Page 40

"Spread your legs."

Again, she did as she was told. The sweet scent of her musk made me lose focus for a precious few seconds. My dick pressed against my pants, definitely leaving a dollop of precum on the sheets. I told the fucker to shut it. It wasn't on tonight. Removing my finger from her mouth with a pop, I trailed it down her body. Keeping hold of her wrists, I spread Rosalind's legs obscenely wider with my knees. I wasn't a gentleman, but I planned to be as gentle as this called for.

My finger was thick as it parted her pussy lips. My dick was thicker, but a finger was all she was getting tonight. Maybe two. She gasped as I sank it in to the knuckle. There was the same tightness I remembered from the other night. If she could barely handle one finger, how could she ever handle all of me?

She was wet, and getting wetter. So she did want me. That wasn't manipulation, at least.

It made me eager, and I slid a second finger. The fit remained tight, but her body made space. Her channel clenched hungrily around me. Not in an orgasm. Not yet. I crooked my fingers and found her G-spot.

Rosalind gasped again. She tried to rock her hips, but my knees didn't give her much space to move. With her hands still stretched helplessly over her head, she couldn't do much but lie there and take what I gave her.

She began making mewls like a cat while my fingers stroked her sweet, tight pussy. I worked my fingers against the thatch of nerves inside her walls, making her breath catch, watching every reaction cross her face. Her lips parted. Her brow furrowed. Those ruined eyes flashed gold again. Her hips tried to rise. I pressed them back down with my weight.

"No."

Rosalind's eyes snapped to mine. Petulant fury intertwined with gold sparks.

"Did I tell you to move?"

She took a deep breath, her body undulating until a dark-tipped breast peeked out of the robe. I ignored the morsel. Rosalind's mouth twitched into that fucking smile. She thought she had the upper hand. I slowed my fingers. The smile disappeared.

"Why did you stop?" she demanded.

"You moved."

I waited. We were not going to have another repeat of our wedding night. She would learn to listen. She would learn to heel.

Her thighs strained against mine. Her fingers curled above her head. I felt the exact moment she wanted to move because her entire body tightened beneath me. But she stayed still.

"Good girl."

Her pussy clenched around my fingers.

"You like that."

"Fuck you."

"What am I going to do with that dirty mouth."

"You could put your cock in it."

Said cock made its opinion on that matter very clear as more precum made a mark inside my pants. My wife was spread beneath me, wrists trapped in one of my hands, legs held open by my body, and somehow she still thought she was winning an argument.

Rosalind wanted the fight. She wanted me to give an order so she could break it. Wanted to push until I pushed back harder.

My little wife had found herself a game. Unfortunately for her, she had chosen to play it with a man who held all the cards: her labia, her clit, and her G-spot. She was going to lose… and she was going to like it.

I curled my fingers again.

Rosalind's smart mouth fell open.

"Still have something to say?"

"Plenty."

Two fingers pressed harder. Not going any deeper. I knew I was exactly where that tight bundle of nerves rested inside her. It was true that size mattered less than knowing what to do once you were inside a woman's pussy.

Rosalind's response was a broken gasp. Her body jackknifed off the mattress. Well, it tried to. She didn't get far.