Page 48 of Hostile Vows
Slowly, his fingers lift from my mouth ever so slightly until they’re no longer controlling my speech.
“What am I promising you?” I murmur.
“Obedience and trust. Promise me that you won’t disappear a second time. Even when we’re done playing these games, I will always have knowledge of your whereabouts.”
His possessiveness is a whole new level of crazy. “I’ll make that promise, if you promise not to hurt me. Why am I tied up and why can’t I see what you’re doing?”
“The blindfold adds an element of suspense. You’re tied up because you want me… but you’re holding back. Your pride is in the way of my dick. When I spanked your ass earlier, it brought out a side of you that craves pain. It spoke to the suffocated part of you, the thrill-seeking dirty girl who hides in the shadows. I promise I won’t hurt you beyond what’s bearable. Your turn.”
André is the worst devil I’ve ever encountered because he has the ability to see right into my soul and shine a light on every dark corner, leaving me raw and exposed. He was my savior once before in a hellish world and now he is that hell. Despite that fact, I still find myself helplessly drawn to him.
My head moves left, then right, chasing sounds. “What happens when you're bored of this?”
“You own the Souza title, Wifey. For that reason alone, you’re untouchable. Even if it makes your heart turn black, you’ll remain in our close circle until you die. When this fizzles out, you’ll still have a duty to perform. This isn’t a temporary arrangement. It's for life. Now promise me, or I’ll force the words out of your filthy fucking mouth.”
My slow exhale signifies the surrender. “I promise.”
Somehow, the muttered oath becomes liberating. The faint line drawn in the sand meets an uncomfortable silence as it starts to dissolve. We’re no longer on opposite sides, brought together by a flimsy assurance.
“Good girl.” His fingers squeeze my cheeks as he praises me, slowly dragging them down along the curve of my neck to rest on my oily nipple.
His other hand roughly snares the opposite breast, and in a heartbeat, they’re crushed together again. I feel his hips move and his dick slide into the tight gap he’s created. With a snarl, he starts to thrust, sliding in and out as if he’s screwing me.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “I could shoot my cum all over your pretty face from here. You have perfect slippery little fuck holes, Sin. So fucking perfect. Lift your head. Chin down.”
I obey him, my neck straining, anticipating the crown of his dick on my lips. But when salty pre-cum seeps onto my tongue, I taste his virility. Whether it's because my sight was stolen, or because I’m venturing into the twisted depravity of him, wetness pools between my thighs.
“You like that—huh?” he growls.
The second I nod my head, he withdraws and climbs off me, robbing me of his body heat and challenging this obscene craving I have for him.
I’m so frustrated that I still can’t see. My hearing pricks to hyperaware. I’m exposed to him in a way I'd never allow with any man, and that both terrifies me to the core and excites me. Still, I sense his presence close by.
“Dré?” I soften my voice, my obvious uncertainty earning a dark chuckle.
A tinkle is followed by a shivery iciness gliding across my belly, all the way up to my nipples, one at a time. The sensation creates a flurry of goosebumps all over me. It’s an ice cube. It has to be. He circles the frozen object clockwise, his reward my aching nipples turning painfully erect. The addition of his mouth switches the sensation to off the charts. I bite my bottom lip and groan, arching my back into his touch. The need for him undeniable.
“My dirty little wife is so responsive. Do you want more?” His voice drips with seduction and hints at something far darker to come.
I lick my lips and swallow, aware of my pounding pulse points—especially the one thumping between my legs. I nod my head, the anticipation of his primitive whims reaching an all-time high.
He slaps my left breast, quickly followed by the right. I whimper from the sharp strike like energetic thunderbolts. “Tell me with words. I want to hear the desperation and hunger.”
“I want more,” I groan.
“More… who?”
My toes curl from his command and for what I’m about to admit. “I want more, Husband.”
“Hmm. It sounds so fucking sexy with your naughty Irish accent, Wifey. So fucking smutty that it makes my balls ache for you. I have a new fetish now. Your husky, filthy voice calling me husband. I’m going to fill that fuckable mouth of yours. But first, let’s see how you respond to this…”
20
ANDRÉ
She’s stretched out on my bedsheets, wrists bound and secured to the headboard, her eyes shielded by the baroque belt I used after shedding the bathrobe. Once I knew the guys had left, I went downstairs and gathered a few supplies to play with.
I had sat in the armchair for an hour tops, smoked a couple of Marlboros, watched her sleep, and then proceeded to jerk off to see if that would eradicate this lust spell. It didn’t. The fiery urges still blazed through me.
