Page 191 of Hateful Games

“You won’t be comparing notes. Period,” he answers in his flat tone. “Wanna know why?”

“Since you gave me an orgasm, I’ll indulge you.” I smirk and ask, “Why?”

“Because I own your pussy now.”

“Just because you licked it once, it doesn’t become yours.”

“No. The wedding papers you signed makes it mine.” Crossing the gap once more, he warns and promises in one breath, “It means every inch of you belongs to me. Your lips. Your cunt. Your ass. Your very fucking breath is mine to control. So don’t you dare touch your pussy unless I allow it.”

“In your dreams, you bastard.”

He smirks in glee and turns around and throws over his shoulder, “You might want to change that dress. There’s a rip in the skirt.”

I look down and find a big gaping hole in the lace of my dress. When the fuck did he do that?

The time you were riding his tongue like a high-priced jockey.

He’s so going to pay for this.

Chapter Forty-nine

Nova

When Rosalie returns downstairs, she’s in an even bolder dress. I almost choke on air as my eyes become stuck on the deep neckline. It dips so low, ending just above her belly piercing that I can only imagine what the back looks like. Her perky tits make my mouth—with the taste of her still lingering—water.

I discreetly adjust my dick when she approaches.

“I’m ready, hubby.”

“What are you wearing?”

Oh, did I mention her dress is creating the illusion of her being naked?

“Versace.” Twirling, she gives me her back. Her bare back. Flicking her hair over her shoulder, she cocks her hip and seductively purrs, “Do you not like it?”

She’s trying to kill my poor dick.

“You’re practically naked, Rose.”

“Good to know your eyes work,” she retorts, facing me. “I saved you a yearly trip to the doctor.”

Rubbing at my temple, I grumble, “I don’t understand women’s fashion.”

“Just say you don’t know women.”

“Oh, I know about women where it counts, my wife.” I cross the distance and yank her closer. Dipping my head, I rasp in her ear, “Want me to eat your sweet pussy again?”

She shivers and pushes away, giving me her sternest glare.

I hide my smile. But it drops when a sudden thought strikes. Pulling out my phone, I quickly open the camera and snap Rosa’s picture with the flash on. Ignoring her confused frown, I zoom in on the image to see if I can make out her bare skin.

No one but me is allowed to see every beautiful inch of her.

“What the hell are you doing?” she inquires, her tone highly suspicious.

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying.”

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