“That’s sweet,” Mom said. “You’ll find someone special if you look hard enough.”
“She’s definitely not the wife type,” Jackson said with a laugh. “She’s more of a pit stop on the race track.”
“Christopher.” Rome’s cold voice cut through the conversation. “I don’t want you anywhere near her. I don’t tell you what to do or who to see. But she’s off-limits. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea.”
That was the worst possible thing Rome could say.
“Now she’s forbidden…” He waggled his eyebrows.
“I’m being serious, Christopher,” she hissed. “She’s not good enough for you—even if it’s just for the night.”
“Aww.” He patted her on the shoulder. “My little sister is protective. Pointless, but cute.”
Rome returned her attention to her dinner, finally dropping the conversation.
We were having a great night, so I decided to change the subject to chase away the tension. “Rome and I are taking a trip to Martha’s Vineyard for our anniversary. We’re gonna have some wine and relax by the pool.”
“Geez, that sounds boring,” Jackson said. “I’d rather go to Vegas or something.”
“For an anniversary?” Christopher asked. “I’m not romantic, but even I know that’s not a good choice.”
“It’s not boring when you’re in love.” I looked across the table and made eye contact with Rome. She was still angry, her lips pressed tightly together in irritation. She tried to avoid my look because she wanted to stay angry. When she was in a bad mood, she did her best to stay that way.
But under my ruthless stare, she didn’t last long. Her heart called the shots, and her eyes obeyed. She looked at me across the table, those pretty emeralds weak against mine. Her lips slowly softened because she easily fell victim to my powerful look.
For our anniversary, we would dine on wine and cheese and make love in the cottage I rented on the vineyard. It would be a great way to celebrate a year of marriage, the best year of my life. Everyone was busy talking about Vegas, so I mouthed to her across the table, “I love you.”
That was the final nail in the coffin. Now she was completely vulnerable to me, a meal on a platter. She pressed her lips together firmly as she repressed the smile that wanted to stretch across her mouth. The joy moved into her eyes before she moved it back. “I love you too.” Isabella was forgotten. Hank was forgotten. Even everyone at the table was forgotten.
It was just the two of us.
Rome lay on the bed, her head dangling over the edge with her face to the ceiling. Her mouth was wide open, and I was fucking her throat at the foot of the bed. One hand gripped her firm tit while the other gripped the edge for balance.
I rammed my cock inside her warm mouth, hitting her deep in the throat every time. Her saliva dripped down her face and onto the carpet at my feet. “Mrs. Owens…just like that.” Anytime I had the opportunity to call her by that name, I did. I didn’t care about referring to her as sweetheart anymore.
She kept her tongue flat and only breathed when I gave her the opportunity to. She’d become an experienced submissive, doing the things I enjoyed without hitting her own triggers. We’d come to a good understanding of what the other person could handle. She didn’t fulfill every single desire I had, but she made up for it in other ways.
I was on the verge of coming since I could see my cock press against the inside of her throat. Her skin moved every single time I thrust, and seeing my own definition made me want to squirt down that beautiful throat of hers.
I pulled out then grabbed my belt from the floor. “On your stomach, feet on the ground.” I slapped the belt against my hand and made a cracking noise, telling her I meant business.
She turned over and moved to the edge of the bed, but she held herself up on her hands and knees.
“On your stomach.”
She shook her ass in my face. “Master, punish me.”
I slapped the belt against her ass hard, wanting to punish her for defying me. “Call me Husband. Nothing else.” I’d thought Master was the most powerful word in the world, but when she called me Husband, it gave me a new thrill. I loved it.
She gasped when she felt the belt bite her skin.
“On your stomach.” I wanted to spank her like a child over my knee.
She still didn’t cooperate. “You want to be punished more?” I slapped her with the belt again, making her shift forward. “These aren’t part of the ten, just to be clear.” I’d give her ten new ones when she was in the right position.
Rome turned over, wearing her black bra and thong. She looked beautiful when she was stripped down to her undergarments, her brown hair soft and curly. Her eyes contrasted against the darkness of the room, completely beautiful. “Calloway.”