Page 100 of Keeping Ruby

I laugh, but it’s a tight, barely restrained thing.

“I find that hard to believe.” I release the strap, and she falls gently back to the chaise. But her breasts heave as I run my knuckles over the swell to graze slowly over one sharply pebbled nipple, and then the other.

The glossy, blush-pink of her thumbnail sliding over the little remote of her vibrator catches my eye as she says huskily, “I’m trying to bring my husband back to me.” She presses a button, and the humming grows louder. Her eyes snap wide and her parted lips form an O that I want desperately to shove my cock into.

Her hips rock as the vibrator brings her closer to her orgasm, the soft heels of her stocking-covered feet sliding over the fabric of the chaise as she writhes.

“I could watch you like this forever,” I grit, my fingers tracing the straps that crisscross her belly as I travel agonizingly slowly south. “So, fucking beautiful.”

She blinks slowly up at me, the innocence in those golden eyes a sharp contrast to the sinful words that drip from her lips. “Does that mean you’ll fuck me?”

“I’ve been fucking you,” I lie. We both know it’s a lie, but her bitter laugh confirms I haven’t been fooling her.

“You’ve been holding back.” She presses the button again. This time, she lets out a little scream. Her hand moves to turn the toy down, but mine moves to snatch it from her. You started this game, little wife.

“I don’t think so.” I inspect the toy, before I turn it up again.

“Kirill,” she gasps, her delectable body bucking. She screams. “Ah!”

“That’s right, beautiful wife. Squirm for me.” And she does. Her hips wriggle, feet sliding up and down, her hands plucking at the straps that cover her belly before drifting upward to her breasts, full, and lovely, and creamy white against the red.

She gasps, “Please.”

“Please, what, wife?” I taunt, feeling myself edging closer to the man I was before I nearly lost her.

“Please make me—Oh, God, yes—” I turn it down and she wails. “No! Kirill, no. Please.”

I watch as the orgasm she’d had between her fingertips, flutters away like a butterfly on the wind. Her body writhes as she chases it, hungry—desperate for it. So beautiful. So pure and raw and mine.

Unable to hold back now, I grip her hips and flip her over the chaise. Her hands fly out to catch herself against the raised back as I pull her hips back to me even as I shove my hand between her legs, feeling the vibration hum from her pussy into my hand. I know instantly what kind of toy she has. It’s one of those leaf-like clitoral stimulators that is attached to a bullet-like vibrator by a bendable band. She’s getting double the attention to her obviously hungry pussy, and I feel wild with the urge to fuck her raw and hard. Brutal and unforgiving.

I grind my palm into the leaf at her clit, and revel in the panting moans that fall from her lips as she throws her head back, crying out for more.

“Fuck, wife.” My voice is spilled gravel. “You’re soaked through.”

She’s so sexy.

“There’s not much,” she pants, stuttering. “To soak—oh—through.”

She’s right. And I’m delightfully surprised to discover the slit in the panties she wears, giving me access to her hot pussy. I slide my hand through the wet of her, plunging a finger into her pussy alongside the little vibrator that pulses.

She whimpers a hungry little sound as she rides my finger. When I feel her orgasm cresting again, I pull from her and again turn the vibration down. She pushes off the chaise, with a frustrated growl that has a grin splitting my face.

I don’t let her take over as I shove my hand into her back between her shoulder blades, pushing down until she’s leaning over the chaise again.

“Oh, no, you don’t, wife.” I push my hand between her legs again, gripping her roughly by the hip to hold her in place. She’s pissed now, her body desperate to come. “You started this game. I’m going to finish it.”

“Then finish it!” she bites out, fingers curling into the fabric as her hips roll against my touch. I turn the vibrator up again and she cries out softly, desperately. “Please.”

“I love when you beg.” I slide my finger through the wet of her cunt, over the leaf, the band, her hole, before continuing to her ass. Covered in her juices, my fingers slide easily through the crease of her, ready to tease her, but I stop abruptly at the feel of something unexpected. Something hard and warm and not my wife.

Her hitched breath is strangled as she holds herself, bracing her body against the chaise. She knows what I’ve discovered, but my brain is still short-circuiting. I’m playing catchup. Behind my zipper, my dick strains toward her. I am hungry in a way I’m not sure I’ve ever been before.

I want to wreck and ruin her for all other men, even though I am more than aware there will never be another man inside her, but me. I’ll kill any man who dares.

“What is this?” I wait for her to answer for all of three heavy seconds, before my hands grip the sides of the lace that covers her ass. Thin fabric tears. Silence beats like a drum as I grip her full ass in my hands, spreading her. Breath rushes from me. I groan deep and low. “Fuck me.”

A ruby diamond in the shape of a heart catches my eye, and my dick throbs heavily, cum leaking from the tip as I take in the sight of my innocent wife’s plugged ass.

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