The Unwanted Marriage: Dion and Faye’s Story (The Windsors)

My heart is pounding wildly as I sit on Dion’s bed, my wedding dress covering most of me. I’ve never felt so out of control, so satiated. The way he just touched me was entirely unexpected. A small part of me had still been certain that he’d be impatient with me, and that he’d inadvertently hurt me. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Dion holds his hand out for me, and I hesitantly place my palm on top of his. He smirks as he presses our joint hands on top of the bulge in his pants, sending my heart racing. He did this in Hawaii too, and I’d been just as flustered then.

“Go on,” he urges. “Take it off.”

I look up into his eyes, my body still humming with desire. It’s almost like I’m in a daze as I unzip his pants, like a part of me that I didn’t even know existed takes over. Dion groans as I expose his black boxer shorts, my face so close to the fabric that leaning in just slightly would have his hardness brushing against my lips.

Would it be possible for me to make him lose control the way he made me lose it? If I take him into my mouth, will it feel as good for him as it did for me?

“Don’t stop there,” he demands, his voice rough.

I bite down on my lip as I hook my fingers around the waistband of his boxer shorts, a hint of fear running down my spine when his erection springs free. I’m not totally innocent — I’ve watched enough porn to know what to expect tonight, yet somehow, I hadn’t anticipated this. I’d felt him in Hawaii, but seeing isn’t the same as feeling, clearly.

I whimper involuntarily, uncertain how he could possibly fit inside me. For one single moment, I consider telling him I’ve never done this before, but it feels too late to bring it up now.

Dion chuckles as he takes in my expression, and I look away instantly, embarrassed. He makes me act so unlike myself, and though it’s oddly freeing, it’s also throwing me off. When he touches me, it’s almost like I can’t recognize myself. He doesn’t know it, but he single-handedly took away the influence the word punishment has always had over me.

“Your turn,” he murmurs. “You look fucking beautiful in that dress, my love, but I don’t want anything between us the first time I fuck you.”

I bite down on my lip, embarrassment suddenly washing over me. Keeping part of my body covered made me feel… protected somehow. I’ve never been naked in front of another person, and I’m not sure I’m ready for something as intimate as that. It seems odd, considering everything we’ve done so far, but I’m scared he’ll look at me and find me lacking. This dress makes me look and feel incredible, and without it, it’ll just be… me.

“Can we… can we turn off the lights?” I ask, my voice wavering. I look down at the floor, insecurity stealing away the hazy lust Dion created.

“Absolutely not,” he whispers, pulling me to my feet. I stumble and crash into him, his bare body pressing against my wedding dress. Dion wraps his arms around me and holds me tightly, his eyes roaming over my face, until I finally gather the courage to look up at him. “I don’t want to miss a second of this, baby. I want to enjoy every inch of your body and witness every expression you make. The first time I take you won’t be in the dark, Faye. You came for me twice tonight, but now you’re getting shy?”

I look away, unable to explain my sudden vulnerability. He’s right, of course. Just moments ago, I was moaning his name shamelessly, but something as simple as this has me feeling insecure.

Dion reaches around me and begins to undo the buttons of my dress, his touch as patient as it’s been all night. When he carried me out of the ballroom, I’d been worried and anxious, but each of his actions has been in sharp contrast to his harsh words. What he thinks is punishment is exactly what I never knew I needed.

My dress comes undone, and he lets it fall away, exposing my body. “Fucking hell,” he whispers, his gaze glued to my chest. “Is any part of you anything short of perfect?”

I tense and cross my arms over myself despite the way my stomach flutters at his words, unable to help it. Dion’s expression darkens for a moment, but he doesn’t stop me. Instead, he smirks and leans in, lifting me into his arms in one smooth move.

“Dion,” I whisper, burying my face against his neck as he walks around our bed, my arms wrapping around his neck. For a moment, I consider clinging to him in an effort to hide, but he eliminates my need for it when he lays me down and covers my body with his.

He pushes my legs apart and settles between them, pressing against my still throbbing heat, his forearms on either side of my head.

“One more,” he murmurs, his eyes on mine. “Can you give me one more, baby?”

There’s something about the way he looks at me that makes me unable and unwilling to hide from him. He looks so captivated, as though I truly am as perfect as he tells me.

“Dion,” I whisper, drawing a shaky breath, my arms tightening around his neck. “I… I’m really scared.”

“Why?” he asks, his voice soft, distracted. His lips drop to my neck, and he kisses me in the same spot as on the plane, drawing a moan from my throat. He chuckles and kisses me again, stealing away all my thoughts, my worries. “Been dreaming of this,” he whispers as he kisses his way down to my collarbone. “I’ve got a lifetime to explore your body, yet I want to memorize every inch of you right now.”

He makes a needy sound at the back of his throat before slowly dragging his tongue over my nipple, circling it until it hardens for him. I squirm underneath him, a wave of fresh desire rushing through me. “Yeah,” he moans. “You like that, don’t you?” He moves to my other breast and does it all over again. “Of course you do. You’re so perfect… my good girl, my wife.”

His free hand slides down to my thigh, and he repositions my leg. I move with him instinctively and wrap it over his hip, following his guidance. Dion pulls away a little to look at me, his gaze hazy with desire. “Baby,” he pleads. “I’m not sure how much more I can take.”

He moves back up, and the way his erection glides against me draws another moan from my lips. He does it again and watches me intently, as though I’ve got him spellbound. “Dion.” I’m not sure if I meant my tone to be admonishing or pleading, but the way he smiles as he teases me again tells me he takes it to be the latter.

“You like the way my cock slides against your clit, huh? Can you give me one more just like that, Faye? Just one more, angel.”

His breathing rapidly turns ragged as he lets the tip slide against me, pushing in just a fraction before pulling away, the repeated sensation maddening. “Yes,” I moan, a familiar sensation building inside me once again. I was certain I was at my breaking point, that I couldn’t come again, yet I feel myself rapidly losing control. My hands wrap into Dion’s hair, and I grip tightly as his movements become more frantic, his own control slipping as he pushes into me a little deeper with each move, stretching me in a painful but satisfying way.

“Please,” I moan. “Yes.”

He smiles at me, looking entirely mesmerized and so incredibly pleased as I shatter for him all over again, my inner muscles tightening almost painfully around the tip of his cock, wave after wave of pleasure washing over me. “That’s my girl,” he praises. “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? So fucking good for me. I knew you could do it.”

I smile back at him, my stomach fluttering and my heart skipping a beat. He looks at me like I just accomplished something great, like I made him proud, and it heightens my passion.

He gently kisses my forehead, his touch so tender that it brings a new kind of ache to my heart. I want to keep making him proud like that. I don’t want him to lose that look in his eyes.

Dion holds himself up on his forearms, his gaze searching. “I need you,” he whispers. “I need to be inside of you, Faye, fully.”

I nod, and he slowly sinks just a little deeper into me, drawing a pained whimper for my throat. “Too much?” he asks.

I shake my head and tighten my grip on his hair. “Dion, I… I need you, too. I want you. All of you.”

He moans, and his eyes glaze over with lust. “Fuck,” he groans, before pushing into me just a little further.

“It hurts,” I whisper, a hint of fear running down my spine. He made me feel so good before, but this… the way he’s stretching me hurts.

“You’re so wet, darling,” he murmurs. “You can do this. You can take all of me, Faye. We’ll take it slow.”

I nod, and he locks his jaw, his eyes on mine as he pushes into me further. “You’re doing so good. You feel so fucking perfect, Faye. Can you take a little more?”

I shake my head. “I can’t.” My voice breaks, and I look away. I don’t want to let him down, but I can’t help it.

Dion smiles at me reassuringly and leans in, his lips brushing over mine. “I’ve got all the time in the world, Faye. We can go slow.” He kisses me leisurely and pulls his hips back, slipping nearly all the way out of me before gently pushing back in, his movements shallow and slow.

My nails scrape over his scalp, and he moans into my mouth before pushing in a little deeper than before. “Okay?” he whispers against my lips. I nod, and he smiles. “Such a good girl. You’re taking my cock so well, baby. You’re doing so good.”

My body slowly adjusts, and his movements reignite the fire that burns low in my stomach. I moan softly when he moves a certain way, and he inhales shakily before thrusting into me fully. The way he groans makes a different kind of desire run through my body, despite the searing pain. I never thought I could feel powerful while lying underneath him, but that’s exactly what he does to me. “So good,” he whispers, sounding half delirious. “This is better than the fantasies that sustained me, baby. So much better.”

I smile and gently cup his cheek, showing him the same tenderness he’s been showering me with all night. My touch is hesitant as I brush my lips against his, and he takes over, kissing me slowly, gently.

Dion moans against my lips when I fully wrap my legs around his hips, and he begins to move, slowly at first, his thrusts as gentle as his kisses.

“My wife’s pussy is so perfect,” he whispers against my lips, and something blooms in my chest — something dark and possessive that I can’t quite name. All I know is that this new part of me hums in satisfaction at his words. “You were made for me, Faye.”

He moves back a little to look at me and pulls out almost all the way before slowly pushing back into me, his eyes never leaving mine. He watches me carefully, as though my pleasure is far more important than his, when he’s already given me so much.

“Does it still hurt, baby?”

I shake my head, heat pooling low in my stomach as his movements become a little rougher, his thrusts harder and deeper. “Fuck,” he moans when I lift my hips a little, trying to move with him better. “Yeah, like that,” he groans, taking me faster, rougher. “That’s my girl,” he moans. “Look at you taking my cock, Faye. You’re such a good girl for me, so fucking good, so perfect.”

His movements become more frantic, and I moan as the sensations morph into something delicious. It isn’t quite the same as when he used his fingers or his tongue, but it feels good. “Dion,” I moan, and he clenches his jaw.

“Can’t take it when you say my name like that, angel. You make me so fucking weak.”

I bite down on my lip, unable to tear my eyes off him. “I’m going to paint your perfect pussy white, Faye,” he tells me, his movements becoming near-painful as he takes me with fast, hard strokes, his control slipping. There’s something strangely empowering about watching him lose that icy control of his, all because of me.

“Fuck, Faye,” he moans, my name on his lips as he comes deep inside me, his eyes falling closed as pure delight takes over his expression. His forehead drops to mine, and he collapses on top of me, his weight oddly comforting. “Perfect,” he whispers, his lips finding mine. “You’re fucking perfect.”