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“And who owns you?”

“You do,” I breathe.

“Good girl.”

Damn it, that almost sends me soaring. I’m a blindfolded cliché.

“West…”

“Hush. I’m looking at how pretty you are. All pink and flushed and desperate for me.”

I blush at the fact that I’m so exposed.

“Tell me how you’re feeling,” he murmurs.

“Turned on,” I mutter, becausehello, needy wife here.

“I can see that, sweetheart.” He chuckles. “What else?”

Oh, so this is the plan. Make me say everything. All the things I didn’t tell him before.

“I’m feeling exposed. Raw. I’m worried that my body isn’t that pretty. I’m scared that I’m going to come whether you touch me or not and that you’ll punish me if I do.” The words tumble out. “I’m scared because I love this way too much. I love it when you call me a good girl and I’m pretty sure my feminism card is going to be revoked.”

“You have such an interesting brain, do you know that?” he asks softly, kissing my thigh again. “And don’t ever think your body isn’t perfect.” He trails his finger along it and I gasp. “It’s so damn beautiful I want a painting of it on my wall.”

“Like The Cunt of Monte Cristo,” I mutter.

I feel the rumble of his laugh against my skin. And before I can point out that,ahem, I’m very, very close, his mouth envelops me, making the pleasure shoot through me.

“You can come,” he murmurs, and then he slides his fingers inside of me, his tongue circling until I shatter into a thousand pieces. I arch my back, screaming out his name, and not once does he relent. Even when I’m coming down, he’s devouring me, seeking out the pleasure, until I’m a sweaty mess on the bed.

“I—” I try to sit up.

“We’re not done,” he tells me, pushing me back down. He doesn’t stop. His tongue is merciless, teasing me until I’m reaching the heights again, forcing my over-stimulated body into overdrive. I clutch the sheets, muttering something unintelligible as he pushes me into a second orgasm, my breath shattering as I call out his name.

“God, West…”

“Still not done.”

That’s when I realize that these orgasms are my punishment. He drags his mouth away, only to replace it with his fingers. The rough pad circling my sensitive flesh. Then I hear the sound of a drawer opening.

And an insistent buzz.

Not the vibrator. “I don’t… West…”

“Do you trust me?” he asks again.

“Yes.” My voice cracks, but it’s still the truth.

“Then hush.” He pushes the vibrator inside of me, like he knows how much I need to be filled. It’s too much and it isn’tenough. My third orgasm is hard, fast, and I pulse so hard around the vibrator I think I might break it.

But it isn’t him. I need him.

“Please…”

“Please what?” His voice is a rasp. Like he’s enjoying this as much as I am.

“I want you inside of me.”