Page 63 of Ruthless Game

Wife, a voice protested in my head, but she’d taken the ring off and hadn’t put it back on again, and, not wanting to disrupt the fragile peace between us, I hadn’t made her.

Although it fucking sucked that she didn’t want to wear it herself.

“What can I give you to get you to wear the jersey?”

“Stop blackmailing me,” she said immediately.

“What can I give you other than the one thing that guarantees you’re in my bed every night?” I clarified, watching as she softened slightly.

“Practice doggy paddling the next time we have swim class,” she said. “In the deep end.”

Everything in me railed against it. It was one thing to stand in the pool on the shallow end, stick my head in the water, and blow bubbles. It was a whole other to actually run the risk of drowning.

I started to say no, but the jersey caught my eye. Seeing her wearing the name only she used to call me, not only telling everyone she was mine, but mine truly and wholly, was worth risking death.

“I’ll do it,” I said. “Arms up.”

“The hockey game’s not for hours,” she said.

“I want you wearing it all day. To your classes. To the café. So everyone already knows you’re mine, and you get used to declaring it to every fucker who walks by you and wants you.”

Her cheeks turned red, but she obediently lifted her arms, and I slid it over her. The second I saw it on her—it was huge, emphasizing her tits but nearly falling to her knees—my breathing got heavy and my cock got hard.

Mine.

Mine.

All fucking mine.

“Turn around, let me see the back,” I said, unsurprised by how husky my voice sounded, or how hard my heart pounded.

She turned. I traced the letters slowly, up and down and up and down the M, up, down, and across the A, and then across and across the X. I felt her spine curve when I hit the A, felt her shiver as I finished.

I love you, Max, she used to say, and god, I missed those four words so badly. But this, this would definitely do for now. All parts of me owned her, all parts of me belonged to her, and she’d acknowledged it—specifically so I’d let her help me be safer in the water in the future.

God, if there ever was a time to fuck her, it was when she was in my jersey, with Max across her back. But I had to leave for a team meeting in thirty minutes, and I knew I’d need more time than that.

Voice thick, I coaxed, “Bend over the bed, Angel.”

“Are you going to get me close and then leave me high and dry?” she asked.

“High and wet,” I acknowledged. “And don’t pretend you don’t love it.”

With a mischievous light in her eyes, she raised her chin.

“Make me.”

“Oh, Emma. You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Or you don’t think you can do it,” she countered, clearly feeling bratty.

“Mmmhmm,” I said, deciding to let her sweat while I got everything ready.

I’d ordered extension chain cuffs. The cuffs were lined with fur and the chains hooked under my bedframe and could stretch long enough that I could bind Emma basically anywhere in my bedroom. I’d also ordered a spreader bar and a custom dick gag that was shaped like my cock. I’d already installed the extension chains. She was so busy trying to taunt me, she didn’t pay attention to what I was doing, until I’d pulled them out from under the bed and approached her with the cuffs in my hand. When she noticed, she ran toward the door.

“You think you’re going to get far?”

“I think if I get to the hallway and yell, your roommates will help,” she retorted.