"No and no. I'm going to lick you all over and tease this piercing of yours." Ruth's mouth brushes over the head of my cock as she speaks. "And then when you're begging for me to lick you, I'm going to work your shaft and your balls and make you come."
I groan. Why does that sound so damn erotic coming from my wife's sweet mouth? "Ruth—"
Her lips move over my cock, and before she can answer me, she's sucking on my cockhead. The breath hisses out from my teeth and then my focus boils down to her mouth and her mouth alone. The world ceases to exist outside of Ruth's tongue and lips. She sucks on the head of my cock gently, her tongue swirling against the divot in the center, tickling it as the piercings press up against her lips. She's always careful not to take me deep into her mouth because she's afraid of irritating the piercings or scraping her mouth, but I don't mind. Just the fact that she touches me is plenty. And Ruth is creative with her mouth. She swirls her tongue clockwise and then counterclockwise. She licks the ridge along the head, and then lets the head loose with an obnoxiously loud pop as she pays attention to other parts of my cock. Her mouth moves along my shaft, her tongue dancing along the ridges, and her hand squeezes the base in a rhythmic motion, pushing in slightly and then pulling forward, tugging.
When her hot, busy little mouth heads for my sac, I arch, unable to keep still any longer. She brushes her lips over the sensitive skin, and when my sac tightens as my climax nears, she tugs on it as her tongue flicks at the base of my cock. I clench my hands on the headboard, shaking it with the force of my need. Ruth barely makes it back to the head of my cock before I spill, and then her mouth is all over me once more, whispering as I come all over her mouth and chin and make a mess on her skin.
I groan as she presses small kisses all over my skin and then gets off of me to grab a towel. "I should be doing that for you," I pant. "It's my job to take care of you."
"You always do. Let me do this for you," she says, shushing me. Ruth wets the cloth and cleans me off, and hums to herself as she does. My mate seems to be in a good mood, and it makes me smile into the darkness to realize that. She's happy, even though I know she was upset to leave her friends again. I like that touching me makes her smile. I like that I feel like I am enough for her. It's a good feeling.
I tug on the cuff, my hand still locked on the headboard. "What made you decide to bring these out?"
"Mmm." She shrugs, the motion just barely visible in the darkness. "There's been so much going on lately. I know you've felt rushed and busy, and I wanted us to take a moment for ourselves. Plus I thought it'd be fun to tie you up and have my wicked way with you." Ruth tosses the cloth onto the floor and then straddles me again, her cunt fitting perfectly against my sated cock. She's slick with need, and as she rocks over my hips, rubbing herself against me, I realize that she has no intention of being done with me quickly…and I like this. I like this a lot.
"Very thoughtful of you," I murmur.
Ruth grins. "What can I say, I'm a giver." And she rocks against me once more. "Feel like receiving again?"
"Not quite yet," I admit, knowing it takes more than a few breaths for my cock to recover. "But give me a few."
She just chuckles like the utter seductress she is and works her soaked cunt against my shaft. Her hands go to her breasts and she teases her nipples through the fabric of her clothing. "Take your time. I'll amuse myself."
I bite back another groan, because if she keeps this up, it's not going to take me long at all.
A few hours later, Ruth releases my now-chafed wrist and tucks herself against me as she sleeps. When she's deep in slumber, I roll onto my back. I'm sated and content, but my mind won't shut off. Like she said, there's too much going on, and even the pleasure of my mate in my arms for some inventive loving doesn't make the gears stop turning for long.
There's a dozen things I need to get done. I need to double-check all of the clearances and records for our new ship name—The Scarlet Gaze. I need to make sure the logs are scrubbed of any Darkened Eye mentions of a visit to Risda III. I need to make sure the right connections—like Bist—have the new name. The list of minutiae I need to triple-check to ensure our safety seems to go on forever, and one particular thought sticks out in my mind.