Page 48 of The Unwanted Wife

"It… It was?" I clear my throat.

He nods. "Nothing like a squirt to confirm you enjoyed everything I did to you." One side of his mouth curls. His hair sticks to his forehead, his blue eye is so dark it's almost brown, and his brown one has lightened until it could be almost blue. So that’s what it takes for his heterochromatic eyes to match—desire. That’s the key to get to this man. Offer yourself up to him. Let him use your body as he wishes. An instrument of his pleasure.

"Use me," I murmur.

"What?"

I slide my fingers through his hair and tug, and when his face almost touches mine, I lick the wetness off his mouth. "My body. Use it to satisfy your needs."

His gaze widens. "You don’t know what you’re saying."

"I know there’s a part of you that you want to keep hidden. A part you dare not bring to the fore. A part you don’t want to let loose because?—"

He tilts his head, a look of polite curiosity in his eyes. And damn him, but I hate that. I want to shock that distance from his gaze forever.

"—because I know you’re into BDSM." Umm, actually I don’t, but why not? He seems like a man who’d love that entire kinky side of sex. And I bet I’d enjoy it, too, as long as he's the one administering that kinkiness.

"BDSM?" he says slowly.

"Uh, yeah." I wriggle around, trying to find a more comfortable position. Considering I’m lying back in a pile of flour and droplets of various essences and food stuff I used in the cake batter, that’s no mean feat. "You know, bondage and discipline and sadomasochism."

"You forgot dominance and submission." In what seems to be an absentminded gesture, he cups my breast. Pinpricks of heat radiate out from his touch.

"S-submission?" I wish my voice didn’t shake. I wish my entire body didn’t feel so heavy. I wish I didn’t feel this lethargic.

"Do you want to submit to me, baby? Do you want me to show you how it can be when you give yourself up to me? Do you want to experience how it feels to have me direct you, to understand how it feels to please me. To allow me to find out what you like, what turns you on, to wring pleasure from your body such that you’ve never experienced before?"

"If it’s more like the orgasms you give me, then bring it on."

He barks out a laugh. "You surprise me, baby."

"And you… make me want more. You make me want to not be scared anymore. You make me want to live expansively. To reach for everything I thought was once out of reach."

Once more, his gaze is on my mouth. It’s almost as if he’s reading my lips. As if he likes to see my lips form the words as I speak. Then, he raises his gaze to mine, and once again, his mismatched eyes no longer resemble each other. Combined with his mussed-up hair, it gives him a crazed look, which I much prefer over that cold, stern mask he normally wears.

Then, he bends and rubs his nose up my cheek, and I whimper.

"The sounds you make drive me crazy," he whispers against my mouth. Something stabs me between my legs, and I become aware of how aroused he is. I begin to slide my hand between us, but he circles his fingers around my wrist. "Touch me now, and we’re never moving from here."

"I don’t mind that, though I confess, I’ve been more comfortable."

In response, he straightens, then pulls me to sitting position. He tucks my hair behind my ear and his touch is so tender, a lump of emotion forms in my throat. He tucks my boobs inside my bra, then tugs the edges of my dress over my chest.

"You didn’t come," I remind him.

"It’s more important you did."

I blink rapidly. "I’m not used to you being this nice."

He half smiles. "Don’t get used to it."

"A-n-d, you had to spoil everything by saying that, didn’t you?"

He raises his shoulder. "Wouldn’t be me if I didn’t show my true colors, hmm?"

"Which I’m beginning to think is not the growly, grumpy, I-hate-the-world mask you show the everyone."

His features sober. "I’m not a nice man."

---