Page 70 of Weeping Roses
The table is hard and unyielding and Valentin says roughly, “Lie on your back and spread your legs.”
Fuck! I am mortified and I really hope he has locked the door because the last thing I want is anyone seeing me like this. Valentin is still fully dressed and I remember how he said he would usually pay a woman to do this, and I wonder if that’s his intention. To designate the new role I signed up for. His wife, his unpaid whore. His possession.
There must be something extremely wrong with me because that turns me on more than anything and as I spread my legs as he asked, I close my eyes and wait for an experience I will probably want to forget one day.
But not today. Not now, because I am relishing the position, I’m in. This is so freeing. I don’t have to think of anything, just wait for pleasure to reach up and wrap me in false contentment. Will I become addicted to kinky sex? If anyone can hook me, it’s the man preparing to defile my body with God only knows what.
I sense him approaching and something soft trickles down the valley of my breasts and he whispers, “Gazpacho.”
His tongue laps against my skin and I shiver in unexpected delight as he wraps it around my left nipple before dragging it across to the next. His finger dips inside my mouth and I taste the dish on his skin and he whispers, “Open wider.”
As the liquid trickles inside my mouth, I swallow it, loving the smooth texture and delightful flavor.
He wraps a napkin around my eyes and says in a husky whisper, “Give into your senses, feel rather than see. Smell rather than touch and focus on me at all times.”
The liquid trickles down through my legs, coating my throbbing pussy, and I groan when his tongue swipes against my folds. I make to move and he growls, “Remain still, don’t speak, don’t move, and don’t make a sound.”
I freeze as he laps against my body, his tongue dragging against my heated skin, and I almost groan with disappointment when I sense him moving away.
The next thing is something hot against my skin, so hot it sears my flesh, causing me to open my mouth to cry out. I’m shocked when something hard enters it and I can’t close it and Valentin whispers, “I said no sound.”
God knows what this is, but I’m guessing it’s an orange and he says darkly, “Don’t make me restrain you. Do everything I say.”
As the heat travels across my skin, the tears run from my eyes, but Valentin sucks and licks the burning trail and I soon forget the pain. It’s so good, so wicked, and as he sucks my flesh, it really does feel as if he is eating me and not the food.
I am so turned on I can think of nothing else and the next sensation is one of freezing ice as he smears something cold against my aching pussy. I want to call out so badly as he pushes something inside me that is definitely not his cock and it feels so wrong, almost as if he has impaled me and he pushes it in and out, fucking me with what could be an ice pick. My pussy is numb, ruined even, and then something hot and delicious trickles over the burn. The ice pick thing is still firmly inside me, but the warm sensation outside is distracting me from the uncomfortable one.
He removes the object from my mouth and his lips fasten on mine and melted chocolate trickles into my mouth and I am delirious with sensation as every part of my body is reacting to something conflicting. Heat, cold, soft and hard. Anticipation is off the scale and, as Valentin kisses me deeply, my entire body is on fire.
He pulls away and I immediately feel the loss and as he removes the cold implement from inside me, his cock presses against my clit.
He grips my hips and in one thrust is inside me, replacing the ice with a delicious heat that sends every nerve ending in my body into total shock.
I see nothing but feel everything and as he thrusts in hard and deep, his cock scrapes against my tender walls and his thumb presses down on my clit.
I open my mouth to speak and he pushes his hand firmly against it and as he hammers me to the table, my orgasm isn’t far away.
Before I can give into it, he pulls out and with a loud growl, he pumps hot salty cum over my body. It’s so intense it covers my chest, neck, and lips and then he inserts three fingers inside me and presses down on my clit and I fall apart as if he has loosened every part of me. I crash through my orgasm as if I am running from danger, and my entire body is affected, my mind gone completely. I even black out for a second because the first thing I’m aware of is the click of a phone and, as the napkin is removed from my eyes, I see Valentin holding his phone up to my face.
I stare in horror at the picture of me, flushed, used and dirty, covered in shit, his cum dripping down my breasts and he leans down and whispers, “This is what it means to be my wife, malyshka. I now own every fucking part of you, only me, only ever me, and this picture demonstrates that better than any formal one of the happy couple.
He kisses my lips that have parted in shock and despite myself, I kiss him back with a vengeance because if he makes me feel even half of what I am now, who the fuck cares anyway?
CHAPTER 39
VALENTIN
We head off to Lower Slaughter early the next morning. We travel in a dark convoy of menace because I am so done with this shit.
It’s time to step up and take charge of the situation, much like I did with Polly and now she is my wife I am the person calling the shots where it concerns her.
She holds my hand and I admit it feels good and as we travel along the motorway, I can tell she is nervous.
“Will we tell her we’re married?”
She asks nervously, and I nod with a deep frown.
“Of course. There is no reason to hide anymore. Marsha Steele needs to understand that we are one step ahead of her.”