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“Then you better be quick or you’ll be signing them on your feet because you won’t be able to sit down for a week.”
I look at him. There’s a flicker of a smile at the corner of his lips. I want him so much when I see that smile, the one only I ever get from him.
I bend over the chair next to me, reaching back and flicking up my skirt to reveal my thong. “I don’t think you get to wear that,” he says. “I’m half minded to send you out there naked seeing as you like them all looking at you so much.”
“You wouldn’t,” I say, looking back at him as he rips my thong from my body. “Would you?”
“Not this time but don’t test me. You won’t like the result.”
He raises his hand and slaps it down on my ass. “I told you to spread your cheeks.”
I do as he says, feeling his eyes examining the most intimate parts of me. “Already wet,” he says, running a hand over my pussy. “You like them seeing you naked, don’t you?”
“Maybe a little.”
“But your body is for me alone, remember that.”
“I will.” I say nothing else. His hand slaps down on my ass again, pushing the air out of my lungs. Before the sting has died down, he’s sliding a plug into my ass. I tremble in place, the now familiar sensation spreading through me. A moan escapes me as his other hand toys with my clit.
“Such a bad girl,” he says, pushing the plug all the way home. “Though I must confess something.”
He unzips his pants, pressing the tip of his cock to my pussy, his hips leaning onto my ass.
“What?” I ask him. “What is it?”
“I knew it was a nude all along.” As he speaks, he thrusts all the way inside me. “I saw the work in progress. I bought it when it was done. I want it in the wall of my study so I can look up and see your body any time I wish.” He continues to thrust, one hand on the plug, moving it from left to right, making my moans all the louder.
“Any excuse to punish me,” I manage to say, moving one hand to my clit, stroking it frantically, thinking how we would look if anyone accidentally opened the door behind us, what they would see, how shocked they would be.
“Come for me,” he tells me, thrusting faster. “I want you throbbing and aching while you finish signing those books. Come for me, Ophelia. Come around my cock. Be my good girl.”
His voice tips me over the edge, same as it always does. My orgasm races toward me and just as it’s about to hit, I feel his cock spurting deep into my pussy. I grip him in place, my muscles holding the plug and his cock far inside me. I’m filled by him, my whole body shaking with the climax I’ve wanted all morning ever since I woke up.
Luckily for me, my husband is as insatiable as I am about this. He wants me as much as when we first met.
Every day we end up in the basement, either for punishment, pleasure, or sleep. Often all three. None are as good as this moment, this perfect moment as we come at the same time.
He slides slowly from me, tugging my skirt back down. “I think you should hurry with signing the last of those books,” he says.
“And why’s that?”
“Because the plug stays in until you’re done.”
He pushes his cock back into his pants, crossing to the door, looking down at my body and smiling. “Think about what just happened next time you plan on surprising me like that.”
“I did,” I reply with a wink.
He opens the door, waiting for me to walk out with him. I take a step forward, feeling him leaking onto my thighs. It’s a sensation that makes me feel dirty and hot and sinful all at once. I’m still getting used to that feeling.
I walk out, taking shuffling steps to the signing table. I sit down, the plug pushing up into me. Keeping my face as neutral as possible, my legs tightly crossed, I continue signing for my new readers.
The entire time, Vincenzo watches me. I know he’s planning something else. He’s always planning something.
I guess I’ll just have to wait to find out what it is. Until then, I make do with looking at him and feeling all the love in my heart for the man who made me who I am. A lust filled woman totally besotted with her gorgeous hunk of a husband.
I smile at him, shifting in place, the plug moving inside my ass. “I love you,” I mouth, rubbing the bump on my tummy without realizing I’m doing it. “I want you in me.”
“Later,” he mouths back. “As long as you’re a good girl.” Then before returning to the queue of suitors waiting to approach to beg favors, like he’s a king.
So he is. King of the room. King of the city. And most of all, the king of me.
I might have to be good to get what I want. But I know that to get what I need tonight, as ever, I’m going to have to be very, very bad.
