"Fuck, you feel good," I growled, pulling back just to slam into her again, harder this time.
"More," she demanded, her legs wrapping around my waist, her heels digging into my back. "Harder, please… "
The bed creaked beneath us as I fucked her, my hips snapping forward with every thrust, my cock pistoning in and out of her tight cunt.
She was so wet, so fucking perfect, her walls milking me with every stroke, her moans filling the room, mixing with the obscene sounds of our bodies slapping together.
"You're mine," I grunted, my lips crashing down on hers again, my tongue fucking her mouth in the same rhythm as my cock fucked her pussy. "Say it."
"Yours," she gasped, her back arching, her tits bouncing with every thrust. "Only yours, Aryan… "
Her words sent me over the edge. I reached between us, my fingers finding her clit, circling it in tight strokes.
Her body locked up, her walls clamping down around me like a vise, and then she was coming, her scream muffled against my shoulder as her pussy pulsed around my cock, dragging my own orgasm from me.
I buried my face in her neck, my hips stuttering as I came deep inside her, my cum filling her in hot spurts.
She whimpered, her nails raking down my back as she rode out the last waves of her climax, her body trembling beneath mine.
For a long moment, neither of us moved. I stayed buried inside her, my cock still twitching, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
Her fingers traced lazy patterns up and down my spine, her lips pressing soft kisses to my shoulder, my collarbone, the side of my neck.
[Perspective: Wanda Maximoff]
The bed was warm, but the air in the room had a slight chill to it.
Wanda watched Aryan sit up. He stretched, the muscles in his back shifting under his skin.
He turned to look at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Okay," he said. "Phase One complete. Phase Two: The Transit."
"Transit?" she asked, pulling the duvet up to her chin.
"To the bathroom," he said. "The floor is cold. You are warm. I cannot allow you to touch the cold floor."
Before she could protest, he swept the duvet aside. He scooped her up into his arms, lifting her effortlessly.
"Aryan!" she squeaked, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I can walk!"
"Walking is for peasants," he declared, marching toward the en suite. "You are royalty."
He carried her into the bathroom and set her down gently on the bath mat. The tiles were indeed cold, but the mat was plush.
He reached for the cabinet. He pulled out the toothbrushes… his blue one, her pink one.
He put toothpaste on his. Then he put toothpaste on hers.
He handed her the pink brush.
She reached for it.
"Wait," he said, pulling it back.
"What?"
"I have an idea," he said. He leaned against the counter, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "I want to try something."
"What?" she asked suspiciously.
"Let me do it," he said.
"Do what?"
"Brush your teeth."
Wanda stared at him. "You want to... brush my teeth?"
"Yes," he nodded. "It's a service. Full service spa."
"I am not an invalid, Aryan," she laughed. "I have functional arms."
"I know," he said, stepping closer. "But have you ever had someone else do it? It's a luxury experience."
He looked at her with those puppy dog eyes that he knew she couldn't resist.
"Fine," she sighed, opening her mouth slightly. "But if you poke my gums, I will bite you."
"Understood," he said solemnly.
He stepped into her personal space. He placed one hand gently on her jaw, tilting her head up.
"Open," he whispered.
She opened her mouth.
He was gentle. Incredibly gentle. He moved the brush in circular motions. He focused on the task with the intensity of a surgeon.
She watched his eyes. He wasn't looking at her teeth. He was looking at her face. He was smiling.
It was... strangely intimate.
He brushed the front. The back. The tongue (which tickled).
"Rinse," he instructed, handing her a cup of water.
She rinsed and spit.
She wiped her mouth, looking at him.
"Well?" he asked. "Review? Five stars?"
"Four stars," she teased. "You were a little slow on the molars."
"I'll strive to do better," he grinned.
He raised his own brush.
"Wait," Wanda said.
She reached out and took the blue brush from his hand.
"My turn," she said.
Aryan blinked. "Your turn?"
"You wanted the experience," she said, stepping closer to him. "Now I want the experience."
"I... uh..." he stammered. "Okay. Fair is fair."
He opened his mouth.
Wanda placed her hand on his cheek. His stubble scratched her palm.
She began to brush.
She took her time. She watched the way his throat moved as he swallowed. She watched his eyes, which were locked on hers, full of trust and adoration.
She brushed carefully, making sure to get every tooth.
It felt like caring for him. It felt like owning him.
"Rinse," she whispered.
He rinsed and spit.
He looked at her in the mirror. They were both grinning.
"Five stars," he declared. "Best brushing of my life."
He turned to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist.
"So," he said, his voice dropping lower. "Since we are already here... and since I distinctly remember promising a back rub yesterday..."
Wanda smiled. She ran her hands up his chest to his shoulders.
"You did promise," she murmured.
"And I am a man of my word."
He reached behind him and turned on the shower. Steam began to fill the room.
"Let's see how experienced you are," she whispered.
[Perspective: Aryan Spencer]
The shower was large. A rainfall head. plenty of room for two.
The water was hot. Steam curled around us, creating a foggy world.
Wanda stood in front of me, her back to my chest. The water cascaded over her shoulders, sluicing down her spine.
I poured body wash onto a sponge… something that smelled like lavender and chamomile.
"Ready?" I asked near her ear.
"Yes," she breathed.
I started at her shoulders. I moved the sponge in slow circles. I worked out the knots in her traps.
"You carry so much tension here," I murmured.
"It is... the weight of the world," she joked weakly, leaning back into my touch.
"Not today," I said. "Today, you only carry the weight of the water."
I moved down her back. I traced her spine with the sponge. I washed her sides, my hands slipping over the soap slicked skin.
I dropped the sponge. I used my hands.
I washed her arms. I washed her neck.
She turned around in my arms.
Her hair was plastered to her head. Water dripped from her eyelashes. She looked beautiful.
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