“You’re not a good boy. Good boys don’t get rewarded,” she whispered.
Good boy? GODDDDDD.
I was a fucking lunatic for her. I wanted that praise. Fuckinglivedfor it.
I slumped against the wall, immobilized by her intensity.
She stepped back, hands on my chest.
“Take my dress off.”
I obeyed, savoring the curve of her back as I unzipped her, careful not to drag the zipper too close to her bandage.
She had been my obsession, my everything for years. And now she was my wife. I was going to worship every inch of her.
The dress fell. She slid off her bra and stood in front of me—bare, trembling, fucking mine. My gaze dragged over her curves, every slope, until my eyes caught on the bandage stretched tight across her ribs. The stark white reminder of what he did. A reminder of how close I came to losing her.
She shifted slightly, one hand brushing the edge of the gauze, like she was still getting used to it being there.
The sight of it should’ve made me pull back, but instead it ignited something sick and primal in me. That mark wasn’t a weakness; it was proof she’d survived. I wanted to tear the bandage off with my teeth and kiss the scar beneath.
She was alive because of me. And I’d kill anyone who dared look at her and see anything but perfection because she was perfection to me.
She dragged her eyes down my naked body.
“Mmmm… Silver lining, I’ve got a husband who looks good in clothes, and out of them,” she teased.
My hands were itching to touch her. But she hadn’t permitted me yet. I was trying sofucking hardto follow her rules.
She slid her underwear down and bent to remove her heels. I muttered, “Keep them on.”
I wanted to look at her more. I had seen her naked, but this was the first time we were both standing in front of each other like this.
I wanted more time to reconnect with her, but she wasn’t interested. She nodded, took my chin in her hand, and her nails dug into me.
“I didn’t tell you to talk. Get on the bed.”
I practically sprinted to the king-sized bed, jumping like a dog in a pile of leaves, and lying back. I was entirely at her mercy, and I loved it.
“You want me in control, don’t you?” she whispered.
“Yes,” I whispered back.
I felt her close to me as she started to settle her body on top of mine. Her hand closed around my throat, surprisingly tight for someone who’d been stabbed two weeks ago.
“I’m going to punish you. Make you hurt. You like being punished, right, baby?”
“Oh… fuck yeah,” I swallowed. “Hit me, bite me, choke me.”
She loosened her grip on my throat, settling her hips down on mine. She started moving herself up and down my cock. She was fucking soaked. I could slip in any moment, but I was letting her call the shots. I groaned, tilting my head up to the ceiling, when she started rolling her hips.
“You gonna be loud for me? You want everyone to hear us?”
“I can be loud.” My voice was rough. “I want everyone to know my wife is fucking me.”
She gasped sharply. She could fight, resist, tease, but I knew she craved this as much as I did.
“Tell me you don’t love it,” I smirked.
