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The orgasm that hits is the most powerful I’ve ever felt. It tears through my body as my muscles grip the plug and him, holding both deep inside me, hungry for his cum.
I want it in my pussy, in my ass, on my face, all over my body. I want to be his. I want him to claim me again. To show the world I belong to him.
He slams into me as my orgasm is still washing over me. “I’m going to fill you up,” he says. “You’ve been a good girl, Ophelia. My good girl. My fucking filthy wife.” As he says those last words, I feel it happening.
His cock jerks deep inside me, hot wetness spurting from the end and filling me up. More sprays from his cock as he thrusts again, a groan escaping his lips at the same time.
I rock back onto him, greedy for every last drop. He slides free a moment later, just as my own climax starts to slowly fade away.
I collapse onto my side and find him looking at me, a warm smile on his face. He leans over and kisses me softly on the lips.
He looks like he’s about to say something. His mouth opens but then he frowns, getting to his feet. “Stay there,” he snaps at me, making me wince at the volume of his voice.
He storms out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him, leaving me wondering what the hell just happened.
Thirty-Eight
Vincenzo
Idon’t expect her to come after me. Not with the plug still inside her and especially not when I expressly told her to remain there.
I need to be on my own.
I almost said it. The words I vowed never to say to anyone. I will not say it. I cannot do it. I must not let her think she can get close to me.
She can’t. I’m too broken inside.
I march out of the front door and sit on the rocking chair on the porch. The breeze is cool on my naked skin but I’m burning hot with anger.
Why am I so filled with rage?
It’s not hard to work out. Before I could stop myself, I almost told her I loved her. That would have been the death knell for what we have.
I know exactly how it would go. I only have to look at myself to see. This is who I am and that’s never going to change.
It’s a simple equation. You let someone get close to you, you open up to them. That’s how that goes. Opening up means removing your armor. That makes you vulnerable. I vowed never to be vulnerable again, never to feel again, not after what happened.
I will never let myself get hurt in that way. It almost broke me and I’m not that person anymore. I won’t be that person ever again.
I don’t need anyone. I can take care of myself. This is just about using her. For sex, sure, but also for dominating. Most importantly, I get to take over the eastern seaboard. All of it. My empire.
That’s what matters. Not this bullshit emotion that’s trying to betray me.
A hand falls on my shoulder and I almost grab it and break the neck of the person who jumped me. Then I see it’s her. I stop my hands from reacting just in time, snapping to tell her off.
“I told you to stay where you were.”
She’s got a yellow dressing gown wrapped around her. She’s looking at me with sympathetic eyes I don’t deserve anywhere near me. “What happened back there?” she asks.
“Nothing happened. You’re breaking the rules and you will be punished if you do not return to the bedroom this instant.” My voice is getting louder but she doesn’t wince or run.
Instead, she sinks to her knees, putting her head on my leg and simply remaining there. “I don’t think you want me to go,” she says in a quiet voice. “I think you’re afraid right now and you’re lashing out.”
She knows me so well already, it’s not a good sign. Open equals vulnerable. I will not allow that. I need to shut it down before it gets any worse.
I get to my feet, almost pushing her away. “You will remain here,” I tell her, walking back into the house. “I am going for a hike.”
I grab a set of clothes and dress, furious that she has seen through my anger into what’s really going on in my head. I go back outside to find her exactly where I left her. “What are you doing?” I ask.
