The Devil's Betrothed
Chapter 561: An Intense Pleasure

Chapter 561: An Intense Pleasure

Arlan, with both of them still soaked, carried Oriana through the chamber, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the floor. He gently laid her damp form in the center of the bed and then climbed onto it himself, his naked figure in full view of her shy eyes.

As he positioned himself above her, his intentions became unmistakable. He began to part her legs.

"Arlan... I really am... healed..." Oriana stammered, her instinct to close her legs battling against his actions.

He leaned in closer, pecked on her lips as to coax her. "Let me check for myself," he insisted, his hands resting on her knees. "A good husband takes care of even the smallest injuries of his wife, not to forget this one is caused by me. Do you want me to be an ignorant husband who leaves his wife on her own after having his fill?"

Internally, Oriana was exasperated. ’What?’ she thought. ’Why is he making it seem as if he’s wronged for not being allowed to do this?’ She knew all too well how adept he was at twisting words to his advantage.

"No more discussion," Arlan declared, firmly parting her legs.

Overwhelmed with embarrassment, Oriana covered her eyes with one arm, surrendering to the inevitability of her husband’s brazen actions. She felt him lean in closer between her thighs, and his fingers delicately parted her wet folds, his assessment echoing in her ears, "Hmm, it’s indeed still hurt."

Oriana had an urge to crawl away, her heart crying intently not knowing what to do with this man. ’Could he not talk so shamelessly?’

However, any embarrassment she harbored rapidly receded to the back of her mind as soon as she felt the warm, moist touch of his tongue delicately exploring her folds. The sensation elicited a loud moan from her, her composure unraveling under his ministrations.

Her eyes remained tightly shut beneath her shielding arm, her free hand instinctively reaching out to clutch at the bed sheets.

"Arlan..." she breathed out, a mixture of pleasure and surrender in her voice.

"Hhm?" he murmured, undistracted from his intent focus on her.

His tongue expertly navigated, caressing and teasing her sensitive folds, eliciting waves of pleasure that made her writhe beneath him. Her toes curled against the sheets, her body instinctively reacting, trying to press into the mattress. But Arlan kept her firmly in place, his hands steadying her hips.

Relentlessly, he explored deeper, his tongue seeking the places once claimed and hurt by his own being, invoking shudders of delight through her body. Her hands, now tangled in the sheets, clutched and pulled in a rhythm dictated by the overwhelming sensations. Her back arched off the mattress, her head pressed firmly into the pillow, as waves of intense pleasure coursed through her.

Arlan, keenly attuned to the reactions of his beautiful wife, shifted his gaze to capture every nuance of her response. The sight before him was both enticing and profoundly erotic. He had brought her to such states of ecstasy before, but those moments had been shrouded in darkness, her identity concealed behind the guise of a noble lady. Now, in the light, he could fully appreciate the vision of her, her body surrendering to the intense pleasure he was eliciting.

This opportunity to witness her so uninhibited, so utterly lost in the sensations he was bestowing, was something he relished deeply. He saw every quiver, every arch of her body, each expression that crossed her face, and it fuelled his own desire to continue, to explore, and to cherish every aspect of her in this moment of intimate vulnerability and trust.

Soon he sensed her approaching the edge. He intensified his movements, his tongue quickening in pace, each motion guided by her responses, letting him know exactly what brought her the most pleasure.

The crescendo of sensations swept over Oriana like successive waves, each one lifting her higher into the world of ecstasy. This relentless tide of pleasure left her breathless, her body finally succumbing to a state of complete exhaustion, as if she had undergone a strenuous exertion. She lay spent on the bed, her mind adrift in a haze of satisfaction and disorientation, temporarily lost to the world around her, immersed in the aftermath of the intense experience.

Arlan’s touch was gentle as he caressed her trembling thighs, soothing the aftershocks of her intense pleasure. He moved up to face her, observing her heavy breathing, her eyes shut tight, her mouth open as she gasped for air.

He tenderly took her hand, which was still clutching the sheets, and brought it to his lips for a gentle kiss. This gesture prompted her to open her eyes and look back at him.

"You did well," he said softly.

Oriana, overwhelmed by a mix of speechlessness and embarrassment, didn’t know how to respond to his praise. Then she heard him add, "If it doesn’t heal with this, we will try again."

Alarmed by his words, she immediately shook her head. "No more please... I... can’t... take it anymore." Her eyes pleaded with him.

Arlan chuckled, caressing her hair, now sticking to her sweat-dampened face. "Don’t worry. Not now, but later. You need to rest," he reassured her.

Before she could express her gratitude, he sealed her lips with his in a brief, tender kiss. Pulling away, he asked, "Could you taste yourself?"

Caught off guard by another of his bold questions, Oriana remained silent.

Seeing her hesitation, he teased, "If you couldn’t, I’ll do it again and let you taste properly."

Fearing a repeat of the intense experience, she quickly responded, "No, I mean, I could... I could taste..."

"Now you know why I like it. You taste amazing, and it’s really hard to resist the urge," he explained.

"I.. understand," she replied, eager to dissuade him from further actions.

He gave a light smirk and lay down next to her, drawing her into his arms. A blanket seemed to move of its own accord, covering them both. "I didn’t sleep at all last night. Let’s sleep for a while longer."