Page 7 of What’s Left of Me (What Left #1)

When I can’t take the silence anymore I pull over. The motion is a little quicker than I anticipate, and Jo gasps sharply at the last minute swerve.

“Vinny-” she begins, and I reach across the car to grab her face. I’m used to Jo talking back when she disagrees, and I like that she always wants to voice what she’s thinking. I hate that returning back to our roots is sucking the life out of her.

I squeeze her cheeks, not hard enough to truly hurt but enough to get her attention. With the car idling, I can focus solely on her. “Wrong answer.”

Her lashes flutter, and I want to see her slip into the role she loves.

We might be a power couple at the club we own in Colorado, and stand as a united front here, but beneath it all we have our own kinks and desires just like anyone else.

We built our whole lives off of that. And I’ll do whatever it takes to remind Jo that nothing changes even though we’re here.

We’ll get this shit dealt with and be back in Colorado soon, preferably before the end of the month.

We just don’t want the drama following us back to the Rocky Mountains.

Jo licks her lips, taking her sweet time responding to me. “Master, I don’t know that I can shut off my brain right now.”

I stroke her cheek with my thumb. Sometimes it’s Master, other times she simply calls me Husband. It’s an easy identifier for whether she’s wanting love or punishment, but something nags at the back of my mind that she’s wanting punishment right this second.

She didn’t do anything wrong.

She never did.

“I’ll shut it off for you, Trauma,” I say, already leaning away.

Her eyes are half lidded as she studies me, those blue orbs almost glowing in the late afternoon sun when I use her favorite nickname.

Her glowing blue eyes contrast the silver dermals in her dimple piercings, and it’s the only body modification she likes about herself.

The piercings make her more confident, and I like anything that gives my wife strength.

I’m out of the car before she can protest. I don’t intend on punishing her right this second, but it’ll come up probably before the night is out.

We’re twisted together, and we both enjoy the game of pain.

That existed before Jo gained her scars, even if we were just kids having fun experimenting back then.

The kinks evolved for us when she healed and we both needed a way to combine our pain and pleasure.

Her door is open when I round the car, and a wide field is at my back when I crouch in front of her.

It’s practically silent out here, so the only things I’m going to hear are Jo’s cries and if another car happens by.

Frankly I don’t give a shit if someone sees me kneeling before her.

I’m taking care of my wife, and they can fuck off if they have a problem with that.

“Master-”

I grab her legs, and she helps me pivot her with a little squeal.

She decided on this gauzy outfit that’s billowy around her legs and covers all the scars, but in my opinion it looks like a huge pain to deal with in this humidity.

It doesn’t stop me from kneeling at her feet, shoving the skirt up her legs as high as it’ll go and peering up at her pussy.

Bare. A touch swollen where her lips have puffed up in anticipation, and reaching out I trail a finger over her pussy lips and earn a gasp. I’m rarely this tender with her, but today is a special occasion.

There are scars that skate down her body, long vertical lines that have faded to white marks. They aren’t perfectly straight since they were cut with a crude knife by someone with self-taught butchering experience, so it created a network of uneven scars all across her skin.

Jo hates it. I’m not a fan but I can see past them, down to the woman I love.

Without a word, I lean in and drag the flat of my tongue across her center.

She shudders and I feel the tension in her body go slack, her hips arching a little bit to get my tongue in deeper.

I bunch up the skirt in one hand while I lick her pussy with long strokes, freeing one hand so I can draw lazy circles around her hole.

“I could fuck you out here,” I mutter, letting my breath dance across her skin. “And make you scream to the fields for mercy.”

Jo whimpers. “Pain?”

“Not out here,” I tell her instantly, my hand tightening on the fabric. “That’s for us alone.”

I love Jo’s pain. I thrive on it, and she offers it to me freely. Me, and only me. No one else can be given that much trust without the chance of her getting hurt, and she won't risk that again.

Jo whimpers when I start to fuck her with my tongue, letting my finger travel down her body to trace along her asshole.

I love when she doesn’t wear anything under her clothes, and that’s one of the kinks we keep up with almost all of the time.

Today was no exception, and even though I hated that she had to talk to those assholes alone, I liked the idea of thinking about her bare pussy while those interviews dragged on and on.

When I slide my hand up again and insert one finger in a single push into her pussy down to the knuckle, she rocks against my face with a cry.

She’s getting close, and I’d bet she’s as wound up as I am.

We’ll be staying in tonight to fuck our frustrations out, but this should tide her over until then.

“Good girl,” I growl at her, leaning back just enough to speak the words. “Let me taste you, darling. I want your orgasm on my tongue.”

She doesn't seem to care, rocking on my face. I go back to fucking her with my tongue and one finger before adding a second, and I know this won’t take long. I can’t tire her out too much or there won’t be a follow up back at Emeric’s.

Distantly, I hear a vehicle approaching.

With her door open someone driving the opposite way can’t see much, but someone approaching from behind will see me crouched at her door and it won’t take long to figure out what’s going on.

Jo tenses when she hears it too, and I remove my fingers to grip her leg.

“V-Vinny-”

“Cum for me,” I demand, and I know the spike of unease and fear will help her tumble over the edge. Like my good girl, she can’t help but obey when she’s right there on the edge, and I lap at her when she screams, her voice echoing in the near emptiness around us.

Yeah, that car is going to know damn well what we’re up to.

She’s bouncing on my face as the orgasm washes over her, and I’m too involved in lapping at her pussy to care about anything else. As she slowly comes down from her high, her movements a little less frantic, I hear something new.

An engine turning off. A door. Sounds like the driver decided to stop.

I open my eyes when she shifts, knowing she’s probably trying to sit up and see. I don’t change my grip on her skirt or cover her up, but I do slide my tongue free from her pussy for a moment and turn to see what’s happening.

I don’t recognize the car, but I do recognize the man. Sterling really is the spitting image of his father right now.

And like his father, his eyes devour Jo like she’s there for his viewing pleasure. I’m not helping since I haven’t covered her up yet, my gaze locked on him. I can see the fury and jealousy burning in his eyes as he takes a few steps closer and pauses, hesitating.

His eyes skate between us.

Curiously, I drop Jo’s skirt so she’s covered up again. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind looking at her bare pussy, but I’m positive he was staring at the scars. Jo’s confidence would wither and die if she realized that. I let the material fall back over her legs, her body shifting around as I watch him.

I never had a thing for Sterling like I did Alastair when I was experimenting in my youth. He was annoying, and a failure as a journalist but maybe he’s doing better as an agent. Without breaking my gaze I lift my hand, sucking on one of the digits that was just inside my wife.

The stern look on his face shatters, and his cheeks turn pink. Sterling’s poker face isn’t that good after all.

My cheeks are still wet and I can feel her juices cooling against my skin. Jo shifts around and grabs my shoulder so I don’t move, waiting to see what Sterling has to say.

I wait for judgment, critiques, hell - an arrest. This is public indecency right?

Instead, he awkwardly clears his throat and pivots on his heel. Without a word he storms back to his car and slides into the driver's side again.

Glancing up at Jo, she looks as perplexed as I feel.

Her chest is still rising and falling a little faster than normal, but she doesn’t look worried or ashamed so I feel a bit better about baring her on the road.

She usually likes that kind of thing, but this isn’t the club.

We might have to be a little more careful out here than we are in Colorado.

Sterling starts his car and throws it in reverse. We watch as he backs up then speeds past us, tearing off down the dirt road in a cloud of dust.

Jo waves a hand in front of her face as I stand, the dirt flying everywhere. She glances up when I speak, and I turn to watch his vehicle disappear down the long road. “Well, I guess Sterling is still a bit of a tightass after all.”

I nod, catching the hand she’s batting around to kiss the back of it. She offers me a real smile, making the piercings in her cheeks lift when she grins. “Just like his dad, right, darling?”