Series: Lee Savino
Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 66414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 332(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“It’s okay.” I put a hand on his knee. “I’m glad you helped me.”
“I saw your New Year’s resolution list. It fell out of the journal.”
I think of my bulleted list. Glow up, go on a date… “Oh. Did you read it?”
“Yes.”
A hot rush of embarrassment closes my throat. I rub it, wishing I could wipe the flush away. My fingers touch the diamond necklace, and I play with one of the jewels until I can speak. “So when I asked you on a date…is that why you said yes? To help me?” I’m afraid to ask the real question. Was it a pity date?
“No.” His voice deepens. “Maisy, look at me.”
I shake my head a little. I can’t. I don’t dare to, in case he looks sorry for me.
With a growl he grabs my hand and places it right on his crotch. “Do you feel this?”
My mouth parts in shock. I’m in a gown, he’s in a tux, and here he is in the theater, pushing his hard cock into my hand.
“This isn’t me helping you,” he bites out like he’s angry, but I know he’s not. Or if he is, he’s not angry at me. “This is pure homegrown lust. That's what I feel for you.”
I nod, still not able to look at him. He turns to me and pulls me against his chest, so I can hide my hot face against him.
“We’re going to work on this,” he murmurs, a warrior, picking up a sword to slay my inner demons. “There’s no reason for you to think badly of yourself.”
“Okay,” I whisper. If Matthias wants to be my champion, willing to fight my own insecurities, I’m all for it. Sometimes I need a little help. “Thank you.”
“No more negative self-talk, beautiful. I won’t allow it.”
Yes, daddy. I bite my lip.
In the theater, a few acrobat dancers make their way into the aisles with a little pre-show to entertain us. The main event is going to start soon.
Matthias releases me, so I can compose myself. Once I wipe the wetness from my eyes, he takes my hand and squeezes it. I can feel him wanting to ask if I’m okay, so I whisper to him, “Where do zombies like to go swimming?”
“The Dead Sea,” he whispers back.
I figure that’s the end of it, but even when the first act starts, I can feel him watching me.
The show is incredible. I can’t tear my eyes away from the synchronized swimming, the contortionists, or the acrobats performing high above the pool, but my nerves are afire, aware of my husband beside me. He’s almost vibrating with energy. All his muscles are tense like he’s containing the force of his lust.
Halfway through the first act, he slides his hand onto my satin-covered knee. “Spread your legs, little wife.”
My pussy throbs, anticipating his touch. I lean back a little, and push my knees apart.
“My good, obedient girl. Keep watching the show.”
I fix my eyes on the stage, but my gaze goes hazy as he lifts my skirt and finds a way underneath. At first he’s just stroking my knee, then upper thigh, but at a climatic part of the show, when the acrobats are bouncing on a trampoline that sends them thirty feet into the air before they flip into the water, his fingers edge close to my pussy.
My gasp is swallowed by the oohs and ahhs of the crowd.
He brushes my folds and makes a noise when he feels how wet I am.
I get a little reprieve at intermission. He sits back and pulls my dress down. “Do you want anything to eat or drink?”
I shake my head.
“We’re having dinner after this, but I wanted something sweet.” He licks his fingers.
I duck my head, and he growls, “Don’t hide from me. Let me see those blushes. beautiful, I'm obsessed with you.”
I rub my arm, mumbling, “I need to lose some weight.”
“Absolutely not. I forbid it. I want all of this.” He places his huge hand on the swell of my belly. “Soft belly, soft thighs. I’m going to make sure you eat well. Cook for you every night. You're going to eat lots of fruits and vegetables, plus lots of protein and healthy fats. Omega-3s.”
“What about my Omega 69s?” I bat my eyelashes at him.
“Can’t forget those.” He grins. “I’ll give you lots of treats. But I know which one will be your favorite.”
I glance down at the bulge in his tuxedo pants.
“That’s right, beautiful. I eat pineapple regularly.”
I perk up at that. “I read that can change the taste of semen. It makes it sweet.”
“I'm gonna make sure I taste good for you because you love sucking my cock. Don't you?” Oh, it gets me hot when he slips right into dirty talk in the middle of an ordinary conversation.
I say yes, sir even though it’s muffled by the finger in my mouth.