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Carefully, he withdrew and lowered me to the floor. My legs wobbled. He swept me into his arms.
His words echoed in my head.
My birth control shot will hold,right?
“Fucking hell,” someone murmured.
Oh shit.
I’d completely forgotten about my husband.
Chapter Three: Valor
I was unreasonably angry.
Wildly horny.
Jealousy gripped me in brutal jaws, and yet I’d humiliatingly come in my jeans and was hard all over again.
She’d tried to be quiet, had failed miserably, and now tears were streaming down her cheeks.
Had he been too rough? He’d manhandled her like she was a doll.
Or was she only overwhelmed…or was she upset about what I’d talked her into? She tried so hard to be perfectly submissive, but sometimes it was a terrifying responsibility knowing she expected me to be able to read her mind. Did I want to push her a little past her comfort zone tonight? Yes, but I absolutely didn’t want to traumatize her. She was my entire heart, and if I betrayed her trust in me, I would never forgive myself.
With a beautiful flex of muscle all along his shoulders and arms, he carried her into the bedroom. His back was broad and artfully sculpted, and narrowed to his waist and hips, where his leather pants had slid low, clinging to his body. When we’d picked him up at the club, I’d known objectively that he was hot, but I hadn’t realized how cut he was until hewas half naked. I’d noticed his scars at the club, but there were more than I’d anticipated. From a man’s perspective, the scars were cool, but I had no idea whether Tarryn found them attractive.
Watching him fuck her had been one of the most erotic experiences of my life, and yet it had twisted me up knowing she wanted him, and that his cock was inside her—inside the pussy of the woman I loved—sharing that intimate part of her that had only ever been mine.
That his cum, rather than mine, was dripping down her thighs.
No one else had ever even kissed her, let alone been inside her. Now some other man had come inside her, and I was frantic to get inside her again and replace his claim with my own.
The thought of sliding into her pussy when it had been left slick by some other man? It made my cock twitch so hard I worried I might get off again before I even got her alone.
He’d whispered that maybe he’d try to steal her, but my Nymph would never leave me. Not even for him.
She’d been mine since the day she’d been the new girl in our grade five class and I’d sat with her at lunch, basking under her fascinated and fascinating attention.
I’d been obsessed with her.
I still was.
Was I jealous? Fuck, yes. She had liked this more than I’d anticipated, and had looked for my support and validation less than I’d thought she’d need. She’d even opened his pants and had participated in the fucking, instead of lying passively, the way I’d imagined…the way I’d trained her to. Watching him pumping into her naked, helpless body, had been indescribably erotic, though. The arch of her body in his arms. His mouth on her. The interplay of muscle in his back and ass. The way his pants had slid low, showing me his body.
I wanted to see the rest of it.
I swallowed at the thought of seeing him entirely naked. My balls felt too tight again. What the fuck?
It was fine to appreciate the physique a man obviously worked hard on, right? Admiration wasn’t the same as desire. Anyone would inspect the hard bulges and flat planes of his body. It was the same urge as wanting to run fingers over sculpted marble.
Admiring beauty wasn’t inherently sexual.
Seeing her tight little pussy stretched around his big cock had been…
I shuddered, wishing I could have recorded some of it to replay later. Their expressions. The sight of their bodies fitting together. Her gorgeous tits mashed against his hard chest. His very vocal enjoyment of my beautiful, treasured wife.
The sight of his cum dripping from her swollen little cunt.
