AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Instead, I heard his voice tell me to clean him whilst he sat down again.
I closed my eyes to stop the prickling tears and bit my lip to stop the urge to plead for him to let me come. I was glad I had been empty and clean because this was one thing I hated. I turned to offer myself in the ultimate act of cleaning him with my tongue, tasting his come mixed with my own bitter taste, licking him until he was totally clean.
I hoped the throbbing between my legs would soon subside because I knew I would not get any pleasure until he was ready to allow it. I finished and he dismissed my ministrations by pushing me away and tidying up his clothes.
Finally, he took the lead that lay slack between my breasts and sighed. “Now, your punishment can begin.”
Chapter Thirteen
Mercy
Pulling up to the back door of the Gentlemen’s Club, I shut off my engine and leaned my head against the headrest as pictures of my wife’s body filtered in my brain.
Even after everything, I found it hard to believe that she had the audacity to put that collar on.
What the hell was she thinking?
An even better question was what the hell was I thinking?
I knew she hated that particular collar. Maybe that’s why I chose it. The surprise came when I observed the fear in her eyes and the trembling of her hands, a reaction I had not anticipated, as she gingerly picked up the object and adorned it around her neck.
Nor was my reaction to seeing her wear it.
The moment she fastened the collar around her neck, I felt something within me suddenly break. It was a tumultuous internal battle as one side of me yearned to forcefully remove the collar from her neck and administer punishment for her audacity in wearing it, while the other side felt a sense of contentment knowing that she had ultimately surrendered to my wishes.
Fuck.
Maybe Malice was right.
When it came to her, my emotions were in a constant state of flux, and I couldn’t seem to keep them under control. Perhapsit was necessary for me to visit the Playground and release some of my pent-up frustration, as the mere idea of causing harm to Largo was something I knew I would not be capable of dealing with.
My Largo was a strong woman. A woman who knew her own mind and wasn’t shy about putting anyone in their place. I half expected her to call me out on my shit, but she never did. Which only served to piss me off even more.
What kind of fucking game was she playing? She had to know she wouldn’t win. Not with her track record. Then there was the fact that her fabled story wasn’t adding up. I was at the point I didn’t know who or what to believe anymore. I wanted to believe that she was telling me the truth, but her actions and the evidence were slowly stacking up against her. Then there was the fact that she obediently agreed to my stipulations. No arguing, no back talk, nothing.
She wasn’t even fighting me on seeing Sophia, which I thought was odd. I knew Largo loved our daughter, adored her, gave her everything she wanted. I half expected her to march her cute little ass right up to me and demand I take her to our daughter.
Instead, I got nothing.
Not even a hint at dissidence.
In fact, she hadn’t fought me on anything.
Not the club punishment, not her confinement to the clubhouse, or the collar.
Why?
Stepping out of my truck, I looked up when I heard the back door open as Montana and Malice walked out.
“Well?”
I growled, slamming my door. “She took the collar.”
“And?”
“And she didn’t even put up a fucking fight. Bitch just picked it up and put it on as if it was nothing new.”
“So, she’s sticking with her story, then?” Montana asked.
