Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 26768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
“I am happy to know you’re feeling well, my love. How far along?”
“About eight weeks.” I run my hand up and down his large arm.
“Thank you for one more.” He moves his hand from my stomach back to my thighs and opens my legs one at a time. His cock is hard, and he is ready for me again.
“Thank you,” I add, and he slides inside.
“Ohh,” we both moan.
“Nico, I am so unbelievably sore,” I add.
“I promise I’ll be really gentle.” He leans slightly, looking down at our connection.
“Is that right?” I giggle.
“Baby, I promise. I’ll be so good to you this morning,” he promises, softening his voice.
I lay back and enjoy him. Nico slides in and out at a leisurely nearly lazy pace, but it still feels incredible. My core is tight and aching and I have no idea how I will do room four. We should have gone last night when I was less sore.
“Right there. Don’t stop.”
He rolls his hips like a wave, my skin and his skin bare and gliding tightly along one another.
“Squeeze me tight, good girl,” he praises. I flourish under his words.
“Oh yes, I am coming, Nico. Keep going!” I moan, holding on tight and losing sight of where the soreness ends and pleasure begins.
“You aren’t ready, greedy girl. You want a little more. Don’t you?”
I nod, biting my lip to the point I nearly draw blood.
“Yes!”
“Come.”
He pulls out, and I scream at the loss. “Nico!”
“Fucking come, baby.”
He reaches between us and pinches my clit and I do exactly that.
I cry so loud, the chandelier above the bed would rattle if I was even an octave higher. Just as I am coming down from it, he slides back in and my tight grip is all he needs to reach his peak.
“So good. So fucking good.” My stomach goes warm with each drop of come he pours into me. I don’t want this to end. I want to stay in this bubble for just a little longer and thank god we get to, but with how much more time? Nico has to get back to work and I want to get back home to the children.
“Take me to the fourth room, now,” I tell him.
He shakes his head and pulls from me. “Emelia, we did everything. I used handcuffs, we used toys, I have fucked you so damn good, rooms one to four met all of the above and then some,” he tells me, sliding on his boxer briefs. I shake my head. Wait? What?
“No, I know but we still have one more thing.” He looks at me, sliding on his jeans and buttoning them up. Wait a minute. No. Please do not do this.
“Nico?” I challenge because I have a feeling I know exactly what he is going to say.
“Emelia. I know you want to let people watch, but I have to shut that down. There are so many things you and I are willing to do for one another, but I can’t—I won’t share you.” My heart starts to thunder in my chest and the tears sitting at bay threaten to make their pesky appearance.
“You aren’t. Watching me and touching me are different things. I have never let someone watch me completely.” It isn’t because I want strangers to watch simply for them being strangers, but it’s the mystery and the ability to please one another and them being able to see us enjoy it. For them to see what Nico does to me.
“No. That is the end of this discussion, Emelia. I won’t let any man watch you. You make a choice. They can watch but I immediately put a fucking bullet in between their eyes. Your body is mine. You are mine. No one gets to see it. The one time with a gun was already pushing my fucking boundary.” I open my mouth to protest, but he stops me. “No. Now get dressed. We’re going home.” He leaves me. A gust of wind on his trail. My head drops and a lone tear falls. It’s not other people I want to watch me, for them to desire me. It’s for them to see that only he can do these things to me. For them to wish they could bring that pleasure to me or anyone, but know they can’t. That Nico and I are a force, and nothing can come between that.
I stand and wipe at my tears. It has to be me. Is he ashamed? Is my body only something he lusts after but worries about what other men will do? Does he think they will laugh? Or be disgusted? I don’t know if it’s the hormones or if I am truly believing for the first time that my husband doesn’t really believe that the world would desire me like he says. It isn’t jealousy he fears, it’s him shielding me from embarrassment. Oh god. Now I am sick. I hold back as best I can. Stopping the tears and taking deep breaths to avoid vomiting.