Her Reluctant Wife: A Lesbian Age Gap Romance

Coralyn lasted six days. Six days that were pure agony.

She had the prickling feeling that she was only prolonging her

punishment, as Giana called it, and that was only going to

make things worse. Every single day felt like more torture,

wondering what kind of devious shit Giana would devise.

Take off your pants. Right. as if she’d been going to do that.

But fuck, she wanted to.

Coralyn knew what kind of promise Giana offered, with that

dark glint in her eye and that feral smile turning up her sensual

lips. She knew what kind of bliss she could fall into if she let

Giana have control. But what kind of person did that make

her? She could call what they’d done in Giana’s living room a

mistake and even justify it by telling herself that she wanted to

be close to someone in the midst of her grief. How could she

justify anything now? She knew she’d be lying to herself if she

told herself that when Giana had given her those filthy

instructions, her heart hadn’t raced, and she wasn’t

immediately soaked between her legs.

Yet, after all those days of waiting, delaying, putting it off,

she still found herself on Giana’s doorstep, just as Giana

infuriatingly predicted she would.

Giana’s expression when she answered that timid knock was

something close to triumphant, though she was scowling.

“Don’t gloat,” Coralyn snapped. She’d come to make peace,

to beg Giana to just go through with the annulment and forget

everything else if she had to. She hadn’t come to make war,

but that’s exactly what she was doing. That’s how they’d met.

How they’d come together. Not in the calm easiness like most

people did, but in the turmoil and destruction.

“I’m not gloating.” Giana let her come in. The door closed