How do I explain that most women would file a fucking police report after being treated like that? I ordered her to give me a blowjob, and she liked it.
“Fuck, Natalia.” Already my cock is stirring to attention again. “Did you come while you were sucking my cock?”
Her face is flushed, her green eyes shining.I grab her hand, which I see now is glistening with moisture.
Her moisture. Her… Fuck. Before I can think about what I’m doing, I’m tasting Natalia’s fingers, lapping at them like a starved man, the taste of her intoxicating.
I can’t fucking control myself. I suck her hands clean of every last drop of her release and still crave more.
What’s worse, she lets out a moan as I do it, her eyes fluttering shut, as if I needed to be reminded how touch-starved she is.
Aside from me feeding her my cock to satisfy some sick desire to bring her family to their knees — literally — I’ve barely touched her. Maybe I need to change that. If only because I need more of this addictive fucking taste.
I get the sense, as I take my sweet time licking every last drop from her right hand, that this is the most she’s every been touched.
I’m rock hard again by the time I’m done, the relief of her mouth forgotten. It opens up again inside me, this cavernous need to possess Natalia coursing through every part of my body. To lick her virgin pussy until she doesn’t know her own name.
I drop her hand just as abruptly as I took it, disgusted with myself, and back away from Natalia.
My wife. My wife who thinks I’m a monster. Who willnever look at me without seeing the death of her brothers. This marriage, a torture chamber that I’ve made for myself.
How did I not see it, when I made this plan, how quickly I would fall for this woman? How her innocence, her perfection, was everything I’d never had and everything I needed all in one?
“Don’t ever touch yourself without asking me again.”
I growl it out on instinct as I leave the room.I want her to give me every one of her gasps and sighs.
20
NATALIA
After tasting Leks, I feel incapable of thinking about anything else.
I don’t understand how people are just walking around having sex casually without it consuming their every thought.
All I want ismore. The greediest sensors in my brain pulse whenever I think about Leks, whenever I smell him, whenever something reminds me of him.
It’s been two fucking days and I haven’t seen him.
“What’s that look for?”
He walks towards the place where I’m sitting on the couch, his lip quirking into a smile.
I’m probably glaring. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since that night.
I’m angry at him. Because all I’ve been able to think about is what it was like to taste his cock, the satisfied groan he gave, the addictive taste of him. This can’t be how everyone existsall the time, unable to think about anything else except the next time they can have someone’s hands on them.
I fold my arms over my chest. I’m only wearing one of his t-shirts over my panties. It hangs so low on my thighs that it’s like a dress.
I think the fact that it smells like him is only making my predicament worse, but I can’t resist.
“You said I shouldn’t touch myself.”
He nods his silent agreement, his gaze meeting mine. His eyebrows raise as he realizes what I’m saying.
That it’s beenhardnot to.
“That’s a problem? After going without for 21 years?” His lips quirk into a teasing smile.
