Page 41 of Beautiful Broken Vengeance

“How are you feeling?”

Confusion clouds her eyes. “Okay.”

“I simply wanted to confirm you weren’t feeling any ill effects from your peanut allergy, the shrimp was cooked in peanut oil.”

All the color drains from her beautiful face.

“You aren’t allergic to peanut butter?” It’s a question I know the answer to. I wanted it confirmed because it’s a dangerous allergy.

She shakes her head.

“It’s because of him, correct?”

A nod. Swallowing hard, her eyes close. “He wasn’t a very good cook. The one thing constantly in the house was peanut butter. My breakfast and any snack, especially my snack before bedtime was a peanut butter sandwich. The snack at bedtime was where he slipped something in. I’m not sure what, but it always made me sleepy, the same as some of the afternoon snacks. I can’t stand the smell of it.”

I rub my cheek against hers. “There will be no peanut butter in any home we have,” I promise her. “Would you like some dessert? I had our housekeeper get the pumpkin cheesecake you love.”

“I’m too full, Daddy.”

My cock jumps to be inside her at the same time my chest twists painfully. Pink washes over her all the way to her ears. “Say it again.”

She shakes her head, then jumps at the feel of my cock pushing into her as she shifts on my lap so that her back is against my chest. Her gasp is loud, she tries to move off me, I grasp her hips and catch her before she can get away. “I’m not done with you, dear wife,” I murmur low in her ear. “If you keep moving around, my cock is going to make demands you are not ready to meet.”

Instantly, she goes still. “Good girl. Thank you,zaika. You can be a good girl when you want to be. Be my good girl and your reward will be all the pleasure your body can handle.”

CHAPTER16

Phoenix

Oh god, the way he saysgood girlsends scalding wet to the silk covering methere. Shame turns me red to the tips of my ears when he inhales deep. The air hitting my neck, sending my head back to his chest, leaves him in a shaky rush.

“What a responsive little slut you are.” The words are spoken into my skin like a brand. Everything in me screams it’s wrong, so very wrong to squirm in agony at how wet the words make me, how I want him to say it again. He chuckles, the sound skimming over my skin pulls a moan from me. Gentle hands grip my hips tight. “I love it, my new wife is a virgin yet a slut. A gorgeous,dirty, little slut.”

I grip my thighs tight, refusing to look up from Aleksander’s plate without seeing a single thing. A finger trails over the skin of the back of my hand, the touch is so light yet leaves a trail of fire in its wake. It’s his left hand, the one with his own wedding ring on it. I can’t take my eyes off it, elegant, yet bold there is no missing it. He’s wearing a ring too, to show everyone he is married…to me.

“And that,zhena, is why I printed this out.” His hand slips into his inner suit breast pocket and comes out with a thick wad of folded papers.

“Normally, you do this online. However, I’m well aware if I give you an inch you will take it and run a mile. Therefore you will answer an abbreviated questionnaire. This will give us both an idea of what interests you. Look at this one.”

I follow a thick, yet elegant finger to the top of the page. There are boxes of whatever the kink or whatever it is headed, then in boxes there is a list of things that might appeal to whatever the kink is called. The header says Daddy/Mommy and Boy/Girls who are referred to as Littles.

“Read the description,zhena. As you can see, this is so common a desire it is not only named, there is a varying degree for women and men who want to be treated as a child, to simply calling their partner daddy.”

The list is long, below it is age players—gross. My stomach drops remembering waking up in the adult diaper. I thought it was icky but understandable if I was out cold. It was either that or a catheter, and I’ve heard they are painful. “I’m not going to wear diapers. That’s disgusting.”

“Then you won’t. Another thing you won’t do is kink shame. What one person finds appealing another may not, and that’s okay. Do not look down on others because they sin differently than you,malyshka.” His tone is dry.

I blush, relieved. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t call what someone likes disgusting when I…”

Catching my chin, he tilts me back to meet his eyes. The heat hits me as if I were sitting by a roaring fire—from the inside out. “And you were proud of yourself for not wanting something that you judged worse than what you do want. It’s understandable, but putting someone else down to make yourself feel better is not something you should do. This is all new to you. We’ll go slow. Nothing is bad or wrong, not a thought or desire, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone. Causing someone to feel bad for what they like does hurt them. Do you understand?”

Lungs desperate for air, I nod. I glance at the paper again. I’ve heard of the BDSM thing but thought it was getting spanked with a riding crop or something. “I’ve never heard of half of this before. Which in and of itself sounds odd. The crap I have seen on some people’s computer has made me want to bleach my eyeballs. How did I miss all of this?”

“Since you’ve been hiding from your sexuality and sex itself, it makes perfect sense. As I said, this is simply for you to comprehend that as sad as it is to say, what you went through is not unique. Sold, yes. But touched in the dark by someone who told you they loved you is not. Too many women and men have endured what you went through. They were groomed to have desires that made it easier for those grooming them to use them. There are just as many women who grew up in a boring but safe home without being sexually assaulted who desire what you do. Maybe because it was boring and they didn’t feel loved by their father. Then there are women who had amazing fathers, and they want to be loved and cared for as their father cared for them in a sexual and forever way. The reasons are many and varied and none of them matter.”

He sounds so…calm, like it’s all normal, no big deal. How could that be when I hated myself so much for the gross thoughts I had that I considered suicide to end the shame?

“I changed the options to limit it to yes, no, and maybe. One thing, nothing is set in stone. If reading it intrigues you but in the moment you want to stop, then it stops. If something doesn’t sound good but later you want to try, then we can try. And just because we do something once doesn’t mean we have to do it again. We’re going to go with a basic safe word system of red which means stop and it all stops. Yellow means don’t stop but go slow in case you want to stop. Green means you’re good.”

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