So no. I will not beg for him. Or his dick.
Chapter 27
Arabella
Like a cruel king, Christopher taunts me. “I want to fuck you, wife. Don’t you want that? Don’t you want to feel my cock stretch your tight, little cunt?”
“Yes. God, yes.”
He smirks at my breathless, needy reply, and my already racing heart runs away with itself.
“But you won’t beg.”
“No.”
With a chuckle, he stands, grabbing one of my wrists and taking me up with him. “Very well.”
What?
Dizziness clouds my awareness, my feet moving in tandem with his even though my vision is too blurry for me to make out anything else but the spotlights hazing it from one of the lamps he turns on, on the chest of drawers by the bathroom door.
“Do you know what I want?”
Walking me in front of the mirrored wardrobe, he holds me still as he circles me. Nose skimming the top of my head on a deep inhale, his hand moves possessively around my back to my side and over my belly.
He fists his shirt tightly as he asks, “Do you want to know?”
From the way he’s looking down at his hand, it’s impossible for me not to know.
“Can you hear me as clearly as I hear you?”
Yes. Yes, I can. Louder than he could possibly ever know.
With my heart panging, I meet his steadfast gaze. All I can hear are his unspoken words.
I want to see you.
Like an echo to my thought, he says, “I want to see my wife.”
“Christopher…” Unable to look at him, I focus on the way the soles of his shoes sink into the carpet.
“Blood for blood, Arabella.” Whispering into my ear, he moves to stand behind me, pulling the shirt taught at the small of my back until the buttons threaten to pop. “A life for a life.”
A shiver rolls through me as he twists his fist and presses his lips to my nape. His exhale tickles my oversensitive skin while he fingers the ends of my hair with his other hand, his hard bulge pressing just below where he fists the shirt.
“My wish for your wish.” Tracing down the curve of my neck and arm, he squeezes my hand before dropping his to my hip. Smoothing down my front, he cups my pussy. “Need for need.”
His middle finger presses between my arse cheeks, curling until it nudges and teases my clenching cunt.
Shudders roll through me with fiery claws. My toes curl into the plush carpet, and all the while Christopher stands steady, breaths deep and hot, bathing my too-tight skin as he circles my dripping entrance.
“Give me what I want and I’ll consider your request.”
You’ll consider it?
That’s not good enough. It’s not a fair trade.
“There are rules.” Pulling the shirt tighter, he licks the shell of my ear. “It’s not my sole decision. You know how it works.”