Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 14237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 71(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 47(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 71(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 47(@300wpm)
I let her think I would take her to the edge. That I would let her come on my tongue. Her legs clenched, her toes dug into my thighs where she still had her feet planted. Her moans turned to whimpers. The first squeeze of her pussy around my tongue—
Ripping my face from her, I soared upright and pressed the letter opener right over her jugular.
My cock speared up, sticking out from my suit. I was fully dressed, and my Tess was naked on an altar to be eaten. So pretty. So pure. So perfect.
My teeth ached to bite. My tongue burned to taste.
Her eyes met mine with a flash of condemning black fire that also burned inside me. Fire that only grew hotter the longer we played.
Ever so slowly, she turned her head, surrendering her throat to me, giving me every shred of trust and submission. “Do it.”
My lips pulled back as I traced her vein with the small stationery dagger.
My black heart pounded. My lips, still coated in her desire, stung for a different sort of flavour. One far more intimate than sexual pleasure. One of sickness and depravity. One that I needed to sate because her blood was my temporary cure. A shot of medicine to restrain myself for another day.
I didn’t look away from her as I pressed the dagger just a little harder.
She flinched and moaned.
Everything inside me froze into predatory stillness as the first bead of ruby welled on her throat. The colour. The glisten. Her lifeforce and very essence.
Fuck.
Crushing her into my desk, I rocked my cock through her drenched folds as my mouth latched onto the droplet.
The moment her sweet, metallic, hot, hot blood soaked onto my tongue, I snapped.
She wanted to be fucked?
She just got her wish.
“Spread,” I snarled, pushing her knees as wide as they’d go.
Lying back on my desk, her hair strewn over my laptop and other junk, she presented herself to me.
Tossing the letter opener away, my eyes locked on another droplet of crimson as it welled down her skin, down and down, coming to a stop in the hollow of her collarbone.
Fuck.
Me.
Dragging her hips the final inch off the desk, I sucked in a haggard breath. “Who are you, esclave?”
Her stunning smile glinted with sharp canines. “La vôtre. Je suis à toi.” (Yours. I’m yours).
My vision shot black.
I notched inside her.
I thrust.
The sensation of her body closing hot and wet around mine made all the blackness, all the wickedness, all the perversion inside me snarl.
I wanted to break her apart as I withdrew and plunged back in.
I wanted her screaming my name in both pleasure and pain.
My mouth locked over that little droplet of blood. Cooler, less viscous, already beginning to congeal.
I lost myself to her.
Fucking her against my desk, I snatched her jaw and planted my lips over hers.
I groaned as her tongue instantly stroked mine. Fierce and snake-fast, she met me with war and violence.
The desk creaked as I turned manic.
The sounds of our flesh slapping together was a perfect melody.
Something crashed to the floor; I didn’t care.
Tess’s moans turned to animalistic grunts; I rejoiced.
My own roar built louder and louder in my belly the longer I drove myself deeper and deeper into my wife, punishing her, remembering her, eradicating any distance of the past few days.
Her breakable hands landed on my cheeks as I fucked her like I despised her. Her nails dug into my five o’clock shadow, threatening to draw my blood just like I’d drawn hers.
We were sick.
We were contagious.
We were free in this cage of our own making.
“Fuck, Tess. I can’t—”
“Come. Come, maître.”
It was her job to obey me. Her purpose to submit. But in that moment, she was my master and I let go.
The sharp, shooting waves of a release jettisoned out of me and into her. Splashing deep, wake after wake, full of bone-snapping pleasure.
Her hand shot between her legs, rubbing herself as I watched my cock spear in and out of her.
With a scream, she shattered, milking me in thick, erotic pulses, dragging out my own release until we both collapsed onto the desk.
Her bare chest panted beneath my suit-covered one. I pressed a worshipping kiss to the small wound I’d caused. “Je t’aime, Tess. With all my heart.”
She stretched beneath me, making my cock hit different parts of her. “I love you too. With every part of me.”
I kissed her sweetly, reverently.
What did I do to deserve this minx?
How had I been lucky enough to marry this wonderful woman?
Whatever it was, I was grateful. So fucking grateful she was mine.
My evening of work faded beneath images of taking her to our bedroom and pulling out the toy chest. I’d cuff her to the foot of the bed and—
“Eh, maître?”
Ah, fucking hell.
Having Tess call me her master made me ready to rut like a beast. Having my staff call me their master sent cold water of reality dousing over me.