Dirty Husband Read online Crystal Kaswell

Categories Genre: Billionaire, Romance Tags Authors: Crystal Kaswell Advertisement1

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Fuck, that already feels too good.

She sits up straight. Raises her chest, pointing it toward me in a gesture that's half pride, half look at my perfect tits.

I want to touch them, taste them, feel them around my cock, paint them with my cum.

I want everything with her.

After she obeys.

It's what she wants too. She wants to earn it.

I offer her my hand again. When she places her fingers in my palm, I repeat my request. "Say it, princess. Say, please fuck my mouth, sir."

She looks up at me. "May I please touch you, sir?"

A compromise. Maybe I should say yes. But I can't. I need her obedience tonight. "Say it."

Her eyes get brighter, more full of fire. She takes a deep breath. Exhales slowly. "Please fuck my mouth. Sir."

Fuck. I'm already too far gone. I'm not going to last long. But that's for the best. I don't want to push her too hard. Not the first time. "Open your mouth, princess."

She hesitates. "What if it's too much? Too hard?"

It's a good point. She won't exactly be able to use the safe word. "My watch."

Her eyes flit to the device.

"Tug on it."

She nods with understanding.

I shift back into the scene. Stiffer posture, lower voice, eyes fixed on her. "Open your mouth, princess."

She does.

"Wider."

She opens wider.

"Lips around your teeth. Keep your tongue on the bottom of your mouth. Keep it pressed against me. So I can fuck the back of your throat."

"Fuck," she breathes.

I bring one hand to the back of her head. I'm going to mess up her fancy hairdo. I'm going to make it clear she's been fucked properly. "Hands behind your back. Or on my hips."

I don't give her time to respond. I unzip my slacks. Push my boxers aside.

Pull her head to my cock.

Fuck. Her lips brush my tip. Then it's her soft, warm mouth.

I don't give her respite. I push deep into her mouth.

She groans against my cock. Her hands go to her thighs. Then to my hips.

I'll bind her wrist next time.

For now—

Fuck. I pull back and drive into her again.

My eyes fall closed. For a moment, I soak in the feeling of her sweet mouth. I give her a few seconds to get used to my length.

Then I pull back and thrust into her again.

She looks up at me with fire in her eyes.

Her nipples tighten. Her thighs shake. Her nails scrape her palms.

She's wet. She wants this as much as I do. She wants to be mine.

I can push her harder. Further. Closer to what she craves.

I tighten my grip on her hair. Toss aside a pin. Then another.

Her dark strands fall over her cheeks. I knot my hand in them. Tug her enough she groans.

Then I pull her head over my cock. Just barely. Just enough she feels it.

Then more.

More.

Fuck.

I hold her head in place with both hands. One to steady her. The other to tug her hair enough she moans.

I drive into her again and again. Hard, fast movements that stretch her lips.

She keeps her tongue pressed flat against me as I fill her with steady thrusts.

Her groans get louder. The vibration makes me shake. Fuck, she's already too good at this. And knowing she's mine. That she's obeying me.

A few more thrusts and I come. I drive into her, spilling into her pretty mouth, until I have nothing left to give.

Then I pull back. Watch her swallow hard.

"Good girl," I say.

Her pupils dilate. She likes the term. A lot. I'm going to have fun with her.

Too much even.

The rest of this might be a mess. I might not know who the twenty-four-year-old Jasmine Lee is.

I may not know her head or her heart.

But I know her body.

I know how to give her exactly what she craves.

Chapter Twenty

Jasmine

It's official. I'm an insane person.

No one in their right mind would do this. No one in their right mind would kneel on a balcony and beg their ex-boyfriend to fuck their mouth.

Only I did. And I'm standing here, in the shower, replaying it again and again.

Shep is in his room. We have separate rooms. He fucked my mouth, said a few things about our terms and tomorrow, a few things I didn't hear, then he sent me to my room. Went to his. To work or shower or fuck himself. I don't know.

I should care. Part of me does. Part of me is screaming what the hell is wrong with me?

The other part?

I slip my hand between my legs. The running water makes the friction strange. Too smooth.

It's not the same touching myself without him here. I want him here.

I want him watching. I want him ordering me onto my knees, or my back, or my stomach.

But he isn't here. I'm alone, in the shower, because he sent me away after he finished with me.


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