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“Say something!” I cried.
“Come on my cock.”
Like magic, I exploded into an orgasm, pulsing around him as he’d told
me to, bending backward until he slipped out of me.
When I opened my eyes, he was on all fours over me.
“Thank you,” I said. “For letting me be in charge.”
“You’re good at it.” His erection pressed against my thigh.
“You didn’t come,” I said, putting my hands on his face.
He took them away and put my wrists over my head as I’d done to him.
“I’m saving it.”
“For what?”
“I want to make a suggestion first.” He rolled away.
“What?”
“I want to renegotiate the contract.”
My lungs squeezed all the blood out of my heart. “Okay.”
“Let’s say this.” He traced the line of my breast, over the last line of
inked butterflies. “Let’s say we don’t have to get divorced.”
“What?”
“I’m not saying we won’t. But we treat this like a normal relationship.
Just… married.”
No. Everything in me said no. I’d clung to the security of knowing I’d
be hurt and that I had control over how much and when. His change meant
the sky was the limit.
“I don’t know.” I got off the bed.
“Why not?”
“Nothing’s really changed. I’m not a good wife for you. And you…”
I couldn’t finish with him reclined on my bed like a god, with his
hammer of a cock waiting. I couldn’t kid myself into thinking it was just his
beauty or our sex. He was loyal and stable and sincere even when he was
lying.
“Me, what?”
“I was going to say you’re not my type. But…” I stopped myself again
before I said a stupid thing. “I have to go to the bathroom.”
Not waiting for him to answer, I did my business, sore from the
violence of the first fuck and the pace of the second. He’d made me raw and
I loved it. The way he’d given me control but taken it back exactly when I
needed him to.