Page 8 of Worship Me (Men of Inked 7)
They’d take my man card if they knew half the shit I’d put up with over the years from Izzy. But I loved the woman, and I’d do anything to keep her happy… Well, almost anything. She pushed my buttons as much as I pushed hers.
Her hand slid up my legs and came to a rest against my stiff cock. “You turned on by that?” she murmured against my lips. “By the girls?”
“I’m turned on by only one thing…” I wrapped my fingers around her chin and held her gaze. “By my wife.”
She tilted her head and gazed up at me. “Good answer.”
I moved quickly, wrapping my arms around Izzy’s waist and hoisting her over my shoulder as I stood. She grunted and wiggled against me until I swatted her ass hard enough that she yelped and finally stilled. “I think it’s time for me to remind you who owns you.”
“I’ll be good,” she said, but I knew Izzy didn’t understand the meaning of that word.
The woman would fight me if I told her the sky was blue, just because she wanted to be a thorn in my side and she loved to argue about everything.
I stalked toward the private rooms with Izzy over my shoulder and my hand over her backside, making sure no one got a peek of her beautiful ass along the way.
Even at our club back home, I never let her be naked in front of anyone. We mainly went there because I didn’t want to risk having a room set up at home and the kids wandering in there and catching a glimpse of all the contraptions. I wouldn’t even know where to begin explaining any of it to them, and I knew Izzy would be at a loss too.
Hagan stood near the hallway with a big grin. “Your room is ready. Third one on the right,” he said.
“Is it the same as it was before?”
He nodded, and I kept walking because I had a feisty woman who needed a lesson and a raging hard-on that needed a hole… I wasn’t picky either. Depending on her fight, I’d use them all if she wasn’t careful.
When I kicked the door closed, Izzy lurched her head up and gasped. “I’ll be good,” she said, squirming out of my arms. “Come on.”
When Hagan had confirmed that the room hadn’t changed, I’d almost skipped down the hallway, filled with such happiness. This was the torture room, looking every bit like a medieval dungeon, and it usually scared the hell out of the subs. I had no plans to torture my wife, but it was funny as hell to watch her backtrack her smartass comments. But there were a few things in the room that were useful.
She slid down my body until her feet touched the floor. She reached up, caressing my face with her slender fingers and blinking slowly, feigning innocence. “Make love to me,” she whispered.
Oh, she was good. But her bullshit good-girl act wasn’t enough to get me off track.
“Doll,” I said, rubbing her shoulders and backing her up toward the punishment bench. “I’m going to show you just how much I love you.”
“Yeah?” she asked with a smile, but it quickly faded when she glanced over her shoulder and saw exactly what I was moving her toward. “You want me on that?”
“What did you make me promise?”
She licked her lips, and her eyes flashed with hunger. “You said you’d fuck me until I begged you to stop.”
I nodded and smiled as my cock hardened even more. “Now get undressed, climb up there, and assume the position.”
If I could pick one piece of equipment to put in our house, it would be a punishment bench. It sounded so much more sinister than it really was, at least in my hands. It was a metal, bench-like structure that had an adjustable horizontal bar for the sub’s stomach to comfortably rest upon as their ass was up and head down. It left every hole open and easily accessible for their partner to do with as he wished. It was perfect, and the cuffs for the wrists and ankles made the entire package complete.
“You promise you’re going to be nice?” She quirked an eyebrow at me, knowing she’d been naughty.
“Cross my heart.”
“You putting that—” Her eyes dipped down as I started to undress and my cock sprang free from my pants “—in my ass?”
“Don’t test my patience,” I warned her with a stern look.
“This place better have a lot of lube,” she muttered as she climbed out of her skirt and panties before tossing them onto the bench near the doorway.
She hadn’t stopped squabbling since I brought her in here, and she knew that it just meant more time. I swear she did it on purpose to get a rise out of me. Sometimes she’d tell me that she liked normal, everyday lovemaking, but I knew she was lying. Izzy couldn’t verbally admit she liked to be dominated because it would’ve made her appear weak, but the wetness between her legs told me the truth.
I closed the space between us and stuck my hand between her legs. “You’re wet, doll.” She squeezed her eyes shut, shivering against my hand. “You want this more than you’re willing to admit. Save your breath. Get up there, and show me that pussy.”
When I finished speaking, her eyes opened, but they were different. The fight was gone, replaced by lust and need. I knew my wife better than I knew anyone in the world, and she was a horny beast.
I watched with my arms crossed and my cock jumping with anticipation as she slowly finished undressing before climbing onto the bench. When she finally found a comfortable spot for her forearms and legs on the padded spots, she stilled.
I should’ve strapped her in right away, but I couldn’t resist touching her before I did. I moved behind her, taking in the sight of her beautiful pussy and tight little ass spread out before me. Placing my hands on her cheeks, I kneaded them softly.
“You want my cock?” I asked, letting my thumbs almost touch her pussy.
“Yes,” she said, breathy and wanton.
“You want me to fuck this beautiful cunt?”
Her
bottom moved as if she were chasing my fingers and wanting more than I offered. “Yes, Sir.”
I slid my hands between her legs, running my fingertips over her clit before dragging them back through her wetness and pressing two into her warmth. Her hands wrapped around the armrests, and her head fell forward with a sigh.
“You love when I fuck your greedy pussy, don’t you?”
She nodded, not able to form words as I stroked her G-spot. I raised my hand, letting it come down hard on her round ass, with the fingers of my other hand still buried deep inside her.
“Speak,” I reminded her. “I need your words, doll.”
“Fucker,” she muttered, but her pussy clenched against me, and I knew I had her, that she wanted this just as much as I did.
“Your disobedience calls for the restraints and a blindfold.”
God. Fucking with Izzy’s head was such a high. I think it was mostly because of her smart mouth that it turned me on so much. Stunning her to silence was such a victory and an achievement so major that I should get a medal because it was damn near impossible sometimes.
“You wouldn’t,” she dared me, turning her head so she could see my face.
“I will, and if you’re not good, I’ll get the ball gag too.” Her eyes widened as she gritted her teeth to swallow down the words she so badly wanted to say.
She bowed her head, relaxing against the stomach bar, and waited for me to strap her down. I worked quickly, excitement coursing through my veins with every click of the lock.
Tonight, I was going to use my wife as my own personal fuck toy and enjoy every goddamn second of it.
Izzy
I could barely move when I finally opened my eyes. I lay there, groaning through the pain as I untangled myself from James’s body and collapsed onto my back.
I didn’t even know what time we finally made it back to his parents’ house because I passed out in the car. My legs barely functioned after being strapped to that fucking bench for hours while James forced me to orgasm.
Forced was the wrong word.
I wanted them…every single fucking one of them too. But, whoa. It had been years since James fucked me like that. He used me, and I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.
I thought once the kids were older that it would be easier to get our kink on, but it seemed the problems had grown with them, along with the time span between our “workouts.”
At least, that’s what we told the boys we were doing when we left the house dressed in our tracksuits to hide our real clothes underneath and a duffel bag filled with so many sex toys I couldn’t even carry the damn thing.
“Izzy,” James’s mother said, tapping lightly on the door. “Are you awake?”
James stretched, hogging the bed and nearly knocking me off the edge with his long, thick limbs. “Yeah, Mama.”
“Can I come in?” she asked.
“One second,” I yelled out, yanking the sheets and comforter over our naked bodies and his delicious morning wood.
James glanced at me with a soft, sweet smile. “Morning, sweetheart.”
“Hey, tiger.” I winked, feeling playful and achy.
Although I hated the drive and leaving my tiny bubble, the weekend had turned out amazing so far with the food, family, and fucking. They were the three most important Fs in life and the very things I couldn’t live without.
The door creaked open, and his mother padded into the room so quietly I wouldn’t have heard her if she hadn’t knocked. She was so damn cute like my ma, only a little rounder and loved wearing muumuus, which I’d never believed people actually wore in real life until I met her. Her brown hair with gray highlights was pulled back in a bunch and held in place with a yellow pencil.
“Are you hungry?” she asked and looked toward the wall and not directly at us.
“We’re covered.” James laughed and stretched again at my side.
She glanced our way with a small smile. “I figured you two were hungry, so I made a big lunch. I didn’t want everything to get cold.”
