Chapter 5 #2
What better way to taunt him with what he couldn’t sink his cock into?
First I ate my steak and potatoes, breaking the bone when I was done and sucking the marrow out of it as he watched me with hungry eyes.
Then I laid out the doggie bowl and pushed it toward him. I bent over, his eyes following the line of my thighs, and put in a big scoop of potatoes and a few pieces of cut steak.
“Here. Don’t forget to lick it up when you’re done.”
Give in, I thought to myself as he stared at the bowl. You know you want to.
But he bent over the bowl with his massive shoulders, hands braced on the floor and flushing all the way to his hairline, first catching the steak with sharp teeth, then trying to eat the potatoes as neatly as he could.
Something was pressing against the dark fabric of his slacks, but in the shifting shadows I couldn’t tell what it was for sure.
The sight of him on his hands and knees eating the food I gave him was very satisfying. A little too satisfying.
“Now lick the bowl.”
For a moment, Silas glared up at me and defiance flared in his eyes as his knuckles curled on the floor. His breathing sounded ragged in the quiet of the library.
Something pulled deep in my belly, but I ignored it.
“You don’t have to do this,” I reminded him airily. “You can stop anytime you want. You’re completely free to go.”
“No.”
He bent down and began to lick the bowl, his tongue flicking out as he licked up the mashed potatoes.
And now I could see there was definitely something hanging low and heavy between his legs. That big cock he used so delicately on me. Because the rough stuff was for his affair partner, and the boring sex was for me.
“Good pet,” I said. “You can take a piece of steak from my fingers now. For cleaning your doggie bowl.”
He started to get up.
“Oh, no,” I corrected. “You’ll crawl to me.”
Silas chewed on his lip but instantly started to move, the bell on his collar tinkling. Watching my harsh, cold husband crawl submissively toward me was doing something to my insides, which was unfortunate because I absolutely loathed him.
I held out a piece of steak as he got closer and my husband opened his mouth for it, tongue brushing my fingers as he sucked the meat into his mouth.
He was breathing heavily, pupils dilating, his cock knocking into the leg of the couch.
“Mistress, may I have another?”
“Aw, did that turn you on?” I said coolly. “Who said you could get hard? Naughty. Go back to your bed.”
The throbbing in my pussy was now truly pissing me off as I watched him crawl back to his bed and turn around.
“Why are you doing this, Silas? Just go be with Whitleigh.”
His eyes darkened further, another dark lock of hair falling, curling over his ears.
“I want you,” he growled. “I don’t want her. I never wanted her.”
“You never wanted her? After your whole tearful speech about how you just had to seek her out for special spanking purposes?”
I laughed scornfully as he paled under his tan.
“You were right,” he said. “When I married you I was looking for the perfect politician’s wife.
I thought that would look good for my career.
But I don't care now. I just want you. Yeah, this is turning me the fuck on. It’s fucking hot as shit degrading myself and crawling to you.
Because anything you do turns me on. Be a tradwife or a raging bitch, I don’t care.
I want you either way. I want another chance to try this for real. ”
Heat was dripping down my thighs, and why should I deny myself any pleasure when I had a man here thirsting to give it?
“All right, you can come over, but I think you’ll need a leash on. You don’t look in control.”
For a moment, I saw his harsh face flush red, flooding his cheeks and reddening his throat and down to where his shirt was unbuttoned to the muscular pectorals dusted with dark hair.
I waited to see what he’d do as I held out the leash.
Would he give in? Tear the collar off and agree to this divorce?
After all, I was absolutely of no use to him politically. In fact, I’d be a detriment. Because I wasn’t going back to the old Paloma.
“Yes, Mistress,” he said in a low, rough voice. “Whatever my Mistress wants.”
My nipples tingled and I stood up and walked over to him, snapping the pet leash onto his dog collar.
Then I put the tip of my stilettos on his throat.
“I will allow you to pleasure me. Because of how nicely my pet licked his bowl.”
“Yes, Mistress,” he growled. “I live to serve you.”
“But it means nothing more than that to me. No emotions. You’re just the nearest man.”
“It means nothing to you,” Silas said. “But I desire nothing more than to please you.”
I ignored him and began to dog-walk my husband across the room on his leash.
Click click click went my sharp heels on the wooden floor and he padded along beside me, big knuckles dragging along the ground.
“Look up!” I said sharply. “Nobody likes a lazy pet.”
Then I sat down on the sofa and leaned back so he could just glimpse my pussy, the leash held lightly in my hand.
“You may attempt to please me. But keep your hands behind your back. They’ve been crawling all over the floor and they’re very dirty.”
But as he crawled eagerly between my spread thighs, he made a low oath and gripped my calves convulsively.
“You’re wet,” he gritted out, flashing those dark eyes up to me.
Feral bastard.
I tugged on his leash. Not hard enough to hurt. But hard enough to get his attention.
“Bad pet. I said no touching.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
Without the use of his hands, he had to nudge my short skirt up with his nose, try to move it with his chin as he burrowed his face between my thighs.
“Let me use my hands to take off these fishnets.”
“No,” I said airily, ignoring the fact that heat was pulsing through my pussy. “If you can’t get in, don’t bother.”
With a low growl, he tore at the fishnets with his teeth, ripping them to shreds as he chewed through the fabric.
Then as my nipples hardened to painful, diamond-bright points, Silas dove into my cunt.
Before, he’d handled me with the delicacy of china glassware, two pump chumping me with soft kisses. Now he was like a starving man led to a trough.
I refused to encourage him, so I remained silent as he ate me out eagerly, his groans and gasps and low rumbles the only noise in the library besides the crackling of the fire.
“You’re so delicious, Mistress!” he moaned.
I tugged on his collar.
“Down, boy!”
His pupils were blown wide with arousal, and I could hear his dripping cock dragging along the ground.
“You think you can come without permission?”
“I—”
“I wrapped the leash tight around my hand.
“No coming. Do you agree?”
He was so close I could see the beads of sweat pouring down his throat, the way his heart was hammering in his chest.
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Proceed then.”
I leaned back, and he dove for my clit again, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud, then plunging inside me, like he wanted to suck up every drop of arousal.
It was positively filthy how deep he stuck his tongue inside me, how the floor was slick underneath my heels. I could feel arousal coiling in my belly, building in my pussy, and I pulled on the leash, but my husband was like a man possessed.
Clenching my teeth together, I came noiselessly and without warning, and Silas yelped like a feral wolf, smashing his face into my folds, licking up every drop as he panted and whimpered.
His face was still wet, my release dripping down his chin, when he looked anxiously up at me.
“Did you like that? Was it good?”
I said nothing as my thighs shook and stars clustered in the corners of my vision, holding his dark primal gaze until I could talk normally.
“I’ve had better.”
“Please, let me do it again!” he said eagerly. “I can do it even better next time!”
“Ho hum,” I said. “It’s bedtime now. Playtime is over for the night.”
“Please, Mistress, let me sleep in the same bed as you.”
“You want to keep doing pet play?” I asked sharply.
He leaned back on his heels and gestured down to his cock.
He looked ruined and heavy-lidded, his cock leaking down his legs so hard the entire bottom of his pants was soaked, his shirt stuck to his sculptured chest with sweat.
“Yes,” he said in a low rumble, and his eyes under those dark lashes gleamed at me.
Fucking hell, he was stubborn.
I got up and tugged on the leash, heading upstairs to bed and forcing him to scramble up the stairs behind me to keep up.
“You may sleep beside in your pet bed. The big bed is for good pets,” I said sternly.
“Yes, Mistress,” he replied docilely.
Damn, how long was this going to take? I needed to get rid of this fucker so I could get the $5 million dollars.
Why was he so insistent on staying married? It was ridiculous. I knew Silas Di Pietro did not have a heart. Why was he pretending he loved me?
“Then maybe soon we’ll try something different and go to the club,” I said. “See how you like watching me with another man.”