CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Ava
“N ow, you need to be punished for what you did.” Griffin reaches for the waistband of those sexy cargo pants he wears when he turns into a warrior. “How you worried me.”
“You can’t wait until we get home?” I glance around and then down at Ted’s lifeless body. “Won’t the clean-up team be here soon?”
“Then we better work fast. Take off my belt, Ava. I need to fill that lovely mouth with my cock. Don’t make me ask you again.”
Clearing my throat, because I know I’m in for a brutal throat fucking, I unravel the saddle brown leather belt from his pants. The buckle clanging punctuates the silence.
Slipping it around the loop, Griffin takes it from me. “Good wife. Now unzip me.”
“You’ve got two perfectly good working hands for that.”
He holds my jaw with the one that’s bloody. “Say that again.”
I could be a brat and tell him that I love giving him head so this is hardly a punishment. I put myself at risk when I didn’t have to. I get it. Saying sorry won’t help me.
Unzipping him, I brush my hand against his erection. He hisses from the contact. “Fuck, wife. Don’t worry, this will be quick.”
And that...disappoints me. God, I’m sick. I actually like this. It seems like he’s forcing me, but he’s not. I know this man enough by now that I have the power to say no. He respects me. But he also trusts me to learn from my mistakes with grace.
“All the way out,” he rasps as his length unfurls in my hand. “Yeah. See what you do to me?”
People say the Irish are cold. They’re referring to icy, dead stares from colorless eyes. My husband rages hot. His cock is no exception. The heat of his skin never disappoints.
I open my mouth, but Griffin rests bloody fingers against my lips. “No.”
I whimper with a mixture of disappointment and anxiousness. In a move that shocks me, he winds the belt around my neck, the ends tightened by his fists.
“You need another lesson in trust.” He squeezes it, our eyes locked.
He’s waiting for me to tap out, for it to be too much.
I blink, my throat jerking, and he loosens it. But after I take a breath, he fastens it tighter. The belt around my neck feels oddly...satisfying. The hold is the symbol of how this man owns me.
I shift my foot, bumping into a hip, reminding me I’m next to a dead guy. The ultimate desecration. I only wish I could tell Jenna that my husband killed this guy and that she’ll never have to worry again. She’s going to be looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life.
No, I’ll make sure she knows.
“I’m waiting, wife.” Griffin tightens the belt.
I calm down, realizing the belt is at just the right tightness so I can breathe and accommodate his cock down my throat. Summer heat clings to the air, the sweat returning to my body all over again, but the dampness under my clothes creates an icy chill.
Gripping his long, thick erection, I bring my tongue to the crown and bless it with a wet kiss.
“Fuck, Ava,” he groans at my teasing. “All the way. Take me down your damn throat.”
I swallow as much as I can take before gagging until I realize he’s using the belt to guide my head.
Within seconds, I lose myself to the taste of him. He’s all musk and soap and even a bit of pleasant sweat. Then there’s how his cock feels in my mouth, silky and smooth except for one thick vein underneath. I swallow him as far as I can go.
“Jesus, Ava,” Griffin chokes out while I’m the one with a cock gagging me.
I glare defiantly at him as I take him deeper, but meet his groans with my own because this is hot.
“Let’s try something. Breathe through your nose. Trust me.” He shoves his cock even further until it slides down my throat.
He tightens the belt until ninety percent of my column is his cock. He squeezes and loosens it while fucking my mouth. All while staring down at me with esteem and respect that I’m pulling this off.
The shit I endured to be a SEAL taught me how to hold my breath. This is nothing. It takes a lot to drain the life out of me.
Griffin’s eyes get wild on me, an unhinged aura rising around him. Next, he’s snarling Gaelic curses during this carnal game that he’s losing.
With the tables turned, I suck harder, closing my throat even more. I contract my muscles and let the saliva drip out, making it slippery and messy.
“Fuck, you’re making my balls wet.” He breathes roughly. “I love your fucking mouth and wish I was here to hear how you sassed off to this dead asshole. Oh, Christ.”
His head falls back and his next moan of pleasure is a shot right to my core. When he’s in this state, and I’m in complete control of him, I’m throbbing between my legs.
“I’m fucking close, wife.”
And the clock is ticking. I don’t want anyone to see that my husband put me on my knees, collared me with his belt, and throat fucked me next to a dead body he killed for me.
Have I left anything out?
Griffin bares his teeth. “I fucking love this, wife. I’m gonna fuck you so good when I get you home.”
My clit thumps and the vibrations powering through me reach my neck.
With a roar, Griffin comes, spilling down my throat.
“Fuck, yeah. Swallow my cum like a good wife.” He buries himself deeper. There’s so much cum that it gurgles back out of my mouth and down my chin.
What a mess. But damn, it’s hot.
He loosens the belt again, and I suck an icy breath into my burning, deprived lungs.
Griffin puts his cock away and lifts me. “Wrap those legs around me.”
I’m wearing leggings so it’s easy.
“Kiss me. Share what I did to you.”
We kiss, and our juices mix together. The world falls away, and we’ve made yet one more connection that will be hard to deny when it’s time to say goodbye as we’ve promised ourselves.
But like that damn belt he’s using to choke me, one more hole is breached, and I’m fastened tighter to him.
“Griff?” a voice with a deep Irish lilt, stronger than his, sounds out behind him.
Griffin spins us around. “Trace, take care of this, will ya?”
“Dead?” his towering enforcer, dressed all in black, asks.
“Quite,” Griffin answers.
“You, or you?” Trace points to each of us with amusement like he’d have no issue if it was me.
“Me,” Griffin admits.
“I was on my way to kill him. He stole my glory,” I pout.
“I ran a check on this guy when you sent me his prints. He’s got a rap sheet and a few warrants for DV in other states.” Trace looks up. “Good work. Both of you.”
But Griffin is kissing me again and doesn’t accept the praise.
Trace barks a laugh. “You two are sure getting along for a couple who tried to kill each other not too long ago.”
Griffin puts me down and tucks me further against him. Strutting past his enforcer, he says, “We’ve bonded over the mutual desire to murder each other.”