Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 156392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 782(@200wpm)___ 626(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 782(@200wpm)___ 626(@250wpm)___ 521(@300wpm)
Fuck.
Does she know she can get me to do anything if she begs?
Even with my grip on her hair, she manages to wrap her lips around my crown, then sucks hard.
Jesus fucking Christ.
My wife stares up at me as she slides more of my length into her hot, wet mouth and pumps me at the base, her grip tightening gradually.
The fact that she learned to please men from some random bastards turns me into an unhinged demon.
She’s wrong. The reason I didn’t want her to suck my cock isn’t only about the eye contact. It’s because I knew I’d transform into a raging fucking lunatic when her lips wrapped around my dick.
My free hand clenches and unclenches at my side and the veins in my forearm pop as I tighten my grip to stop the animalistic urge flaring in my head.
Her movements are slow and sensual and she peeks up at me the entire time, looking at me, gauging my reaction, probably.
She moans around my skin, the vibrations of her throaty voice hardening me further. And then she releases my cock and spreads my precum against her lips.
“You done?” I ask in a somber voice.
“You really hate it?” she winces.
“I don’t, but we’re doing it my way.” I grab her nape and tilt her head back using her hair. “I prefer fucking your throat, Mrs. King. Open your mouth.”
A swallow works her throat up and down and she wets her lips before she does as she’s told.
“You’re such a brat outside the bedroom, but inside, you’re good at following instructions, Mrs. King. Open wider, show me how much you want me to use your mouth.”
As I thrust into her inviting heat with my usual control, my wife opens wider, blinking up at me with those bright, trusting eyes, trying to accommodate me to the best of her ability.
Any ounce of reason I possess scatters away like the sand on the beach.
Like every time I touch her.
I say I’ll only touch her because I’ll do it my way. That I’ll use, then discard her. That I’ll extract my pleasure the same way I get everything in life. With method and command.
But then I slam into the beautiful chaos that is my wife.
She makes me lose control. Willingly or unwillingly.
No woman has ever done this to me. They were all a commodity and faceless holes willing to be used.
She’s the exception to my rules. The discrepancy in my perfectly written novel. The mutation to my biology.
It started with a sense of challenge at uni, then it morphed into a bizarre obsession every time she pissed me off—and she did that a lot. Then it suddenly became a violent possession.
A need for ownership.
The moment I identified the bug, it was already too late to extract her from my life.
Ava is the most dangerous person I’ve ever come across.
She can break me even while she’s broken herself.
She can worm herself between my armor and my skin.
Scratch that.
As she looks at me while I fuck her mouth, I realize with depressing clarity that she’s already seeped beneath my skin and she’s currently flowing through my blood.
She holds on to my thighs as she lets me thrust in and out of her mouth, using her tongue for friction. Tears shimmer in her eyes whenever I hit the back of her throat.
I pull out and she pants, her breaths echoing in the silence. “W-why did you stop? I can take it.”
“Breathe properly.”
She sucks in large gulps of air, panting.
“Again.”
She inhales a deep breath and exhales.
“One more time.”
Her chest heaves as she regulates her oxygen intake, then opens her mouth wide.
I thrust inside in one go, using her hair as a steering wheel. My rhythm is rougher this time, more unhinged as I drive in and out. My wife never stops looking up at me, and it’s that eye contact that throws me over the edge.
My orgasm is intense and long as I come deep in her throat. She swallows as much as possible, but streaks of my cum roll down the corners of her mouth.
I pull out and tug her up by the hair and then crash my lips to hers.
She gasps as I lick my cum off her mouth, then thrust it back inside. Her moans echo in the air as she climbs up my body, wraps her legs around my waist, and kisses me senseless, raking her nails down my neck and grabbing onto my hair.
My crazy wife reaches between us and strokes my hardening dick, then places it at her opening. “Fuck me.”
“Jesus Christ. Where’s your underwear, Mrs. King?”
“I must’ve forgotten to wear any.”
“You’ve been forgetting that a lot lately. I almost think it’s on purpose.”
“Maybe it is.”
“Mmm,” I growl against her lips. “Is that so?”
“Shut up and fuck me, Eli.”
My cock slips from her soaked pussy to her back hole and she writhes against me, humping, inviting me to claim my property.