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“Me.” His middle finger skims over the hood of my clit—a barely there touch that leaves fire in its wake. I’m already close; my skin prickles with the pleasure overtaking my senses, and my husband knows this. Cupping me with his full hand, he presses the palm down over my clit and squeezes. “It’ll always be me.”
That one squeeze. Those four words.
“Oh, fuck,” I whimper as my orgasm slams into me so fast and hard that my knees wobble and all I can do is grip his hand as my hips work to prolong the bliss I’m under. And through it all, Javier continues to grind and encourage, to press harder on the trembling bundle of nerves that throbs in his hold. “So good. I’m—”
“You’re mine, Mrs. Lucas.” His breathing is heavy and his cock swelling, dripping onto my skin as the first rope of come leaves him. I feel each pulse. I can almost taste him on my tongue, and I’m ready for tomorrow and the surprise it will bring. For him. For me. “Not even death can tear us apart.”
With a few soft strokes, Javier pulls his hand away, much to my protest, and finishes washing me. No words are spoken and I’m barely able to keep my eyes open, exhaustion from the traveling and his touch kicking in, and I don’t protest his carrying me out nor drying me.
All I can do is whisper I love you after he lays me down on our bed and I give in to the soft sheets and his warm body spooning around mine.
Tomorrow.
3
“WAKEY WAKEY, PAPI.”
“Five more minutes, Muñeca.”
“Well, that’s just unacceptable,” she croons a second before the sound of a click comes into focus and my eyes snap open. The sight that greets me is more than a fantasy, more like a holy apparition. Dear, Lord...gracias. For whatever I’ve done to deserve this, thank you. “Do I have your attention now?”
“You do.” My eyes traverse her short frame clad in a halter bustier and minuscule panties that barely cover her mound in leather. Then lower, and the bottom of her provocative top is attached to fishnet garter belts with the band in the same fabric as her lingerie, and my mouth waters.
My cock throbs.
Mariah isn’t wearing any shoes as she stands atop the bed with a crop in her hand and bottom lip caught between her teeth. Motherfuck, she’s beautiful. A dominant temptress, and I’ll play her game now and return the favor later.
She’s standing above me with a sinful leg outside of each of mine and drops into a squat, displaying just how little the piece of cloth between her thighs covers. From her pussy to her face, my eyes flicker back and forth until the reality of what she’s done dawns on me.
I can’t reach out. I can’t touch her.
This naughty little doll has bound me to our bed with two metal cuffs around my ankles and silk ties on my wrists. A tug checks the tension and strength of the tactile and they seem to be secured with enough knots to hold me off, but not forever.
My legs are a different story altogether as I’ll need the key to unlock, but I’m not worried. She’ll falter. She’ll break down with need and I’ll be here to take advantage—fuck her into submission.
Mariah has no idea of the delicious gift she’s presented me with.
“Good morning, Mr. Lucas.”
“Good morning, beautiful.” Her brow arches at my nonchalance, but she’s a smart woman and knows what makes me weak, too. So she’ll attack me with something that never fails to drive me past rationality and into a demonic compulsion to gloss those pouty lips with my come after kissing the back of her throat with my cock. “Anything you’d like to say...”
“No.”
“No?” At my mock incredulous tone, my wife nods and then lowers her ruby-red-stained lips to my abdomen. Little kisses are laid upon each indentation—marking her territory with her favorite Hermes red lipstick. She’s slow in her ascent, leaving behind a hot trail across my flesh before stopping at my chin where she nips the skin. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Amused seafoam eyes meet my brown ones, the cockiness in them only serving to cement the plans formulating—how I’ll make her pay. “Last chance to make the right decision, sweetheart. After this, remember that there’s no apologizing or pleading; I’ll return the favor tenfold and without mercy.”
“Says the man who’s tied to this bed. At my mercy.”
“Five.” Her smirk widens at this, and dainty fingers walk down my side and toward the deep V she loves. “Four.”
“Three. Two.” The blunt of her nails trail the skin there and down, not stopping until she touches the base of my cock. Tracing the skin, she follows the path up the underside until reaching the engorged head; I’m throbbing and the beads of pre-come at the slit wet the tip of her digit as she spreads it around the taut skin. “One.”
“I won’t apologize.”
“And I’m not afraid.” With the tip of her tongue, Muñeca traces my mouth from right to left and then nibbles on my upper lip. All the while, she begins to pump me slowly. Torturously. “Do your worst, but that’ll be a little hard with you being tied. Your threats hold no weight at the moment, mi amor.”
“Ten minutes.”
