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I groan through my teeth. “Do you have a point, or…”
“Just fulfilling my husband duties and sexually satisfying my wife,” he says. “According to my lawyer, that’s required. So smile for the camera!”
I close my eyes just as he takes a fucking selfie of us, the screen going white to shed enough light on us. When I open them again, it takes a second for the white spots to recede.
“You are an asshole.”
“Obviously.”
All this time, and he hasn’t touched me more than at my hip. Now, though, he pushes at the hem of my shirt. Lifting it higher, until it’s up past my breasts.
“I was thinking about what you said,” he says, more to my tits than my face. He leans down and licks my nipple, groaning a little.
It feels good. And bad.
And good.
He keeps lapping at it until it’s stiff, and I can’t help but try to squirm away. But his hand on my hip presses down, keeping me steady.
“Knox,” I exhale.
He makes a noise in the back of his throat and finally moves down, kissing the scar. It tingles, the sensation never fully returning after the surgery. Lower, across my stomach and to my panties. Which he pulls down easily, past my knees and off my legs entirely.
“I was thinking about your toll.” He shifts, moving my leg up. His breath hits my core. “I didn’t pay it.”
“That’s okay?—”
“I really want to pay it.”
And then his mouth is on me.
His fingers dig into my thighs, my ass. Dragging me closer, until my arms are straight and I’ve got nothing to grab on to for purchase. The tie is tight around my wrists, and he’s holding me hostage while his mouth?—
I close my eyes. He licks and sucks with an expertise that makes me want to kick him. Because he learned how to do that somewhere, and I doubt it was a magazine. Or porn.
“You can stop now,” I warn when my hips buck. “You should stop.”
“I think I want to taste you come on my tongue.” He looks up at me. “I think I want to hear it, too.”
I blow out a breath. “Well, you’re in for disappointment.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Yeah,” I lie.
He goes back to my pussy. Which is really… I mean… nope, words are failing me. My hips buck involuntarily again, and I try desperately to twist away from him. I’m going to have bruises from how tightly he grips my thighs and ass.
When his finger runs down my center, I groan. And it keeps going, until he pushes it against my asshole.
“Knox,” I gasp. “Don’t.”
He sucks on my clit and thrusts his finger deeper, fucking my ass. Which, I’ll be honest, is not something I was expecting to feel remotely good. But it does. He’s doing something to me that I don’t understand.
I hit a new dimension.
My vision and hearing go out, and who knows what I say. Or do. All I know is the extreme pleasure burning through me, and the way he brings me back down, the orgasm’s aftershocks ringing through me.
He pulls away, and I go limp.
