The-Wrong-Bride-Ares--Raven’s-story-(Maura,-Catharina)_bibis

I place my hand flat against his chest and smile at him. “Do you have any favorite colors?”
He reaches for me and pushes my hair behind my ear, his gaze dipping down to my chest, where it
lingers. “Whatever you create for me will be amazing, I’m sure.”
I wrap my measuring tape across his torso and lean in close to read the measurement, brushing my
body against his as I do so. Ares inhales sharply and clears his throat uncomfortably, making me
smile.
“Oh, I forgot your neck.” I rise to my tiptoes and press my breasts against his chest as I wrap my
measuring tape around his neck, my lips brushing over his jaw. He groans softly, and a rush of desire
rushes through me when I feel him harden against my stomach.
He raises his hand and threads it through my hair, tightening his grip and keeping me in place.
“This is how you take measurements, wife?” he snaps, sounding angry.
I lean back a little to look at him and shake my head. “No. I never do this myself, but I wanted to
for you.”
“Hmm,” he grunts. “Very well. No one but me, Raven.”
I nod nervously as I let my hand roam down his body. His face is so close to mine… should I give
up on this charade and just kiss him? His eyes drop to my lips and I tilt my face, hoping he’ll make a
move.
“What are you measuring next?” he asks.
I sigh and take a step away, refusing to be discouraged. “Thighs,” I tell him as I sink down to my
knees in front of him.
I bite back a smile when I see the way his towel is tenting, all because I took some measurements.
I look up at him, but he merely stares at me provocatively, without a hint of embarrassment.
I slide my measuring tape underneath his towel, moving it up under the pretence of measuring his
upper thigh, purposely dislodging his towel in an attempt to make it fall off.
“Raven,” he warns.
I look up innocently. “Is something wrong?”
My hands move over his thighs, touching, teasing, as I pretend that I’m struggling to figure out how
best to measure him. His hand moves to my hair just when his towel comes undone, falling to the floor
as his cock is exposed, inches from my face. I lean in and bite down on my lip harshly, a thrill running
down my spine.
Ares tightens his grip on my hair and forcibly tilts my head toward him. “What are you doing,
wife?”
I smile up at him nervously. “Measuring you?”
“Is that all you’re doing?”
I glance at his hard cock and grin as I let go of my measuring tape. I lean toward his other thigh,
making the tip of his cock brush against my lips as I do so. Ares grits his teeth as desire dances in his
eyes, and I clench my thighs in anticipation. “Is there something else you’d rather make me do?”
His free hand moves to his cock and he wraps his fingers around the base. “If I find out you’ve
ever measured another man this way, there’ll be hell to pay,” he warns.
He grips my hair tightly and moves my face back toward his cock until he’s got my lips placed
against the tip of it.
I open up for him and let my tongue brush over the edge, eliciting a loud moan from him. “Raven,”
he groans as he holds my head in place.
I look into his eyes as I close my lips around the tip of his cock, sucking down hard. He watches
me as he pushes further into my mouth, slowly.