Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 227851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1139(@200wpm)___ 911(@250wpm)___ 760(@300wpm)
“I’m not hungry.”
I pull back, one eye narrowed. “You need to eat,” I reiterate.
The corner of her lip quirks. “I said, I’m not hungry.”
Oh, I see. So this is how it’s going to be, huh? “You’ll eat.”
“I’m not hungry.” Her challenging eyes feed the energy charging through me. And my softening dick.
“If you don’t eat,” I say quietly, loading my voice with threat, “I’ll have to find a way to make you.”
“Oh?” Her eyes fall to my lips. “And how will you do that?”
Temptress. I get to my feet, turn off the shower, Ava still in my arms, and walk our soaking wet bodies to the bed, slipping out of her and throwing her down. She squeals, landing on the mattress, her wet body glistening. My dick twitches as I start slowly working it back to full hardness. She bites her lip, watching. “Will you eat?”
“No.”
“Does someone need some sense fucking into them?”
“Maybe,” she purrs around a small grin, looking me up and down.
“Then let me help you out.” I grab her ankles and spin her onto her front, slapping her wet arse. Her scream blends with the stinging sound as I blanket her body with mine and move her hair aside, forcing her head back so I can kiss her, kneeing her thighs apart and sliding into her on a satisfied groan. “Oh, baby, this weekend is going to be fun.”
She cries out, my hips fire into action, and the sound of our wet bodies slapping together fills the bedroom.
Along with Ava’s constant screams.
15
It’s Sunday. We made it another day but, to be fair, we’ve not left Lusso. We’re always safe in Lusso. I slide a plate of toast onto the island, looking up when she appears at the door. Naked. Hair a wavy, damp mess. Her bruise is nice and fresh. Her eyes are still sparkling. I’ve had her twice already this morning. Still not done.
I look her up and down as she returns the favor. “Eat,” I order, sucking some butter off the end of my finger.
She looks at the toast. “I don’t think I’m hungry.”
Oh, we’re doing this again, are we? It’s how most of yesterday was spent. Ava saying no to any trivial thing, and me enforcing a yes. I narrow my eyes, chewing my lip. Game on. I stroll over slowly, seeing her body tighten with each step I take until she’s breathless with anticipation, her head tilted back to look up at me. I lick my fingers under her watchful, needy eyes, and slip them between her thighs. Now this is what I expected marriage to be like. Sex on tap, my wife constantly desperate and not too far away from me. I raise interested eyebrows when Ava grabs my forearms on a sharp hitch of breath. “You want me again, baby?” I ask, pushing into her. Her eyes close. My dick recharges. “I think someone needs a reminder.” I drive into her a few times, then withdraw and bend her over the island. Her palms slap the marble. Her boobs squish into the cold top. I dip and kiss her back. “Ready?”
“I can’t remember.”
I smile and slam into her on a yell. “Are you going to eat, baby?”
“No.”
Oh, how she plays me. And how I enjoy playing with her . . . for the next hour.
* * *
I stare at the top shelf of the fridge, frowning. None in the cupboard, none in the fridge. How? How the hell has this happened? I roll my shoulder, wincing at the sting her fingernails have left behind. Turns out my wife needed a Retribution Fuck after her Reminder Fuck. Not because she’s been utterly unreasonable this past week. But because, according to Ava, she should be punished for refusing to eat. Insatiable. I’m here for it. So I handcuffed her to the bed and fucked her like a madman. I don’t even feel guilty that her throat must be sore. A bit like my muscles. I feel like I need a good stretch. Maybe I’ll go in the gym later.
In the meantime, where the fuck is my peanut butter? I’m not panicking. Maybe just a little. This has never happened.
If you can kick drink, you can kick this bad habit too.
I snort to myself. It’s not a bad habit. I like peanut butter, that’s all. “And so did you,” I remind him. Although crunchy rather than smooth. Yuck. I cough, disgusted, searching again in vain. “Damn it,” I mutter, turning away from the fridge. Ava’s on the other side of the island, her smile wide and amused. “What are you grinning at?” It looks like she wants to earn herself another fuck of some description. I’m not complaining.
“Why the compulsion for peanut butter?” she asks, her delight at my mild meltdown obvious.
“I like it,” I answer, feeling a bit defensive.