Page 55 of Almost Rotten

If he lavished my nipples while I rubbed my clit like this, I would fall harder and longer and deeper than ever before.

“Please” is all I manage to articulate, my desperation making it impossible to voice my need.

Him.

He’s what I want.

Now. Then. Forevermore.

“Make that pussy cry for me, mon ange.” His tone is low and dangerous. “I want to watch you pulse and quake and soak those fucking sheets.”

My body bends to his will, performing like he asked.

I cry out, pleasure and pain and sweet, stickyreliefwashing over me.

My fingers falter as waves of satisfaction roll through me. I’m flying and falling at the same time, a limitless lightness shining like a beacon of hope in every cell.

I feel good.

All the bad goes quiet.

Everything will be okay. It’ll all work out.

I’m floating, weightless, relishing the joy brought on by my orgasm when Ty opens his mouth and snaps me out of my reverie.

“That’s one,” he grunts, his words so low I barely hear them. “Now do it again.”

Chapter twenty-one

Sawyer

“What?” I stammer as I sit up, still panting. I pull a blanket over my chest. I’m not embarrassed to be completely naked and to have just masturbated in front of the man who considers me his wife, but I am very aware of my state of undress. The orgasm left me with a much clearer head.

A wicked smile paints Ty’s face. “You heard me, petit diable. Make yourself come again.”

Fresh, fiery rage fills in all the empty, open, weightless space my release has afforded me.

“That’s not how it works,” I sass back. “Haven’t you ever heard of a refractory period?”

Ty barks out a laugh, like the subject is funny.

Huffy, I sit up straighter and glare. “I can’t just rub another one out right away.”

He lifts one shoulder, but his amused, sly smile stays firmly in place. “Fine. Get out a vibrator. Or invite me to explore between those sweet thighs. You can choose the how, but youaregoing to come again.”

My anger burns hotter. He’s not the boss of me. It’s dangerous to give into his delusions. It’s not safe to journey farther down this rotten path, away from the men I truly want.

And yet…

The submissive, needy part of me wants to play his game.

I want Ty to tell me what to do. I want to relinquish control. So I don’t have to spend another ounce of energy worrying about how wrong and twisted this is.

Deep down, this is what I’ve waited for, what I’ve wished for, for years.

I can’t explain it, and I’m loath to admit it, but his strategy is working. He’s winning. Every time I’m alone with him, my resolve dissipates a little more.

Night by night, orgasm by orgasm, I let go of logic and reason and give into the deeply seated want I feel for Tytus.