

Then, like I weigh nothing, he carelessly tosses me onto the bed where he wants me. Right in the middle.

"You are very beautiful," He studies me, touching lightly, as if I were a fragile piece of art.

"So small and curvy," Traces my curves, hip, thigh, "Pretty dark brown hair, like chocolate." Strokes my hair lovingly, "Perfect little mouth, that runs entirely too much," Thumbs my bottom lip, "And those eyes."

His gaze burns holes into mine.

"Those unique eyes, that mesmerize me, so big and cute, but when you want something, they are dark and seductive."

Fingers dust over my lids, making me close them for the briefest second. His appraisal of me leaves me breathless.

"So many things. You are not perfect, nobody is. But you're the closest I've seen."

Heart flutters. Para. No màs.

"Do you know what dea means, wife?" I shake my head. No words. No words.

"In you're language, I believe it translates to diosa. Goddess. You are my Goddess, and most of the time I let have whatever you want. Nothing is too great for my Goddess."

There is a cage for a reason, corázon. Stop beating so hard.

"However, I am still your husband. There are limits, wife. Goddess or not, you

are mine."

He stunned me with his words, now he is torturing me with his fingers. Cotton prohibits his fingers from entering me, but not from sliding one up and down my slit. Playing with my labia.

Squirming, panting, I feel like I've been thrown in heat, my panties are soaked, and he knows it by the self satisfied look on his face.

"Dripping for me, wife?" He teases, rubbing me ruthlessly. "Let's see if I can fix that, sì?"

The panties are pushed to the side exposing my most private parts to him. Somehow, he has managed to make me feel guilty.

"Let me help my Goddess," His eyes twinkle before disappearing from sight, making a reappearance against the sensitive folds of p***y.

One strong solid lick, laps up my juices, but produces even more in it's wake. So he laps at me, skillfully sucking my labia into his mouth, grazing his teeth against my c**t. His tongue breifly slips inside me for a glorious few seconds, but he takes it back.

"Mm. You taste so good, little wife. So good I could eat from your p***y every day of the week."

Gushing, I'm gushing for him, but he won't give me what I want.

"Please, Marco," He hums against me.

"Please make me cum."

He reappears from my aching cunt only to smirk.

"You want it? You take it. I will give you this, because rest of the night I will be taking from you."

Squeezing my thighs against his head, holding his hair, grinding my cunt against his face I whimper helplessly.

He hums once more, stimulating me, then he flicks out his precious tongue, letting me f**k his face. Every time I am pressed against him, he goes at it, licking and biting, kissing. Only when my husband sucks my whole cunt into his mouth do I shatter.

Shaking, moaning lowly, whimpering, bucking, crying. My husband stands up.

"Mm, I believe I can this sight even better. On your knees."

Graciously I dropped to my knees eager to return the glorious favor.

"Take your c**k, wife. It's yours."

Taking him at his word I pull his c**k out, loving that he goes commando around the house. He's already in boxers so nothing stops me from the monster in front of me.

Sex is still... scary for me. Especially oral s*x. Anal s*x is just a no. But I want to return the favor.

Steeling myself, I lick the underside of his veiny shaft, peppering tiny kisses along his length.

"You like my c**k, wife?" I hum in satisfaction. Licking up to the head, I start to suck.

Until he pulls me off him. "Too bad, baby. You see maybe after this two weeks, you will have a week of submission from me. Not likely, but maybe."

I don't like where this is going.

"But for now, this is not really about your pleasure, my Goddess. But you will be able to take it, only when I say or not at all."

He picks me up, and throws me again, the bed is where I land.

He crawled over to me, like a predator his proud erection beckoning me. Then he springs at me, as if he'd be coiled this whole time, and has finally been let go.

The panties disappear, and I feel his tip teasing my entrance. Whining, I grab his shaft, but he slaps me hand away, pinning both wrists with on strong hand.

"This p***y is mine, and I decide when I give you my c**k, not you. Do you understand this baby?"

"Yes."

"Yes who?"

"Yes, Marco."

"And who is Marco to you?"

"My husband."

"Tell me again what your name is."

"Angel Romano."

Abruptly, he drives into me making me scream and claw at his back for some relief.

The pain is immense but the pleasure...

A tight grip on my chin forced my dazed eyes open.

"Look at me," he demands. "Look at your husband when he f***s you."

Ruthlessly pulling out, leaving me empty he let's me writhe in misery.

Whimpering, I fondle my breast, tugging on my n*****s, but Marco smacks both my hand and my sensitive buds, sending hot need into my veins.

"Don't touch." He growls at me.

All at once I'm painfully full again, drawing a scream from my throat.

"Marco, Marco please baby please, please," His name is like a prayer, a chant.

I'm incoherent the things I say just as much as a mystery to me than it is to him.

"You want me to f**k this greedy cunt? You want me to satisfy you?"

Please... Por favor. The only words I know right now.

"Tell me you won't do this stupid s**t again. Promise me you won't test me like this ever again."

Meanwhile, to ensure favorable results, he slides his tips up and down my slit, peeking inside.

"Lo prometto, lo prometto, marito, per favor, ayuda me!"

"Good girl. Such a good little wife for me," Then he enters me, f*****g me hard fast, rough-

Brutally, tossing me around, f*****g me so hard and deep he nearly hit my cervix, all while demanding that I tell him I belong to him, and I will never let another man touch me.

He makes me promise to never take off my ring, makes me apologize profusely for trying to make him jealous, and letting someone touch what's his.

But even in all the roughness, he takes care not to hurt me any more than I want to be hurt. He still brings me pleasure, still pressed a soft gentle kiss to my mouth, or whisper to me that I am his Goddess.

By the end of our f**k session, I'm limp on the floor, crying, still apologizing, still shaking from orgasms. My body is sore, but in a well f****d way.

I can barely move. Then again, he did tell me that he would ensure I would be like this for days.

The imprint of his c**k still remains, make my p***y clench around something that isn't there. Several loads of his seed still heat my p***y making it ache. His essence drips from me, forming a pool underneath my well f****d cunt.

I've never been so satisfied in my life, even though everything hurts.

"I will come back and help into bed, fatina, after I check on my Principessa."

He looks down with a frown. "I did not hurt you too bad did I? Sometime I forget how strong I am and how little you are-"

"I'm fine, Marco. I'll be okay in a couple days."

My husband grins in pride, before stooping down to me, grabbing my face.

"Così bella," He whispers, pressing a soft kiss against my lips. "I am lucky to have you, Angel."

With that he's up and on his way to Sera.

"I should only be a few minutes baby," He calls on his way out shutting the door behind him.

My heart flutters unhealthily at the word baby.