Her bottom lip dropped away from her top one. “I … guess my back.”
“Yes ma'am,” I replied.
She turned and I began painting her back with the creamy soap. My pretty little innocent wife trembled under my hands. This was exactly how I wanted her.
I rubbed the soap into her skin, pressing my thumbs into her back for an added massaging effect. My hands wandered down to her lower back. I swooped my hand gently over the curve of her ass cheek. The skin there was soft and smooth. The suds slid over her shoulder-blades to her tailbone.
Without seeking her permission, I set my hands on her hips and guided her back against me. If she protested, I would have let her go (even if it did irritate me). I was convinced there was no chance of that, and of course, I was right.
Now was the time to put on a show, to entice her into giving me exactly what I wanted. To sweeten the pot, I'd have to show I wanted her. That was easy enough. All I had to do was think of Chastity. Before I knew it, I was in a fully aroused state.
I leaned in close to her ear. “There's something about you when you're all wet.” Her breathing deepened and quickened. “I didn't know it would make me so hot.”
Playing the unsure, cautious husband, I ran my wet hands over the front of her thighs. As I did, I pressed my lips softly on her neck.
A low moan dragged from her chest as she arched back against me. She set her small hands on mine.
“Is there anywhere else you want me to clean you up?” I whispered.
She couldn't even answer. She was too busy shaking in my arms to think straight.
I eased my hand between her legs. “What about here?” My fingers connected with the curls at the apex of her thighs. She buckled and moaned loud even though I'd barely touched her.
“Emily?”
“Wh—what?” she stuttered.
“You'll have to stop me. I don't think I can leave this shower without fucking you.”
Her clit began to pulse under my fingers.
“I want—I want it,” she said as her knees quaked.
“I don't think it's time yet,” I argued. “But you've got to stop me.” I made it sound like I was begging for her to help me quit … as if I was losing control with her—as if that was even possible.
“I can't,” she whined. “I can't think.”
“I'd better go,” I said with resignation, pulling my hand away. “This doesn't feel right.”
“Please don't!” she yelped, grabbing my wrist. “Please don't leave me like this. I can't take it anymore! I want you.”
I spun her in my arms and looked into her eyes. Water ran rivers along her collarbones, sheeted the expanse of her chest, dripped from her tightened nipples. “I want you, too. I want the slave I once had. I want the obedient girl who would do anything to please me.” I took her chin in my fingers. “I promise never to force myself on you again. I want you to please me because you want to, not because I have to wrestle you into it.”
“I do want to. I want to, Jack!” she pleaded. “That's all I've ever wanted.”
I took the wet length of her hair in my fingers and tugged her head back ever-so-gently, then I guided her down until she dropped to her knees.
“Say it again.”
The water fell on her cheeks. She looked so helpless, so intoxicated, looking up at me from the shower floor with her pleading eyes.
“I want to be your slave. I'll do anything you ask. I promise I'll please you, no matter what you ask me to do,” she said.
“Lie down,” I commanded.
She did so without a moment's hesitance.
I lowered down until I was on my knees between her legs. Under a thick blanket of steam she looked both terrified and desperate for me. This is what I wanted—desperation, abject desire, perfect obedience.
I bent my head low and took a nipple in my teeth. She squirmed underneath me as I bit down and kneaded her other tit in my right hand. My left hand reached down and began preparing her for the final act that would reclaim her as mine.
Sliding a finger in almost drove the poor woman crazy. She was tight. If I hadn't been wiser, I'd have suspected she was a virgin. But I was wiser. I'd been the one to take her to heights she'd never experienced, and I was damn sure going to do it this time.
I lifted my head and looked at her face, slack with sexual bliss. “Look at me,” I growled.
Her lashes fluttered closed. “Look at me, Emily Duncan.” She tossed her head and made eye contact. “Don't you stop looking at me while I fuck you.” She was beyond ready for me. It'd taken a mere touch to get her slick.
I invaded that long-untouched channel that was under my control and began to stroke. Her eyes glazed over, but she never looked away.
“Oh fuck,” she cursed under her breath.
Without the mercy of being gentle, I gripped her shoulder and held her down as I moved. The floor was unyielding against the force of my thrusts. She absorbed every bit of shock with her body. I made each solitary inch fit inside of her. I'd use it all to make her scream, make her crave more. I had to touch every bit of her I could, inside and out. That was the only way …
She held on for dear life as the hot water pelted both our bodies. “Don't you look away,” I ordered. “I want you to watch me take you back. You're all mine, Emily. All mine.”
Tears collected in her eyes. There was no mistaking it now. Those words had sent her over the edge. The sentiment in her face was supported by her pussy's swift squeeze around my cock. Her mouth was wide open, like she couldn't believe it was happening, as if she'd been transported out of her regular existence.
I didn't stop. There was no way I would. She wouldn't get away that easily. No, I was going to make her come until she lost her senses.
There were delicious wet sounds coming from between our legs and I reared back to get a good look at my destroyed slave, the woman I was reclaiming, the woman I would trade to fuck someone else.
I lifted her legs over my shoulders and bore down on her. Her torso curled under half my weight and I supported the rest of it with my hands braced on the floor.
Pressing straight down into her was an old feeling that I'd almost forgotten. She ate it up, bucking even though she was pinned down. Her second orgasm came as soon as I'd changed position. Her entire body was flushed.
“Is this what you wanted?” I fucked her faster. “Hm?”
“Yes! Yes sir!” Tears streamed pitifully from her eyes. “Please, don't stop, Master!”
“I demand more orgasms from you, do you hear me? I want to feel that pussy clench again,” I growled. “Don't make me ask twice.”
She was screaming now with every thrust, her hands grappling the floor, though there was nothing to hold onto.
By the time I pulled out of her, she'd had several more orgasms. I was near to the point of exhaustion. I hadn't fucked so hard for so long in a while. The results were satisfying. She was wrecked, out of breath and hoarse. Without me to hold her lower half up, her body lay on the shower floor. Her wet hair had matted on her forehead and she stared straight up, bereft of words.
I stood up on my wobbly knees and sat down on the stone bench.
“I think we should get out,” I suggested.
“No. I want to make you come first,” she protested, bringing herself up onto her trembling arms.
It was strange. I hadn't even come close, myself. I think it was because I'd considered this a job—all a part of the plan.
Then it occurred to me …
I can't remember what it's like to get off without touching her. I'm looking at my wife; I'm fucking my wife; but it's all for her. Chastity. That body, that face, that moan … they're everything.
They say a person's gut reaction to fear is often laughter. People laugh in order to keep themselves from feeling uncomfortable, or even to avoid emotion altogether. That might be why thinking of Chastity being my sole source of sexual pleasure made me laugh. I didn't want to face how dangerous it was. I didn't have time
to rationalize the consequences of laughing in my particular predicament.
My wife, my poor, clueless wife was laying in the floor of our shower. I'd just fucked her stupid. And she'd just asked if she could try make me come.
I had to face the reality. My wife would never be able to make me come again.
I was too addicted to another woman … to Chastity.
And there was no turning back.
“What are you laughing at?” Emily asked. She sounded as if she'd been wounded, and rightly so.
“I'm sorry, honey. I'm just laughing at the fact that I'm exhausted. I'm so out of practice!” I rubbed the back of my head, trying to seem like I was embarrassed. “I don't think I can finish.”
Her expression changed and she giggled. “I love you.”
I leaned my fevered face against the cold wall. “I love you, too.” Her trusting expression was adorable. She had no idea what my plans were.
She didn't know that she'd stepped right back on the chess board as a pawn; and I was the king who would use her to get to the queen.
We went to bed naked that night. I had no intention of having sex again, but I was too lazy to put clothes on. I'd dominated her a little bit in the shower and cuddling and talking were all a part of the “aftercare” aspect I'd learned about. I figured I might as well let her cling to me for a while before she fell asleep.
I lay staring at the ceiling, hoping the pain in my aching balls would ease. I wanted Chastity. It'd only been a few days but every day it got worse. I had to make my move soon. I had to complete the illusion for Emily so she would trust me unreservedly.
Emily rolled over and cuddled up to me as she had for the past few nights. She moaned contentedly and strung her arm over my ribcage.
“Still awake?” I asked.
“I'm almost asleep,” she answered.
“Are you okay with what happened earlier?” I asked … as if I cared.
“I loved it,” she said with a sigh.
“I want you to do something for me, Emily.”
“What?”
“It's important to me that you know that even though I'm your Master, I've learned that I need to respect your boundaries.” I almost choked on the ridiculous stupidity of that statement. It sounded scripted. Still, she bit.
“Thank you, honey,” she said, squeezing me tight.
“I want you to pick a safe word.”
“A what?”
“It's a word you can say during sex for when things become too much for you. You can say that word and we can stop.”
“What should I pick?”
“It can be anything, a short word, maybe something like 'pie'.”
She laughed. “Pie?!”
I chuckled. “It doesn't have to be pie. Pick something that's easy for us both to remember and is easy to say. It shouldn't be a sexual word, so that it doesn't get mixed up with our … bedroom talk.”
She considered for a moment. “Remember the first time we had sex on our honeymoon, at that hotel in Tahiti?”
“Hm. I think so.” I didn't remember at all, but I wasn't about to tell her that.
“Remember when you didn't have any cuffs or tape or anything to tie my wrists?”
Now I remembered. “Oh yeah. We used the ties from the four-poster bed's curtains.”
“They were made of silk. I think that should be it.”
“What, 'silk'?”
“Mm hm.” She gave me another squeeze.
“Whatever you want, honey.” I kissed the top of her head, and rested my cheek there. “Whatever you want.”
Traded for Love
(Emily)
The phone rang just as I put Katherine down for her nap. I rushed out before I could cover the baby. I answered without checking the caller ID.
“Hi!” Kim exclaimed.
“Hey! How's it going?”
“The renovations are going pretty fast. At this rate, the new wing will be done in the next few weeks. How are things in your neck of the woods?”
If only you knew, I wanted to tell her. “Fine.”
“Is that husband of yours still distant?”
I remembered everything that had transpired in the shower two days before. “He's just busy. But he hasn't been as involved with the work or the campaign lately. He's been coming home early and spending more time with me.”
“Good. I'm glad to hear that.” She chuckled. “You just let me know the minute he steps out of line.”
I laughed nervously. “I'll do that.” I blushed at the idea of Kim finding out the details of our relationship. She had an inkling of what Jack was into—thanks to some of what I'd revealed to her in the beginning, but she couldn't have known how far things had gotten.
“So, one of my vets is doing a show with at a neighborhood theater. Dante and I are going and I was wondering if you guys would be interested in a double-date?”
It was Dante's day off, so Jack had driven himself into work. I checked my phone's clock. “I'm interested, but I'll have to call Jack and ask when he'll be home.”
“Okay. Text me when you find out.”
“Will do.”
“Love you,” Kim sang.
I grinned. “Love you, too.”
I pitched the date to Jack.
Sounds good. I'll be home around four. Be ready to go.
(Jack - Later That Day)
Tonight was the night.
I had no idea how I would approach the subject, but I was going to at least begin the process of convincing Emily to go with me to the club.
The date would be a nice way to butter her up. All I need was a stolen moment of privacy to plant the seed in her head. There was even a chance I could make it seem like it was her idea.
I pulled up to the front of the house and honked the 9-11's horn.
Just as I was about to pick up my phone, she exited the house.
She looked exceptionally pretty. She was decked in pink from head to toe. Her lips were a nice rosy color and her pink sundress was sweet. She'd finished the outfit off with neon-pink heels.
“You look gorgeous, honey,” I remarked as she slid into the passenger seat.
She smiled. “Thanks.”
I set my hand on her thigh and gave it a squeeze. “I love it when you dress up.”
Her cheeks flushed in response. She'd gone back to her old self in a lot of ways. Maybe denying her had eventually become the key to truly owning her. If things went right, I'd be with Chastity sooner rather than later.
As we drove, we made small talk. We both had such different lives. Mine was all campaigning and business. Hers was, for a small part of her day, the activities surrounding being a mother. For the rest of it she waited for me. I didn't know how she stayed sane. For all I knew, she wasn't anymore.
We arrived at the small community center auditorium. The house was packed. Kim was her normal cheery self. She'd never been happy to see me. I'd never really been able to charm her.
I didn't particularly care. Emily was the one I needed to influence, and she'd always been prone to it. If her devotion to me after I'd cheated and more or less thrown her away wasn't enough proof of that, I didn't know what was.
We seated ourselves in the middle-back. It was a production of Antony and Cleopatra. I'd never seen the show, and had never had interest in seeing it. This whole date was really just an excuse to bring up the subject.
The show progressed and I couldn't help but identify with Antony. The poor guy was constantly torn between the love he had for Cleopatra and his duty to his country and its citizens. While I knew what I felt for Chastity wasn't love, it was surely an obsession. It was so strong, that it'd cost me voter confidence.
I'll be smarter than Antony, I thought. I won't lose myself in my lust. I'll come back from this and regain my footing in the campaign. I'll get everything and I want and more.
I turned to Emily as the crowd stirred. “How about we get some air?”
“Sure.” She was radiant. In the aftermath
of the souring of our marriage, I'd almost forgotten how pretty she was. I hoped it kept. I was going to need her in my upcoming public appearances.
We hooked arms and walked outside.
The breeze tousled her hair as we walked into a small grove of trees.
I stopped at a spot where the moonlight shone through the boughs and onto her face.
“You look so amazing tonight,” I cooed.
She blushed. “You look great, too.”
I chuckled. “You've always been so sweet.” I tipped her chin up and brushed her lips with mine. “How have you felt in the past few days—about us?”
“It feels a little like it did in the beginning.” She wrapped her arms around me.
“Oh yeah? How's that?” I asked, pulling her close.
“Even though we're going through a rough time, I think I feel more than ever that you know what's best for me.” She laid her head on her shoulder.
I couldn't keep from smirking. “I told you, didn't I? From the very beginning, I told you I could make you happy.”
“I am. Things are best this way. You and I and Katherine can be together.” She squeezed me.
That was strange.
“Why'd you mention Katherine?” I asked.
“Is it so strange that I want us to be together?” She brought her eyes up to mine.
“You're afraid we won't stay together? So, that's why you've been so obedient lately. And here I was stupid enough to believe your heart was in it.” I slid her arms away and stepped back.
“No.” There was a hint of panic in her voice. She closed the gap between us. “Please, Jack. I promise I'm doing it because I want to.”
I took her in my arms again, smoothing my thumb over her flushed cheek. “I told you a long time ago that I demand obedience.”
“Yes. I know.” A tear formed on her lid.
“If you want to prove your obedience, there's something I want you to do.” I swept the tear away from her cheek.
“What is it?”
“I heard about a club where people trade partners. I thought it might be fun to see what it's like. I want you to go with me.”
Traded for Love Page 20
