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For the first time…well, ever, I saw what the shy, embarrassed version of my wife looked like. She seemed to regress by years from her actual age, and the sheepish, bashful woman before me was so alluring, I felt my dick twitch.
“I-I-I’m not really sure. Like, what are we talking about? I don’t want to be whipped or given electrical shocks, I know that much,” she answered while studiously inspecting her twisted hands in her lap.
“Why don’t you leave what and how up to me? You just have to tell me it would be okay. You have to trust me that I will know when and what to try.” I definitely had an erection now. I unabashedly adjusted myself in my running shorts, but messing with it only made it worse.
“Fuck me,” I muttered while shifting my weight on the hard seat.
“You okay there?” She laughed, and I just gave her a serious stare. Immediately, she clapped her mouth shut and widened her eyes.
We both relaxed over the next few minutes, and Agatha was first to break the silence. “So when do you want to test this theory?” She looked me over from head to toe, and a beautiful rosy tint colored her cheeks.
“I’ll worry about the details, darling. You just have to say yes.” I paused a few beats and then pressed for the answer I was now painfully waiting for. “Are you saying yes?”
Instead of words, she gave a quick dip of her chin. I was shocked. For all her bold, mouthy comebacks and brash attitude, this was the topic that was making her squirm. At the same time, I loved uncovering new things about her. Each time I did, it felt like we became a little bit closer.
I slid closer to her on the bench so there was no chance anyone passing by would hear our conversation. Dropping my voice to the most seductive yet commanding tone I could, I told her, “Say the words, Storm. Out loud. Tell me to hurt you, baby.” I leaned closer to her and bit the lobe of her ear, increasing the pressure until she moaned.
“Oh God, that feels so good,” she said and sounded like she just finished the five-mile run I had this morning.
“Tell me,” I said again.
Boldly, she met my stare straight on. “I want you to hurt me, Carmen,” she whispered, and that was more than good enough for me.
I stood abruptly and tugged her to stand too. She yelped in surprise, and it was a delightful little sound.
“You can trust me. I won’t push you further than you can handle,” I vowed while looking down to her upturned face. “Thank you for your consent. You’re not going to regret it,” I said through a devilish grin. When she tilted her head, probably ready to ask about my expression, I continued. “You’re also never going to fake coming again. Understand?”
She nodded eagerly, and we were both breathing a bit faster with excitement. I wanted to yank down the white jeans she wore and mount her right there on the complex’s greenbelt, but I used some restraint.
Once we were inside the apartment, though…all bets were off.
Chapter Fourteen
Agatha
Every dress I owned was off the hanger and strewn about the room. I hated every single one I tried on and found myself biting a hole through my cheek so I didn’t launch into another tirade about having to go to church this morning.
Me! In church! The whole idea was ludicrous, but my bossy husband wouldn’t budge on me attending. He peeked into the spare bedroom from the doorway, eyebrows up at his hairline when he took in the condition of the space.
A threatening growl rumbled in my chest. If he dared to utter one single word, I’d throat punch him.
“That one looks lovely. Why don’t you wear that?” he asked very carefully.
“You don’t think it’s too snug on my ass? I mean, for church? And look at the front. Is this too much cleavage?” I pointed out the details of the current piece that were preventing me from considering wearing it.
“No, honestly, darling. You look beautiful. Please don’t stress this much, okay? These days people show up in jeans and T-shirts. You’re making too much of an issue out of this.” He waited patiently while I glared his way, and he finally added another, “Okay?”
“No, actually it’s not okay. I don’t want to go in the first place and you’re forcing me to. I’ll tell you one thing, husband.” That word got a heavy coating of venom today. “You’re going to owe me for this. Big time,” I threatened, and even though I’d promised myself we wouldn’t argue before doing this, his mere presence was a reminder of the situation I was being railroaded into.
“I think you look beautiful. I hope you keep on what you’re wearing. We need to leave in fifteen minutes, so I’ll let you finish up.” He cautiously backed out of the doorway and into the hall. When he was clear of the room, he turned and quickly went to the living room. I heard him flip on the television, probably to kill some time until I was ready.
“Okay, girl. Breathe. We’re not going to be late on top of everything else. Dress looks good, get your hair and makeup done, and this will be fine. It’s going to be fine.” I coached myself in from the ledge and finished getting ready.
I took a few minutes to shoot a text to my sister Hannah. It had been more than a week since we spoke, and that was unusual. I could really use her support right now, so I was missing chatting with her more than normal.
After one last look in the mirror, I decided it was as good as it was going to get. My nerves were really getting the best of me still, so I dug through the contents of the medicine cabinet in hopes of finding anything that might take the edge off.
There was a full, unopened bottle of nighttime cold medicine beneath the sink, and I eyed it cautiously. Before I was of legal drinking age, my high school friends and I used to chug this stuff before class. I knew it would be good to at least smooth out the wrinkles. The shit was disgusting, though, and after the first swig, my stomach turned over on itself.
