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“You’re worrying too much about other things. So, you’re jealous that I was in the club and I had some blonde bimbo sucking my cock?”
His words struck me like the sharp lick of a whip.
“I don’t fuck care about anyone you fuck,” I spat, but we both knew this was a lie.
I couldn’t bloody stand it that he had another woman’s scent on his skin, that he’d allowed her close enough so she could touch him, when I was up here all alone.
“Your pretty mouth is telling tales because you do care and you want to suck my hard dick like a good wife?” he asked, doing unbelievable things to me with his tongue again. I thought he was going to pull my head down and make me blow him, but instead he stopped caressing my ass and continued to rub my clit instead. A jolt of electricity zipped over me and I was going to explode soon if he wouldn’t stop.
I shook my head, telling him wordlessly that this wasn’t true and that I hated him, for if I actually said something, Sebastian would pretend he didn’t hear me.
“You’re so fucking tight, so soaked for me, which means you like my touch and you would take my hard cock. Hmmm … let me tell you a secret, little teacup. I wanted Elize to blow me because I have been very stressed out lately. Everyone told me she gave the best head in the city … but it didn’t work. My cock failed to get hard because all the time I was thinking of you. I had to throw the bitch out of my office.”
I didn’t want to believe him. He probably fucked her hard and now he was lying to me, just so I wouldn’t feel bad.
“Please, I don’t want this,” I mumbled weakly, but what I didn’t want in reality was for him to stop because I could just feel I was going to come soon. A mind-bending orgasm was building inside me as he girded his fingers inside me, moving roughly in and out.
“Your wish is my command, wifey,” he said, and then pulled away from me before taking a step backwards. The kisses and the touching stopped and my sensitive flesh missed his contact. If he would just have continued to tease me a few more moments, I would have climaxed.
“What are you doing?” I asked, taking long deep breaths. He couldn’t possibly leave me like that, so turned on and throbbing. That was just cruel.
His expression was unreadable.
“You said you didn’t want me to touch you anymore, so I am not,” he explained, tilting his head to the side and licking me hungrily off his finger. Fuck, why did he have to do it so with such a passion, as though he could not get enough? At this point, my legs were shaking and my pulse was drumming in my ears.
“Good, so I can go now?” I asked, trying to summon a shred of dignity, but this wasn’t working so well because he knew I was on the verge of losing control. I just wasn’t the sort of person who’d ask him for any favors.
Elize was a woman from his club and apparently, he’d turned her away because of me. Well, I still wasn’t entirely convinced he was telling me the truth. And it wasn’t my fault that he didn’t get his blow job—as he said, this marriage was only a formality. I highly doubted he refused being serviced because I was on his mind. I’d die before I begged him to get me off. He still had no idea I had never been with any man before and for now, I needed to keep that to myself.
I’d simply have to take care of myself in the shower later, while thinking about that time in France…
“No, Marinka, you may not. I’m leaving tomorrow morning and while I’m gone, you cannot touch yourself. Do you understand me?”
My jaw dropped. He couldn’t be serious. How would he even know if I did touch myself or not?
“Why not?” I challenged, angry that he thought my body belong to him every minute of every day. What an absurd request.
He closed in on me again and the scent of his cologne made me so insanely aroused.
“Because you belong to me and I decide whenever and wherever you should come or not,” he said, pinning me against the wall once more. “I know you were so turned on right now, you were on the edge of getting your orgasm. If you ask me nicely, I might do something about it now.”
He caressed my face, every stroke in sync with the rhythm of my heartbeat. I opened my mouth to tell him to go fuck himself, but no sound came out of it. I wanted him to finish what he started, but my pride wouldn’t allow it.
My head swirled with so many conflicting emotions. I didn’t want him to go—this wasn’t fair.
“I need my husband to get me off,” I finally blurted out. My pride would suffer I supposed, but I told myself this wasn’t begging. The hatred for him remained, and I didn’t trust him. I braced myself for his mockery … his laughter in my face. For him to put me in my place with cruel intent.
But my words changed something in him—between us—because suddenly, his eyes were full of fire.
Need.
“Ah, wife, I can’t fucking wait to do that for you,” he growled.
And then, he did get me off. He turned me into a kaleidoscope of fireworks and I exploded all around him, like never before.
22
Sebastian
