I know that tone. The rawness of Leith’s voice, a menacing threat ribboned throughout, sends jabs of electricity along my throbbing walls. Licking my lips, I revel in the impending sanity. All I knew was happiness in my parents' love affair. But to see them fall so far, I’m just dysfunctional enough to beg for the opposite. Give me chaotic love, anarchy.
Stilling the desire in my voice, I retort, “Do your worst, Leith.”
“Asye wish.”
Turning around and regarding Leith isn’t required. My husband lifts me like a ragdoll. My face plants in the mattress, and his hand claws around my neck. While his lips are dropping kisses along my spine, the line between indulgence and agony blurs.
Kisses fall along the erogenous zone of my spine until I measure the oxygen in my lungs. I’m reminding myself to breathe just as it all depletes to nothingness.
“Arch, now!” Leith commands while his hand curls around the back of my neck. His teeth sink into my ass, and a scream launches from my throat. His hot, wet tongue drives a pulse between my slit. His other fingers slide over the globe of my ass, applying more pressure as I arch farther. His tongue seeks my swelling clit as he feasts on me from behind.
In a tone heavy from lust, Leith snarls, “Ye want me tofeckthis pussy with my tongue ‘til ye come, aye?”
Squirming and rolling my hips backward to meet his mouth, I shout, “Yes, ohhh, yessss!”
“I could make ye cum, but nae. Tonight, I’d rather make ye scream instead.” His tongue writhes around my sex.
“I’m sorry,” I moan, twirling my hips, offering him more of a feast.
“Too bad,” Leith hisses under his breath, removing his tongue from the swollen button of flesh he’d expertly controlled.
“Leith, please,” I beg, though the kink in me marvels in climbing to the highest precipice only to be denied to cum.Oh, but when he lets me!When Leith finally lets me cum, I’ll crash land on Venus.
Though a contradiction, I beg, “I need you, Leith.”
“Aye, ye do.” His tone is tender as his cock takes a languid journey around my wetness.
“So, nae kiss for me, aye?” His brooding voice causes me to rain down on his erection.
The hand that was clawing into my neck twines my hair around his fist. Upon gaining leverage, my slick valley becomes his cock’s speedway. The delicious percussion of his balls slapping against my clit sends a symphony of me singing his name, filling the air. “Ohhh, Leith, yesss, Leith, I love you!”
The length of him stretches me in deliberate, powerful strokes. My entire tune, demeanor, has changed. Hell, forget a cup half empty or half full. Mine is teeming, overflowing. Between my thighs is the land of milk and honey.
While I whimper a falsetto, goosebumps of arousal appear over my flesh as his heated hips slap against my ass. Fingers clutching into the sheets, I meet my husband’s thrusts. I’m telling myself to shut up, but my entire body is a tell. As my walls prepare to clamp down, holding his cock hostage, I scream, “I’m about to—”
Leith’s powerful dick pulls out. His fingertips stroke the slick perspiration across my hips. Now, I’m angry. I curse his name until his lips slide where his cock once loved.
“I hate you. I hate—” My emotions burgeon, love blossoms between us, and my hips begin to rock and roll, delving into the sweetness only he can offer. When he comes up for air, Leith flips me around and grapples me like an MMA fighter on the mat.
“Shit,” I hiss when he thrusts into me.
Our tongues cease their wrestling as he groans, “Hen, ye will cum at my command.”
“What about now?” I ask. Blood pulses through my veins in a wild, uncontrollable beat. “Let me cum now, please!”
With his skillful dick bruising deep inside of me, Leith grips a hand along my throat. “Nae. All thisarseand hips and bloodyfeckin’attitude. I’m gonna make ye work for it.”
Leith positions me all over the room, fucking me hard until the sun comes up. On the back of the lounger, on the floor. We’re standing up against the wall. My leg drapes over his forearm, and my palm rests on the dresser. I cum harder and faster each time. Even with me bouncing on his dick, straddling him at the edge of the bed, Leith is in a position of dominance. He owns the night, and he owns me.
* * *
The eveningbefore Leith drives out to Silicon Valley for the workweek, I labor in the kitchen, creating his favorite meal. Scottish salmon lays on a mountain of mashed potatoes in the center of an aqua blue plate. For Mia, there’s a tinier mountain of macaroni and cheese. She will push her side of broccoli along the circumference of her plate until we give her an ultimatum—the broccoli or the salad I also made. Forcing the Minion’s hand occurs every night at dinner.
As I pour a crisp wine, I ask, “Are we still moving to the valley?”
Though I’m not observing him directly, Leith’s eyes flit. A shiver of disappointment runs through me, disturbing my concentration.
“Aye, Chevelle. Just maybe next year is all.Wit, hen?”