Page 70 of Twisted Tate

She got what she needed three months ago when I killed her fucking father, but I knew it would take time to work through it all. But I’ll always be here to give her what she needs to come back to me. The dreams are less frequent now, but they still come.

She woke up gasping ten minutes ago, still asleep as she fought to find her breath. I have always been a light sleeper, so I guide her where she needs to be.

Now she’s on her stomach between my legs, her head in my lap, my dick resting heavily on her tongue. She’s not sucking to get me off. She’s just holding me there, breathing through her nose, letting the weight of me anchor her to the present.

I stroke her hair and watch the tension drain from her shoulders.

“That’s my good girl.” I keep my voice low. We’re in my old bedroom at the Sinclair family estate, here for my father’s birthday. Being outside of our normal bedroom at our new house might have triggered this restless night. “You’re safe. I’ve got you, baby girl.”

She makes a small sound of appreciation around my cock.

I never want gratitude from her. My wife needs something, and I’m the lucky bastard who gets to give it to her.

Her breathing evens out. Her body goes soft against the mattress. And then her tongue starts to move.

She drags the flat of her tongue along the underside of my cock, and my hips jerk off the bed.

“Reese.”

She looks up at me, my dick still in her mouth, and the fear is gone from her eyes. What’s left makes my balls tighten.

She pulls off just enough to speak. “Fuck my mouth.”

I don’t ask if she’s sure. I stopped asking weeks ago. My girl knows what she wants, and she knows all she has to do is tell me.

I fist my hand in her hair and shove her back down.

She gags when I hit the back of her throat, and the sound goes straight to my dick. I hold her there, watching her eyes water, feeling her struggle to breathe around me.

“Look at you.” I start to thrust, using her mouth because it belongs to me. “Choking on my cock like a good little wife.”

She moans, and I feel the vibration everywhere.

I fuck her face just how she knows I like it. Her tears stream down her cheeks. Spit drips from her chin onto my thighs. She takes every inch I give her, gagging and never once trying to pull away.

This is the same woman who learned to go somewhere else in her head while men used her body.

Now she begs me to use her. And the difference is that she wants this. She chose this. She chose me. And if she told me to stop, I would fucking stop.

“Fuck.” The pressure builds at the base of my cock. “I’m going to come down your throat if you keep that up, baby girl.”

She sucks harder. But that’s not how I want to finish. I need my wife.

I pull her off my dick by her hair. She gasps for air, her lips swollen and wet, her face a mess of tears and spit.

“On your knees, baby girl.” I shove her toward the center of the bed. “Get that sexy ass up in the air for me.”

She scrambles to obey. I grab her hips before she’s even settled and slam inside her. She’s soaking wet, and I want her too fucking much to be gentle.

She screams into the mattress.

“Yell as loud as you want, baby girl.” I grip the back of her neck and press her face harder into the bed. “Let my whole fucking family hear how desperate you are for your husband’s dick.”

She whimpers, but the sound is muffled. I start to move, fucking her hard and deep, my fingers digging into her hip.

“Tate.” She’s shaking beneath me. She comes without warning, her whole body locking up, her pussy spasming around me. I fuck her through it, not slowing down, not giving her a chance to recover.

“I didn’t say you could come.” I pull out and flip her onto her back. Her eyes are glazed, her chest heaving. I grab her thighs and spread them wide. “Now I have to punish you, baby girl.”