Playing with Fire: A Standalone Dark Romance

Chapter Thirty-five

A groan slips past my lips as pleasure whips down my spine. Something warm and wet is moving over my cock, stroking it eagerly.

My eyes open and I dip my chin, finding Olivia between my legs, my cock in her mouth. She flicks her eyes to me, and she grins, her teeth scraping up my shaft.

“Fuck,” I growl, my fingers slipping into her hair. She bobs her head and then one of her hands slides up my inner thigh before her nails scrape across my balls.

My hips jerk, my cock thrusting further into her mouth, causing her to gag, but she just takes it, even when her eyes water. Her tongue swirls around me messily, and when she cups my balls and squeezes, almost so tight it hurts, I nearly fucking spill down her throat.

But if she’s waking me up by sucking my dick, you can damn well know I’m not coming in her throat. I’m filling her up so she can start her day where she fucking belongs.

I grab a fistful of hair and pull her off me, making sure I don’t hurt her when I pull. She lets my cock go with a wet pop of her lips and then frowns at me, pouting like I just took away her lollipop.

A feral grin stretches my mouth as I sit up, shoving my pants down the rest of the way before I reach for the shirt on her. She lifts her arms for me, letting me remove it but I don’t discard it.

“On your back, take off your pants.”

She moves as I ask, removing her pants until she’s completely bare for me. Something primal rumbles up inside of me when I drop my eyes to her cunt, finding it glistening with her arousal.

“Arms up.” I demand as I start to twist the shirt, making it thinner so I can use it to bind her wrists. I wrap the material around her hands, pulling it taut and stretching up her arms where I keep the shirt tucked in my fists and then anchor my fingers to the bed.

I hold her like that while my other hand reaches down between us, swiping through her lips as I gather that wetness before I start to roll my fingers over her clit.

“Did sucking my cock get you this wet, kitten?”

“You were hard,” She breathes, “Figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“You’re a dirty little thing, aren’t you,” I praise, slipping my hand down her pussy further so I can enter her with my fingers.

She whimpers as I thrust, stretching her, making sure she’s ready to take me.

“If you lose feeling,” I tell her, referring to the makeshift binds I have her wrists in, “Tell me, okay?” She nods her understanding as I grab the base of my cock and start to slide the head of me through her pussy. Her eyes roll back, and I don’t wait a second longer to thrust into her, her body opening right up for me.

“Malakai!” She screams, her fingers curling into her palms.

“Open your legs wider, kitten,” I demand. She spreads her thighs more for me, and with one hand still holding her arms above her head, I use the other one to hold down her hips as I drill into her, her tits bouncing with every hard, powerful thrust.

Fuck me, she’s like damn heaven. I watch my cock disappearing into her cunt, watch as it comes out covered in her, she’s so damn wet that she soaks me completely.

“My needy little wife,” I praise, jaw slackening as pleasure propels me forward, quickening my hips as I fuck her. Her eyes are squeezed shut, her skin slick with sweat. I move my hand to her clit, using my thumb to caress her and her whole body shudders, her eyes snapping open.

“Yes,” She hisses, “Fuck!”

I focus on her pleasure, focus on bringing her to the edge and I can feel it when she gets there, her pussy fluttering around my cock so I keep going, reveling in the cry as she falls apart for me. I follow her over the edge, hips jerking as I empty myself into her, losing myself to the feel of it.

“Goddamn,” I breathe, letting go of the bedframe so her arms drop above her head, still bound by the shirt. She lays there for a moment, completely limp, eyes hooded as she follows my movement as I roll off her and land at her side, taking a moment to breathe myself.

When I’ve caught my breath, I reach up and start untangling her wrists, bringing her arms down to start massaging at the red marks left behind.

She watches the whole thing silently, and when I’m done with her wrists, I move my hands down her body, touching, feeling, following every curve of her before I cup her pussy, my fingers getting drenched by a mix of me and her.

Her lips part as I lean in, whispering my mouth against hers, “Mine.” I growl before I let go completely and sit up.

She sits up beside me, bringing the sheets up to cover herself.

“Can I have your keys?” She asks me, leaning on the headboard.

“Can you have my what?” I tug my pajama pants back on and stand.

“I want to drive today.”

“No.”

“You can’t have Dennis take me everywhere. I want to drive the Maserati.”

“Absolutely not.”

She pouts, “We’re married. You have to let me.”

I chuckle, “No, I don’t.” I start to walk toward the door, “I’ll grab a shower in another room. See you downstairs for breakfast.”

Olivia joins me in the kitchen sometime later with a pout on her face. She’s dressed impeccably in an all-black pant suit, the blazer is over sized and done up at the middle, but she’s wearing this lacy little thing underneath, teasing her cleavage. She’s slicked back her hair severely, letting her ponytail fall down her back, dead straight and tempting to wrap around my fist. All in all, she doesn’t look like the woman I had thoroughly fucked on the bed this morning, all limp and sated.

“You’re not wearing that.”

Her eyes burn where they touch me, a glower on her face, “And fuck you too.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

She smiles at Louis gratefully as he passes her a bowl of berries and yogurt before she scowls again in my direction.

“Get changed.” I demand.

“No.” She spoons some yogurt into her mouth before she takes a sip of her coffee and checks the time on her watch. She quickens her eating, before she downs the rest of her coffee. “I’ve gotta run. Nail appointment to catch.”

“Olivia,” I warn.

“Have a good day, darling,” she flutters her lashes as she makes a move for the door. I’m going after her in the next breath.

“You’re showing everything,” I growl.

“Like a give a single fuck,” She snatches away from my hand, “Stop fucking trying to control me.”

My nostrils flare, “I don’t want every man looking at you, Olivia.”

She scoffs, “So what if they look?” She quirks a brow, “What does it matter?”

“You’re mine.”

“And if another woman looks at you?” She flicks her eyes up and down me, “There’s plenty of women who love a man in a suit. Go change.”

I open my mouth and then snap it shut.

“Exactly,” She clicks her fingers, “Your argument is invalid and honestly, annoying. You don’t get to tell me what to do, Malakai and you need to get over that.”

“Just do up another button,” I compromise but she slaps my hands away when I reach for the blazer.

“Be a good boy,” She pats my hand, “And try not to think about all the men getting an eyeful of my tits, and maybe I’ll let you fuck me again.”

“Olivia,” I rasp.

“Have the day you deserve, Malakai.”

And then she walks out with me watching after her. Fuck me sideways, that woman will be the death of me.

I trudge back into the kitchen pinching the bridge of my nose. Louis looks away immediately, filling up my coffee mug before he busies himself with food prep.

“Your wife ever do as you ask her?” I ask the man.

“Nope,” He laughs, “I stopped trying. But I do know you shouldn’t tell your wife what to wear.”

I glare at him but he just shrugs, “It’ll do no good.” He continues, “And she’ll only wear something worse just to piss you off.”

Yeah, I could see Olivia doing that.

“Fuck me.” I grumble.

“She’s your partner, no?” Louis continues. “You compromise.”

“Olivia isn’t the type to compromise.” Neither was I to be honest. I like things my way or no way at all. Everything is controlled, precise, planned out. But she came in and blew it all up.

“Miss Olivia is a very sweet woman,” Louis continues, “She has big feelings.”

I grunt noncommittedly and finish my coffee.

And then I spend the rest of my day trying not to think of all the men looking at my wife. I had a feeling if I knew just how many even dared, I’d be digging a lot of graves.