Page 88 of His Darkest Obsession

My head bobs up and down. Spit and precum mix in my mouth, dribbles down my chin, and splashes soundlessly amidst the crashing waters of the shower.

He inserts a single finger in, and the moment he does, I feel like my body squeezing greedily around it until pleasure crests like waves through my body.

I'm dangerously close to breaking. Dangerously close to pleading for release. But I just keep sucking him. Keep massaging his balls. Keep stroking his shaft. Keep listening to the moans punching out from his throat each time I take him deep down in mine.

The first pulse flutters against my tongue, light as a shadow. And my pussy clenches tighter around his finger as it happens.

Oh… Oh God…

The two of us shatter together as our orgasm crashes into us all at once. Hot ropes of salty semen fill my mouth while my soaked pussy clamps down around his finger. A trembling groan rips out of his throat as he cums, and I swallow as much and as fast as I can.

But it’s too much.

I’m forced to pull my head back, and a spurt of hot jizz spills across my face, my chin, and my tits. Without his cock in my mouth, I cry out loudly as I come around his finger.

My screams reverberate in the bathroom and for a moment, the two of us are suspended in bliss. We’re lost in the steamy hot water falling down all around us. Slowly, he withdraws his finger from me and licks it clean.

He hooks his finger under my chin and takes my hand in his. Together, we rise up, panting, and then he kisses me, hard and deep. Air drains from my lungs as the aftershocks of pleasurecontinue to course through my body. His tongue pushes into my mouth so that we can taste each other.

When we finally part, our eyes meet for a brief moment under the hot water. Shallow breaths inhale the same air. Our heartbeats slow until they beat as one. The electricity between us doesn’t diminish. If anything, it becomes more intense.

He turns me around and holds me close to his heaving chest, runs his hand over my body under the warm water, and lathers me up in soap to slowly wash his cum off. And when his lips brush my ear, and his searing breath tickles my cheek.

I lean back against the hard planes of his body and close my eyes as his large hands continue to roam my body under the warm water.

Next week, we’ll attend the gala where I’ll finally come face to face with Mayor Grant Bennet after two years.

After he ordered the death of my father to keep me silent.

When I married Anatoly, I wasn’t sure that he could deliver me what my heart wants even though he said that he would.

But now?

After what we did—both in that hellish basement and just now—I’m finally starting to believe that he’ll keep his promise.

30

ANATOLY

ONE WEEK LATER

My wife looks absolutely stunning.

Indigo stands with me at the edge of the crowded gala at the Met, the midnight blue cocktail dress cascading down every curve of her body. The fabric shimmers under the dim light with every step, and a hundred pair of eyes turn when the two of us walk into the grand ballroom.

The sapphire and diamond necklace I selected rests against her collarbone, and they complement the color of her dyed hair, even as the dark copper red roots start peeking out from the intense blue.

“They’re all looking at you,” she whispers as we cross the room.

“Not me,britvochka,” I correct her. “They’re looking at you.”

“It’s overwhelming…” she breathes.

“I’m right here next to you.”

She squeezes my hand and turns towards me. “Shall we?”

In the week since I exacted vengeance on the cops who murdered her parents, the walls surrounding her heart has started crumbling whenever she’s around me. Our dinners are no longer filled with cold silence, and every once in a while, I even catch her looking at me with a tiny smile on her face.