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"It isn't a joke." I grab her by the knees and push them wide, so I can easily see her pink swollen pussy glistening with arousal. Fuck, my cock is like granite. "Jesus, look at you. I haven't touched you yet and you're dripping on my table."

"Then do something about it."

She's soaked. It's running down the inside of her thighs onto the steel. She tries to close her legs, perhaps summoning some last shred of pride. I hold them open with both hands. She can't hide from me.

"You are a freak, you know that," I tell her. "If only I knew before that the sight of blood affects you like this…"

She bites on her bottom lip but says nothing. The deep flush on her cheeks are telling, though.

"There's something profoundly wrong with you, ma macabre." I crouch down between her legs, on the floor I mopped in bleach, and couldn't care less. "Thank the stars for it."

I shove my face into her cunt and she moans loudly, nearly bucking off the table. Her thighs clamp around my head. Laying my forearm across her belly, I press her flat onto the steel because she isn't running this tonight. She can't push me off. She can't get a fist in my hair, which she loves doing and I love more. She can do absolutely nothing but stay there strapped and take it like the good little wife she is.

"Don't stop. Don't you dare!"

I'm not stopping and I know exactly how she likes it. I lick her slowly, savoring it, right over her clit, again and again until her hips start chasing my mouth. Then I push my tongue inside her and fuck her with it while she praises God. She tastes like the sweetest honey. I move back up to her clit, harder this time, sucking it into my mouth until she's screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Look at me," I say.

She lifts her head. Her hair's stuck to her face and her eyes are barely open yet, from what I can see, filled with need and want. I want her to look at me that way for the rest of my life. Not with fear or caution like so many others do.

"Whatever you did down here," she says, "I don't care."

Her palms are flat on the steel behind her as she opens her legs wider. "I like it here," she says, as if she's confessing to herself more than to me.

I nearly lose my mind.

I suck her clit into my mouth and push two fingers into her at the same time, curled up the way she likes. She's so wet my hand's a mess, moisture down to my wrist. Her pussy clamps down and grips me so hard I have to work to move.

“Ma macabre, your pussy is wrecking my hand. Give it to me, baby. Give it to me now…”

I feel a tremor start deep inside her, and then her whole body locks. Her thighs shake against my ears. Her back arches right off the steel and she drags the table across the tiles with her “Laszlo! Shit, yes!” I keep my mouth on her the whole way through it, holding her hips down while she comes apart. She's soaking my chin, my hand, and the table underneath her.

Then she folds forward onto my shoulder and stays there—that's my wife done for the evening.

I hold her for a while, then reach over and get the strap off her. I check both wrists. There's a faint mark on the left one that'll be gone soon enough. I caress it.

She's got her forehead on my shoulder and her hands are already at my belt.

"No."

"Yes."

"Manon."

"You didn't come."

"I'm aware. I was here for it." I take her hands off me and hold them, which is so easy because there's nothing left in her. "Time for bed."

"I could suck you off in five minutes."

"You couldn't suck me off in five minutes if I paid you. You can’t keep your eyes open."

"They're resting."

"You'd fall asleep with it in your mouth." I pick my ruined shirt off the floor in a swift motion and put it round her shoulders. I can’t let her go or she’d fall off the table. "Arms."

"This is insulting."