Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
“Is that what you believe? You must think I’m lazy then, sweet Savvy. Is that what you think about your Dom?” His face looms closer to mine.
A wave of shocked panic rushes over me. “What? No! I—”
“No? Then what? Maybe you think I’m not good enough anymore, that it takes too long for me to be able to make you come. Do I bore you, wife?” His tone is almost menacing, and my heart leaps to my throat.
“N-No! Of course not.”
“I’m glad. And you know why it’s not too much work for me?” he asks, but the question is rhetorical, because he doesn’t wait to force me to answer before he tells me, “Because nothing is more satisfying in this world than when I do.”
His head dips to nip at my neck when I turn my head to pull more air into my lungs. I’m so overwhelmed, not just by everything that’s been said, revealed, and learned in the past several hours, but by my husband himself. He’s a force to be reckoned with, and when he comes at me all at once like a tornado that didn’t show up on any type of warning radar, I feel close to panic.
But he knows.
He knows that’s the fastest way to—
“Oh fuck,” I groan as he shoves his arm between us, his hand making quick work of my button and zipper, and then his finger sinks into me in one smooth, steady motion.
“Fuuuck, Savvy. You’re so goddamn wet,” he informs me, a hint of surprise mixed with satisfaction in his voice.
So it appears you are, the sultry bitch from earlier confirms. His fantasy isn’t as bad as you thought, huh?
“Does my wife approve of my dark desire after all?” Rome practically purrs in my ear, and it makes a shiver run down my entire body at how close his question is to the thought I just had, hardening my nipples against my soft bra cups. I didn’t change out of what I was wearing when we got home like he did, maybe subconsciously keeping them on as a protective shield.
What little good that did.
And then he begins to speak again in that deep, sexy voice of his, the menacing tone evaporated, his finger languidly moving in and out of me, never speeding up or going quite deep enough, and I know I’ll soon be a goner.
“I want to show this tight little pussy off. Brag to everyone that it belongs to me. That this beautiful woman chose me above all others. And when a man tries to doubt just how perfect this soaking-wet cunt is, I want to give him a taste, let him have a sample, show him how wrong he fucking is, proof I own the best pussy there’s ever been. I’ll make him eat his words… and then your cunt as an apology for questioning it.”
Then, like he holds the only remote that controls my body, he flattens the pad of his thumb on my clit and hooks the finger that’s inside me, pressing the magical combination of buttons in just the right way that sends me straight into orbit.
I inhale sharply as I come, and just as I go to let all the air out of my lungs in a scream of absolute ecstasy, his mouth slams to mine, trapping the sound in my throat as he wrings every ounce of the orgasm out of me by pumping his finger and circling his thumb. My tight jeans and panties are no match for the strength in my husband’s wrist. He’s unstoppable, and I almost laugh at how I thought everything I wore today would protect me from Rome’s determination to bring me pleasure.
When my inner walls finally cease their milking, he pulls his hand out of my pants and stares me in the eye as he licks his finger clean of the wetness coating his flesh, then sucks the end of his thumb before pulling it out of his mouth with a light pop. I suck something too—air into my lungs, because I forgot to breathe for a minute.
He smirks. “Yeah, that was so much work. So hard, such a feat, to make you scream while you come for me,” he throws my words back at me, making my face feel hot since he so easily proved me wrong.
He crawls backward until he’s in his spot on the couch once again, but not without tugging me out from where I melted into the cushions. Then he drapes me over his lap to cuddle me against his chest while he picks up right where we left off before the interruption of my dirty thoughts.
“The third and final category, the Vixen and Stag. The wife is known as the Vixen, and the husband is the Stag. Often, she is submissive. She enjoys being cared for—” He tucks his head down just long enough to kiss my neck and breathe me in deep before sitting up again. “—and made to feel like a prized possession. In this dynamic, she follows her stag’s lead.” He pauses. “Hm, according to this though, while the stag has all the sexual power, which fits my fantasy, it says he’s also usually the one who picks the partner and all the details of the when and where. But I guess what I want is similar, since I’d give you a list of men I’d vet, and you’d make the final decision of which one out of my list. In comparison to the other two categories, I’d say this one is what we should focus on in our research—the Vixen and Stag.”