Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
She tips to the side and flashes her ass at me, just in time for me to slap my palm against it. I relish the satisfying tingle in my palm.
“Ow!” she squeals, flipping back over to her back. “Hey!”
I lean onto the bed on the palm of my hand just as she flops down, effectively pinning her in. Her cheeks are flushed, and her lips are parted. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the swat to the ass turned her on.
Fucccck yes.
Oh, I’ll have fun with that.
Starting right now.
I cage her in beneath me. “You know we have rules here for wives and husbands, don’t you? Do you know what they are?”
Her eyes twinkle mischievously. “Let’s see. First, a wife must secure permission from her lord and master — um, I mean husband, Your Royal Highness — before engaging in the act of breathing, most especially too loudly. Second. Under the sacred vows of wedlock, no wife shall ever possess more opinions than her all-knowing husband. She must never outshine her husband in any way.”
“Your accuracy is astounding. It’s like you were raised in the mafia.” I lean forward and trace the little spaghetti strap on her shoulder. She shivers but pretends it doesn’t affect her.
Christ, she’s gorgeous. Her eyes are bright and warm, her skin clear and vibrant with a slight flush to her cheeks. Silky, gently tousled waves of honey brown hair softly frame her face. She’s got a girl-next-door, Italian-girlfriend appeal I fucking love.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d describe her as… joyful. Friendly, even. Approachable.
In other words, she’s my exact opposite in every way.
“Go on.”
“Third,” she continues, as if she’s just warming up. “The husband reigns supreme. The wife must conduct all business and socialization with the express written approval of her lord and master. She must never hold a contrary opinion to her husband, due to his fragile ego and precarious grip on the patriarchy. She must—she must—”
Her voice falters when I slip the spaghetti strap off her shoulder. Jesus, I can’t hold myself back anymore. I want to see her perfect breasts, the way her nipples pebble when I drag my tongue across them. I want to taste her, savor her, consume her.
“Did I tell you to stop?”
I slip the second strap off and give the top a little tug. It falls just below her nipples. A swirl of arousal licks at me.
“A wife must — must — never be contrary to her husband. She must never quest-question him in an-any way.” She falters as I bend and lick the tip of each perfect, dusky nipple. My boxers tighten against my raging erection just as the first glint of daylight appears outside the window. “A wife must o-obey like a humble servant. Should a wife exercise free will, or commit the unforgivable sin of independent thinking, she will cause her husband to be exceedingly disappointed.”
She’s a clever one. I’m curious how she’ll hold onto that vocabulary and wit when I lick her pussy.
I pull her nipple between my teeth and pinch the other. Her back arches and her lips part.
“Go on, Harper. Stop now and I’ll have to punish you. You don’t want that, do you?”
A sassy glint in her eye tells me she’s willing to give it a go.
Game on.
“An obedient wife wears wh-what her husband chooses,” she continues.
“Or nothing at all,” I correct, framing her sweet, perfect body between my hands and kissing my way down her breasts to her navel. She stifles a whimper.
“A wife should defer to her husband’s superior judgment,” she says, her eyes half-lidded now. “Since he has the benefit of patriarchal clairvoyance.”
“Always.”
I make it to the little bow and plant a kiss right. There. “Now let’s talk about what happens when a wife doesn’t obey her husband, how she’s subject to his extreme disappointment and firm correction. Aren’t you, Princess?”
She lets out a little squeal when I palm the word Bride across her ass. “But if you behave, I’ll show you a world of rewards and pleasure.”
I kiss the sweet vee between her legs and inhale the seductive scent of her arousal.
“Aleks,” she whispers, her voice a tremulous whisper.
“Shouldn’t that be My Lord?”
Her wrists are in my hand, her body teeming with need when I stand. I want her so fucking badly.
“Polina will be here soon to help you get ready, and I have zero interest in my sister seeing me in boxers with a raging hard-on. I’m told the preparations are an all-day affair.”
She nods and bites her lip. “Yes.”
“I won’t see you until we take our vows, then.” I release her wrists to lean in and kiss her cheek. “Promise me you’ll behave.”
“Mmm.”
“I’ll be watching you.”
The sun breaks through the clouds over the horizon. The glimmer of sunrise looks like hope outside the window. Holding my gaze, she smiles. “I’ll count on it.”