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Chris brings back a wet cloth from my ensuite bathroom and kneels between my legs. I hiss when he presses it against my throbbing pussy.
“Are you hurting, baby?”
I’m lying with an arm slumped over my eyes, trying to ignore the fact I just let Chris fuck me like our lives depended on it.
“Of course, I’m hurting,” I groan. “You clearly have never been fucked by someone with your dick size.”
He chuckles, the cloth disappears from between my legs, and he pulls my arm away from my face. “Go pee.”
I groan, but I sit up anyway. “Stop taking care of me.”
I walk to my bathroom, take care of my business, and come back to him still sitting on my bed. He’s topless now, and only in his boxers. His light brown hair is tousled from the session we just had, his eyes still shining from the pleasure.
He has a smirk plastered on his handsome, golden boy face.
And a ball gag in his hand.
Myball gag to be precise.
“Where the hell did you find that?” I stride to him, attempting to rip it out of his hand, but he pulls it away before I can.
“So, you have one of these in your bedside table now?”
I steel myself, a defense of words rushing through my mouth.
“Not for you to use. I just bought it because…” I shift on my feet, suddenly realizing how uncomfortable I am to be completely naked in front of him. “First of all, who do you think you are?” I snatch a silk robe from a hanger right next to me by bed, sliding an arm inside the sleeve. “You can’t just go through my drawers.” I slide the other half on, fiddling with the belt. “And stop looking at me like that. That isn’t for…you…”
He waits, a small, expectant smile on his lips as he watches me silently while I make a fool of myself.
“Just put it back,” I huff, shoulders sagging as I give up on tying the belt around my waist. I wrap the robe around my body, crossing my arms over my chest as if to protect myself from his overwhelming presence.
Our eyes are locked together as I watch him rise to his full height. My head tilts back as he steps closer…and closer, until my neck is strained from trying to keep up with the six-foot-four immovable wall standing a hair-width away from me.
“Tell me you use it on yourself.” His voice is low now. The rasp of jealousy is barely audible in it.
Keeping the ball gag in his left hand, he brings the right to my face. His warm fingers splay on my cheeks, the tips at my hairline as his thumb caresses my lower lip.
“Ella.” The growl is lacking the control and prudence everyone knows Chris for. “Say it. Say it’s not because you use it with other men.”
I relish in the basic instincts that leave him. Jealousy, possession,regret. I’ve been forced to feel those things. I didn’t ask to have my heart broken and to know he was dating another woman far away from me. It was his choice. He brought it on himself. This is his punishment.
“This is not something you need to know. I don’t owe you explanations.”
He slowly pushes his thumb inside my mouth, hooking it to my lower teeth and pulling my mouth open.
“Say it,” he repeats, but I shake my head. “Tell me you’ve not given someone else that side of you.”
I haven’t, but he doesn’t need to know that the sex I’ve had with his replacements was vanilla.
For a few seconds he is as still as a statue. That’s before his hand leaves my mouth to clamp the nape of my neck.
He drags me with him to the bed, pulling me down over his lap as he sits down.
“Do you want to play? I know Daddy’s little slut likes her games.”
“I’m not playing!” I fight back, squirming on his lap, my head upside down.
He pulls the silk up, sliding his hand all the way up my thigh until it settles just below my ass cheeks.
