Chapter 1 #2
I swallowed the yes please that wanted to spill from me and went back to the script we had discussed with the therapist ahead of time.
“No, please! Let me go!”
“No. Now turn around.”
When I obeyed my husband, feeling the whisper of the knife past my skin, he reached in his pocket and I saw the glint of a condom pack.
But, feeling emboldened beyond anything, I slapped it out of his hand. He had a vasectomy anyways, and as a recommended part of the therapy sessions he’d gotten an STD test.
Henry’s eyes glinted at me, and I was transfixed by the heat blazing from that hypnotic amber eye.
He had always had a humiliating amount of power over me, ever since we’d met at a work conference.
I was an office assistant for a rival company, and for a man like Henry Santerre it was easy to seduce me.
I’d never met a man like him before. Handsome, harsh, intense, and domineering.
Without another word, Henry shoved me back onto the work table, a hand on my jaw and sliding down to my throat.
For a moment, I tensed as he ripped down my silky pajama bottoms and panties.
My body was so embarrassing, and my husband sometimes made comments about it. Like, what was I doing all day? Why didn’t I just go to the gym more? Why had I let myself go?
Then with a clink of his belt he had his cock in his hand, the large size and heft making my pussy clench with desire.
Surely he could feel how dripping wet I was, how close I was to coming before he even put his cock inside me.
He lined the thick length up at my entrance, and I kicked out at his massive thigh, feeling the adrenaline surge through my body.
The anticipation had me weak inside, my pussy soaked and ready, my fingers curling into the wood of the table.
The way he had his hands on me was fucking phenomenal, his fingers loosely caged around my throat so I could feel every beat of my heart in his palm.
“I was going to go easy on you, but not if you’re going to be a brat,” he growled, his eyes shining darkly at me through the slits in the mask, and he snapped his hips forward and buried his cock inside me.
Shit, hell
I had taken him so many times, but he still felt way too thick for my channel, my back arching up desperately to get an angle it would be easier to take him at.
I was a good wife and had tried so hard to be exciting, sexy, but all the blowjobs and sex in the world hadn’t kept my husband from straying.
Maybe roleplaying had been the key all along, because instead of his usual quick and distracted sex, now he was staring at me with laser-focus intensity, those familiar dark and amber-gold eyes gleaming at me as he thrust inside, dragging his cock out through my dripping channel and back in again.
Forgetting the role I was supposed to be playing, I let out a moan, my head falling back onto the wood, my plump thighs tightening around his hips.
It just felt so good, and the shed was completely dark so I didn’t have to worry about all my rolls or anything.
I wanted to lengthen this out, make it last forever, but I could feel arousal tingling up my spine, swirling in my core.
My hands were gripping his arm and he suddenly dropped his hand from my throat and ripped at his mask in the dark, gripping my hair tight to kiss me.
Usually Henry didn’t bother to kiss much, but it was one of the things I had tentatively mentioned I wanted to do more of, and my lips raised eagerly to his.
My husband’s kiss was raw, ravenous as he pounded inside me, the sound of our bodies connecting feeling lewd and dirty in the stillness of the night.
My ass made filthy slapping sounds as he fucking ground me into the table, the contact of his hard, muscular stomach heating up my clit, and I felt frantic for release.
Henry grunted like he was going to come.
But that was impossible. He always had to say something like “take it, bitch.” Or “take it, fat bitch.”
That’s what got Henry off. The degradation.
Where was the take it, fat bitch?
His fingers bit into my wide hips, my thick thighs.
Any second now. . .
But I heard his telltale breathing, that hitch that signaled he was about to come.
“Come, damn it,” he grunted at me, and I obeyed instantaneously, coming embarrassingly fast, with a trembling moan, tits shaking and thighs trembling as the ecstasy roared through me.
It was white-hot, exquisite pleasure to be taken so masterfully by my husband, and his breath on my throat made my sticky skin sing. I tightened my arms around his back, feeling the familiar powerful lines of muscles under my fingers and burying my hands in his thick black hair.
Maybe this would be the start of something new for us. . .
“Fuck,” he said in a low, rumbly tone and I felt his cock twitch as he poured hot cum into my channel, each movement rubbing against my pulsating walls in a way that lengthened my pleasure until I was almost screaming at the end.
His cum felt delicious in my cunt, and I wriggled in pleasure.
“Henry,” I breathed into his ear.
My nipples were diamond-bright points, rubbing against his muscular chest through the dark shirt, and I moaned as he kissed my throat, pulling him closer.
“I love you so much,” I whispered.
My heart was singing.
He cared about me after all, more than that stupid merger. And he had fully committed to the role, too. I couldn’t wait to go over every single thing he’d done and tell him how hot it was.
My arms joyfully squeezed him tighter as a beam of moonlight shone through the shed window, my hands running down the back of his neck. His skin felt burning hot to the touch as his kissed my throat again, licking up a long line of my sweat in a way that felt extra naughty and wanton.
And as my fingers dug into him, he was running a hand down my side, past my heavy breasts and to the rolls on my belly.
For a moment I tensed, but I felt his naked cock twitch again inside me.
“Fuck, you're so hot.”
My spine stiffened, and my fingers suddenly froze.
Since when did Henry like those? I had never heard him do anything but bitch about my extra rolls.
My fingers, still heavy with my orgasm, tightened on his dark shirt and I pulled, the lines of rippling muscles appearing under the bright sparkle of my massive diamond wedding band.
He twisted around to stop me, but it was too late.
I had seen the dark, dangerous lines of the tattoo, the angry slashes that made up the dead-white skull.
Blinking in dismay, my stomach sunk in disbelief.
Holy fuck
This wasn’t my beloved husband at all.
It was his identical twin brother, Hunter.