Chapter 4 Sebastian #2
“It’s going in your mouth or your ass. You pick,” I tell her, watching her body language carefully.
Slowly, her lips part, close, then part again, and I slide the plug into her mouth, spinning it around once it touches her tongue. “You’re perfect, Little Bird,” I tell her, climbing off her and holding my hand out to help her out of the bed.
She eyes my hand cautiously, like she’s not sure if she should take it. Eventually, she places her fingers against mine, and I tug her to her feet, then pull the plug from her mouth again.
“Shower with me,” I say, softening my tone and turning to head for the bathroom.
Instead of arguing or refusing, she nods, gripping my hand tightly as I tow her away from the bed, my cum slowly dripping down her chest. Turning on the water, I leave the shower to heat while I grab a washcloth and carefully wipe myself from her tits, smoothing the cloth over her nipples and pausing to smile at each of the hickeys I’ve left on her skin.
Once I’ve wiped it all away, I tip her chin up with my finger and kiss her.
Curling my arm around her back, I pull her into me until we’re chest to chest, her skin warm against mine.
As I pull away from her lips, I watch her expression as I part her ass cheeks, find the plug, and slowly drag it out.
Her breath hitches the moment the toy pops free, her shoulders slumping a little as I let her go and turn to drop both of the plugs into the basin.
“I can’t believe,” she starts, her words trailing off when her eyes land on the toys.
“That you slept with a plug in your ass, or that you had several orgasms with one in your mouth?” I ask, raising my eyebrow in challenge.
Her cheeks go pink. “Both.”
“My perfect little bird likes to be treated like a dirty whore,” I purr, curling my hand around her throat and forcing her head up when she tries to drop her gaze. “Don’t you,” I prompt.
Swallowing beneath my hold, she gives a tiny, barely perceptible nod.
“My innocent little wife isn’t so innocent anymore, and it’s time I stopped treating you like you are. Last night you showed me exactly what you need.” Not saying any more, I lift her off her feet and carry her into the shower.
“Can I go to school without my entourage today?” she asks after we’ve eaten breakfast together in the kitchen.
“No,” I tell her simply.
“God, you’re insufferable,” she whines, pushing away from the table and storming into the den.
Unlike yesterday, I don’t go after her. Instead, I head into my home office, keeping an eye on the wall of security monitors I had installed so I could keep track of my runaway bride.
Just like the day before, she’s sitting on the couch, her laptop on her lap, her earbuds in her ears, watching class lectures and taking notes.
I half expected her to retreat to the gym and run off her anger and frustration, but despite her snarky comment, I think she’s too relaxed from this morning’s activities to want to physically run away right now.
Unlike yesterday, I advised her security team to stay invisible today, unless she tries to leave the house.
Then they have orders to reveal themselves in as ostentatious a way as possible.
A part of me wants her to try to leave, just so they can show themselves and piss her off.
After last night, I want her to rage and scream at me, so I have an excuse to remind her exactly how I’m in control of her.
By lunchtime, I’ve spent more time watching my wife than I have concentrating on my own work. Outside of my family’s business interests, I already own and have shares in my own companies, some that I started with the guys and others that I invested in.
To the outside world, I’m a twenty-two-year-old just starting out in the world of business, but in reality, my parents started grooming me for my future from the moment I was old enough to understand what legacy and expectation mean.
I started my first business at eleven and made my first independent million at eighteen.
I’m not some wet-behind-the-ears newbie, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t have responsibilities.
The others and I all decided to stay at school until the girls had graduated, but after Sammy found out she was pregnant, we all agreed to finish as quickly as possible, including moving off campus and taking on our roles as the new heads in training for our family’s businesses.
Right now, I should be at the office, but until things are more settled with Starling, I can’t concentrate fully on work when my marriage feels precariously at risk.
Watching her image on the screen, my mind recalls the way her eyes went huge when I pushed the cum-coated plug back into her mouth and the sounds she made when I threatened to force it into her ass last night.
My dick twitches, swelling behind my suit pants, and reminding me that although I covered her tits in my cum this morning, she didn’t touch me. An email pops onto my laptop screen, and I lose myself in work for a while, looking at the screen every few minutes to check that she’s still there.
Despite being busy, my dick only gets harder as I think about how much more settled she’d been this morning after I’d exerted my control over her body last night.
I’ve been fighting the inevitable, not wanting to admit that mine and Starling’s relationship has changed, but maybe change doesn’t have to be a bad thing.
Maybe I’ve been so fixated on keeping things the same that I’ve been suffocating her with how things used to be instead of celebrating our new normal. Last night Starling loved the way I handled her, and I loved being in control and watching her obey and submit to me.
I love her, and I know she loves me too. But I need control in our relationship, and maybe this is the way I get it, without treating her like she’s a na?ve schoolgirl. An idea starts to form in my head, and my dick swells even harder, eventually pushing me up from my chair and out of my office.
Striding through the house, I start to unfasten my belt as I enter the den, unhooking my pants and releasing my cock the moment I’m standing in front of her. Grabbing her hair, I knock one of the earbuds from her ear and growl, “Open.” My voice is so rough with need I sound like a caveman.
Gripping her hair a little tighter, I turn her head, guiding her toward my waiting dick and pulling her onto it.
“Open your mouth and swallow my dick, Little Bird. I’m hard from watching you.”
Her eyes blink up at me from beneath inky lashes.
As she parts her lips, I push forward, slamming my dick straight to the back of her throat.
I’ve had thousands of blow jobs from my wife, but this is the first time I’ve ever fucked her face, using her hair to drag her up and down my dick while she gags around the head.
Her cheeks hollow as she tries to suck, but I don’t care about her technique. I use her mouth like a hole and fuck into her until I spill my cum straight down the back of her throat, holding her face pressed into my crotch and forcing her to swallow down everything I’m giving her.
Grunting my release, I exhale away some of the tension that had built while I’ve been watching her.
Slowly dragging her off me, I look down at her.
Her eyes are watery, her tears making track marks down her cheeks.
Her lips are red and puffy, wet from drool.
She looks well used, and I fucking love it.
“Jesus, you make the sexiest fucking whore,” I drawl, running the pad of my thumb over her wet lips before I push my spent dick back into my pants, turn, and walk away.
By the time I get back to my office, Starling hasn’t moved.
Her laptop is still half on her lap, half on the couch, her hair tangled and matted from where I’ve buried my fingers in it and used it as a handle to keep her head where I wanted it.
Her expression is dazed, but she doesn’t look mad, and from the way she’s pressing her thighs together, I’d say she’s just as turned on by what I just did to her as I am.
Both Starling and I know what free use is. She read about it in another of her smutty books, and we joked about how crazy it would be to just be able to grab someone and fuck them, or use them with no discussion or foreplay. But that’s exactly what I just did, and she doesn’t seem pissed about it.
Starling and I have always had a healthy, active sex life, but apart from the odd occasion when we’ve been so desperate for each other we haven’t cared about where we are, most of the time we’ve gotten used to fucking in our room so that we didn’t put on a show for our six other roommates.
Now that we live in our own home, that’s not a concern, and I plan to take advantage of that.
If I can’t control my wife’s actions because she’s too damn smart to be scared of me anymore, then I can control her body, and use it how I see fit.