Page 30 of Crave

She is always so fucking beautiful when she sleeps.

Kneeling beside the bed, I tentatively place my hand on her bare leg, unsure if I want to wake her or enjoy watching her sleep. I slowly glide my hand up her supple thigh, she stirs slightly and rolls away from me onto her side. As she does, the blanket pulls from her hip and exposes her lace covered ass.

“Tsk. Tsk.Mi reina,” I quietly whisper to myself while pulling a knife from my pocket. It slides through the fabric with ease as I cut the lace from her body. My lips graze over her skin and I place a light kiss on her hip before I stand.

Fighting the urge to climb into bed with her, I place the shredded lace on the pillow I want to lay my head on.

“Tomorrow,mi reina,” I place a soft kiss on her temple and gathering some things, leaving as quietly as I entered.

twenty five

ALEXYS

The sun blares through the windows as my eyelids flutter open. My head throbs as I roll over to look at the time. It’s nearly noon.

Maybe opening that second bottle of wine wasn’t such a good idea.

Getting up to pee, I make it halfway to the adjoining bathroom before realizing that I’m not wearing any panties.

Was I so drunk last night I didn’t actually put them on?

Padding across the hardwood floor, I stop in my tracks when I see the remnants of the panties, I was wearing last night. They lay on the pillow next to a note and the perfectly folded tie from the parking garage. Walking around the bed, I lift the panties, which are now nothing more than shreds of lace, before grabbing the note.

So defiant, mi reina. Did you enjoy your punishment that much? Too bad. Next time you want me to mark your ass, you’ll have to ask.

What the fuck does that even mean?

I’m about to climb back into bed when I turn to look at my dresser. “He wouldn’t,” I mumble to myself as I cross the room and open the drawer that contains my panties. More correctly, the drawer that used to contain my panties.

Every pair is gone.

Even the period panties that no man should ever see.

Storming back into the bathroom, I dump the hamper and rummage through my dirty clothes. There’s not a single pair to be found.

“Ugh,” the groan billows from me as I practically stomp toward the bed and grab my phone.

Did you really sneak in here and steal all of my underwear?

Good morning to you too.

And yes, every last pair.

What the fuck?

Are you mad I didn’t wake you?

Because I definitely thought about fucking your mouth or claiming that ass of yours, since my sore little cunt needed a break.

Fucking asshole.

That’s not what you’ll be saying when I fuck your asshole. Speaking of, does mi reina prefer a cock or a tongue in her ass?

Even though he can’t see me—at least I’m pretty sure he can’t—heat spreads up my cheeks as I read his text. Men have never said things to me like he does, let alone give any inclination that they would be interested in tongue-fucking my ass.

No answer, mi reina? Do you not know which you prefer?

Or has that perfectly round ass of yours never been fucked?

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