“Car,” she breathed out, her eyes closed, but not straining.
She was enjoying this already.
“Keep your eyes on me,” I ordered, tapping Lyra’s clit with the barrel. Her eyelids fluttered open, fighting against the weight like she was in a daze.
“I don’t need to be here for whatever fucked-up—”
I glared over my shoulder at the bitch who couldn’t keep quiet. “You will listen and watch as I make my wife come, and you will stay silent, or I will put a bullet through your body.”
I turned back to my wife and swiped the barrel over her center, reveling in the breathy moan she let out. With my other hand, I reached for the knife sheathed in my pocket and pulled it free.
“Stay real still for me,” I directed before sliding the tip of the knife to the edge of her panties. She gasped but remained still as I pushed the thin material to the side, exposing her to me and the pathetic woman who thought she could ever measure up to Lyra.
Lyra’s legs slid further apart, welcoming the touch. “Such a beautiful pussy,” I praised. “You want to ride my knife again, sweetheart?”
She nodded in short bursts.
“Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
“Please,” she begged, her voice low.
“Please, what?” My cock hardened, but I reminded myself that this wasn’t about me and flipped the knife in my hand.
The thin column of her throat worked. “Please, make me come, Car.”
I grinned and leaned forward, brushing my lips over her neck. “The way you beg has me so fucking needy for you.” I tippedthe handle to her entrance, edging it inside her while my gun’s muzzle toyed with her clit.
“Car, please,” she moaned, bucking her hips closer. “More.”
“Whatever you want.” I nipped along her jawline, groaning into her flushed skin as I worked the handle inside her. Her gasps picked up as I worked the two in tandem, pumping the handle in as I rotated the gun, then twisting the gun back as I pulled the knife out.
In, out. In—
“Please, just let me out of here!” Sabrina cried from the floor, reminding me she was still here.
I took the blade from Lyra’s cunt, the handle glistening in the bathroom light as I turned and flung it right beside Sabrina’s head. She shrieked and her eyes widened to where the knife was now lodged into the drywall, an inch from her skull.
“Fuck,” I groaned and briefly tossed my head back. “My wife was really enjoying that.”
“You’re fucking—”
“Crazy.” I chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Got it.” I tapped two fingers to my temple, swiped them down my jaw, then tapped them on my lips in contemplation before giving up and shrugging. “Guess you’ll have to watch me get on my knees for her instead.” Truthfully, I didn’t care that Sabrina was so clearly covering her tear-soaked eyes the whole time. I’d rather keep Lyra’s body to myself than ever share it.
It was thesoundsof Lyra’s pleasure that would really get my point across.
No one fucked with my goddamn wife.
“Hold this, sweetheart.” Lyra’s stunned face as I passed her the gun only made me harder. It was a sight I wanted to see again—her, with my gun as I got on my knees…and soon. I needed to wake up to the sight every morning before my blunt and coffee.
Lyra tipped the gun to the side. “What do I do?”
“Don’t shoot me!” Sabrina yelped, cowering back more.
“Oh, shut up,” Lyra drawled as I lowered myself in front of her, placing each of her legs over my shoulders with the stupidest grin on my face. “He wasn’t gonna shoot you and neither am I.”
I squeezed her thighs. “Ly, now she’s just gonna—” The lock clicked open, and Sabrina bolted through the door. Sighing, I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Do that,” I finished.
Lyra’s face paled over. “Is she going to tell someone? The owner? Should we—”