Page 156 of Carnal Wagers

“You have to give me yours too,” she whined, head tossed back, lost to the pulsing heat my touch stirred.

“Ask and you’ll receive. I’ve not hidden anything from you the last month.”

With every swipe of my fingers, flick over her nub, and rim of her pussy, she moaned louder and writhed more breathlessly, rare words making it through her pleasure. Each time I withheld her orgasm and pulled my touch away, she confessed her sins amid begging pleas. I learned about her hacker cousin disrupting my surveillance software and aiding in fabricating her identity. She admitted her original plan to seduce me into loving her under the guise of another woman so I’d sign the divorce papers to her alter ego before she left me high and dry and humiliated.

“And if Brody hadn’t cut through your ruse, what then?” One strike of my knife cleaved through the suspension line spreading one of her legs. I repeated the cut on the other side, and her thighs slapped shut. “Would you have accepted the papers?”

I got to my knees and tossed her legs over my shoulders. Her pink, swollen pussy lips winked with enthusiasm and pulsed with need, her beautiful hole fluttering open and closed, practically pleading with me to fill it. It had nothing to worry about. I’d deliver everything she needed and more.

“Tell me, síbhean. What would you have done?”

“I would have—” Her words cut off as I licked one swipe over her needy flesh.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop talking.”

She growled a whimper. The sound was endearing. My nose nuzzled her bud, and my breath fanned her already sensitive skin.

“I-I l-ove you. I w-want you. Always. The papers don’t…m-matter. I want to stay with you. That-that’s what I wanted. I was going to tell you. I-I promise.”

Her back bowed as I kissed a trail down her cunt. For her honesty, I rewarded her with three fingers buried deep inside her and a thumb pressed against her back entrance as my tongue swirled her clit.

“You love me?”

“Yes,” she said with a strained whimper. “Cillian, please, I need to—”

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

My mouth devoured her pussy, intent on sucking the pleasure right out of her, knowing it all depended on me. Everything she felt was mine to command.

“You’re such a good slut for me.”

“Yes,” she groaned. “Make me come.”

“Almost there, sweetheart, but you still have more to tell me.”

By the time she was left a sobbing mess, legs shaking, muscles seizing, garbled pleas all she had the strength to utter, she had admitted the chemical sale had been a hoax, a way to give me the funds, which my pride twinged at. She revealed the bet with her friend about the divorce, and that she’d been stalking me a lot longer than the last couple of months, albeit through private investigators. I also finally discovered that HD meant husband dearest, to match the script of her tattoo in the French equivalent. She’d been calling me that since the beginning, owning me just like I was claiming her now. I didn’t think it was possible to love her more.

“Cillian.” She shuddered a desperate moan. “Please.”

“You’ve been such a good wife. Time for your reward.”

I dove back between her legs, where no one else but me would ever have access to again. She gasped as I ravished her exactly like she needed. Her thighs clamped around my ears, shutting out everything but her. Her smell. Her taste. Her need. All mine. My cock demanded a part to play, but this was about her. She bucked against me, thrashing and keening sharp moans, as her stomach tightened. And when she crested her peak, pulsing around my fingers in waves, her body flush and convulsing, her face lost in the raptures of bliss, she squirted down my arm and onto my shirt.

“Delicious.” I gently kissed her pussy lips and withdrew my fingers to her quivers. “Good for you?”

She nodded dreamily, laying her head along her shoulders.

“Time for number two.”

Her legs shut, or tried to, with my head playing interference.

“Not yet,” she begged breathlessly.