“So far today, I’ve let you undress me, bathe me, and fuck me seven ways since Sunday. Clearly, something is wrong with me,” she says sullenly.
“It’s my job to help you, care for you, and satisfy you. I plan to do all those things every day for the rest of our lives,” I tell her honestly.
She doesn’t speak, but I hear the surprised squeak she tries to muffle with her hands and the comforter beneath her. That’s okay. I don’t need her to tell me she wants all those things from me. She’s my mate, my perfect other half, and our futures are bound now by whatever fate, magic, or voodoo brought us together.
The room falls silent, and the sounds of our quiet breaths blend with the peace I feel being connected with her this way. I’m aware of the kink cockwarming, and while I don’t believe it’s something I’d want to do regularly, there is something primal about keeping her full of me while her body uses my sperm to create a new life.
Perhaps this is something we can do just while we’re breeding, then while she’s pregnant, we can both enjoy watching as my semen drips from her vagina.
When she starts to squirm again, I sigh, then pull back, watching as my penis slips from her body, hitting my thigh witha wet-sounding thwack. Keeping my hands on her hips, I slowly lower her body to the bed, then lie down beside her, draping my arm across her hip as I nuzzle my nose into her neck.
“We can’t keep doing this,” she says on a sad exhale.
“I plan to do this every day for the rest of forever. This is what our future looks like, Doll.”
“I don’t know anything about you other than how big your dick is.”
“What would you like to know?” I ask, more than willing to answer any questions she has.
“Are your parents still alive?”
“Yes.”
She waits, like she expects me to say more, but what else is there to say?
“Do you have any siblings?”
“I have a younger brother and a younger sister.”
“Are you close?” she asks, with a hint of wistfulness in her tone.
“No.”
“Are you close with your parents?”
“No,” I say again.
“Why not?”
This is harder to answer, but I try. “I’m not like my parents or siblings.”
Rolling to face me, she pushes her messy hair behind her ear, then slips her hands beneath her cheek that’s resting on the comforter. “What do you mean?”
“My parents live in the same town their parents lived in. My siblings live there too. I’m peculiar, and they’re not.”
“Peculiar,” she says, slowly rolling the word over her tongue like she’s trying to understand.
“I don’t enjoy people in the same way others do. I’m…particular.”
“You seem to be enjoying me,” she says, her eyes immediately going wide, like she can’t believe she just said that.
“You’re my wife. It’s different with you,” I admit.
“We’re not actually married, Knight,” she says slowly.
“The legalities are easily resolved,” I tell her matter-of-factly.
“You can’t just declare that I’m your wife and expect me to just accept it.”
