Total pages in book: 11
Estimated words: 9925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 50(@200wpm)___ 40(@250wpm)___ 33(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 9925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 50(@200wpm)___ 40(@250wpm)___ 33(@300wpm)
Before I think twice, I exit the dressing room to show him the dress. As I walk out, I find Ryan waiting for me. He's fuming, I can tell just by the way he looks.
He shakes his head. "We need to talk."
CHAPTER 4
RYAN
Rachel left me there in the waiting room. I was sitting with my phone in my hand, waiting for the photo to come through. When it did, I had a smile on my face, expecting one thing. But when I opened my message app and saw the photo she sent, I knew she wanted to play games.
I don't mind, of course, that's a part of our dynamic. She likes to play the part of a brat, and I like to play the part of her Dominant. I tell her what to do, and she loves to give me control.
Look, I'm not saying this is how every marriage should operate, but it's working for us. Our sex life is hotter than ever. When we met, we were pretty vanilla. But as we got to know one another sexually, we learned a few things.
I learned that she likes to play games, bend the rules. And I learned that I like to take control and to tell her when she can come, when she can't, what she can wear, what is indecent.
It’s no one’s place to judge the way we like to spice things up. To each their own, and for us, it's fucking hot.
Lately, we've been teasing out this fantasy of public displays of affection, fucking where we shouldn't, to see how far we can take things. There's a thrill in it, a bit of excitement, a rush.
Rachel and I both had pretty similar childhoods. We were raised by conservative parents and never got the chance to be rebels. Now, we're having fun, and we're not hurting anybody. We're just giving ourselves permission to do what feels right.
But when I open that photo and I see my girl wearing that white heart thong over her blue jeans, I can't help but chuckle.
Of course I want to be mad, and I will show her that I'm mad, but deep inside, I love that she's giving herself permission to be silly, to have fun.
Life doesn't have to be all work and no play. Hell, she works hard enough Monday through Friday, the same as me. On the weekends or stolen days off like today, we can give over to our wild side, to the things we crave.
Especially since I told her all week she wasn't allowed to get off. I told her she needed to wait until I made her come after our date today. She fussed and moaned, but we both love riling one another up. And this photo I'm looking at, it proves she's ready to play dirty.
I walk to the dressing room just as she's coming out. Her eyes widen and she looks at me, an uh-oh falling from her lips.
"You need to get back in that dressing room now," I say.
She tiptoes back where she came from, but I push through the dressing room door, grateful no one else is here. It's just her and me.
I shut the door and lock it, and then I look her up and down. Fuck, she looks cute in this dress. It's too short, that's for sure. It skims the top of her thighs and her tits pull at the fabric of the dress. It's got spaghetti straps and is patterned with sunflowers. She looks like summer in this dress, like sunshine, and I want to smile. I want to tell her how fucking cute she looks, but I won't, not yet at least.
"What's wrong?" she asks, her voice high, and she's playing a game.
"You know exactly what's wrong," I tell her. "I told you what to do, to take a photo in that thong. This is not what I asked for." I turn my phone, showing her the image.
She licks her lips. "Oh, I'm sorry," she says. "You didn't tell me I needed to take off my clothes first. I just thought you wanted..."
I shove my phone in my pocket and take her wrists in my hands, pressing her against the cold dressing room mirror. "You know exactly what you were doing. You thought it was funny to disobey me. You knew what I wanted, Rachel, and you didn't do as you were told."
She swallows. "So what are you going to do about it?" she smarts back.
I clench my jaw. "I'm going to make you pay. It's not acceptable to disrespect me by going against my wishes."
"How are you going to make me pay?" she asks, breathing hard, her tits rising and falling, my cock already hard, aching at the thought of her paying for what she did.
"I'm going to sit down on this bench," I say, pointing to the bench behind me, "and you're going to get on your knees."