Page 89 of Tormenting Me

Feeling a surge of desire, I reach down and grip her throat, pulling her closer to me. “Looks like I’ll have to tie you up then, won’t I?” I whisper seductively. Leaving her momentarily, I make my way to the nightstand drawer to retrieve some rope.

Birthday sex, some rope play and cake, Wessy, you are one lucky motherfucker.

Hands tied to our headboard, face down and ass up with rope around her thighs, keeping her spread open for me. My cock’s screaming at me for release. Ma Petite Mort is a fucking dream, a wet dream in the best possible way. I lean forward and kiss her bare ass cheek, and she wriggles in her bindings. “I’ll be right back, baby.”

“Wes…” Layne calls out to me as I cross the loft and into the kitchen, opening the fridge to grab the strawberries and cream cake Layne baked for me. I set the plate on the counter, taking a knife from the block and cutting a thick slice. My mouth waters as I pick it up and carry it back to the bed and Layne.

Climbing back onto the bed, I take the slice of cake and spread it all over Layne’s ass and pussy. Strawberry slices and whipped frosting cover my wife’s perfectly round ass. As I admire the tempting sight before me, I can’t resist the urge any longer. The combination of sweet strawberries and creamy frosting creates a delicious contrast against Layne’s smooth skin.

“Fuck me, Layne.” I groan. With a mischievous grin, I lean in and trace my tongue along the sugary goodness, savoring the tantalizing flavors. My face covered in frosting from licking up one of her cheeks, my tongue dives, gliding over her back hole. Layne tenses, then her moans of pleasure fill the loft as I devour her. The rings on the headboard rattle as Layne pulls at them. “Does my dirty girl like the way I eat her ass?

“Fuck, oh fuck. Yes... yes,” she gasps in pleasure as my tongue explores every inch of her, savoring the taste of the frosting that coats her pussy.

“Do not come yet, Ma Petite Mort. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she whines. The combination of the cake’s sweetness and Layne’s intoxicating arousal is a sensory overload, making me fucking feral. I have to be inside her, but I know better than to fuck her covered in cake. Layne would kill me if I ruined another comforter.

I’m pretty sure this is the fourth one she’s had to buy.

I hop off the bed and head to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth from the towel rack and running it under the water.

“Wes, what the fuck?” She pants, staring at me as I walk back into the room. The cool water on the cloth makes her skin break out in goosebumps as I clean her up. Once finished, I chuck it to the floor. I position myself between her spread thighs, my hands roaming over her bound body, exploring every inch. The ropes that hold her captive only intensify the pleasure, as they serve as a constant reminder of the control I have over her.

Unable to resist any longer, I thrust into her, feeling the tightness and warmth of her pussy enveloping me. With every thrust, the incredible sensation overwhelms me, and I can feel the pleasure building within me. Layne’s moans grow louder, her body writhing beneath me in ecstasy. “That’s it baby, now you can come for me.”

As my release builds, I lose myself in the moment, consumed by the pleasure and desire that courses through my veins. The taste of Layne, strawberries and cream lingers on my lips, heightening the experience. The combination of physical pleasure and sensory indulgence creates a state of pure bliss, bringing us both closer to the edge.

The intensity becomes almost unbearable. Layne buries her face in my pillow as she screams through her orgasm, her walls clenching around me. Our bodies move in perfect harmony, reaching the pinnacle of pleasure together. I roar as my orgasm hit. Ropes of warm cum hit her cervix as I thrust hard and deep. I stay put for a few moments before pulling out, giving this a shot. Because how fucking wild would it be getting her pregnant on my birthday?

Untying her wrists and thighs, I flop down next to her and pull her into my chest. “We need to shower before going to sleep, Wes. I’m all sticky.”

“Mmm,” I mumble, my eyes already heavy and my body pulling me towards sleep. Layne chuckles, then kisses my lips.

“Happy birthday, Buainteoir. Here is to many, many more.”

Chapter fifty-six

Layne

Three Months Later

The pregnancy test sits on the counter flipped over so I can’t obsess over whether there are lines forming on it. Three agonizing minutes. This test is only confirming what I already know. I’m late, like two weeks late. So unless there is something wrong with me, I am definitely pregnant. The minutes seem to take forever to pass. My phone pings in my lap. The group text with Atlas and Wes comes up.

I sent a clip of me modeling my new bathing suit, that I’ll be wearing at the beach today with Atlas and Sky. Wes has to work today, even though it’s a Saturday. Some big things are happening with his case and it’s about to get “crazy” as he said the other night.

Atlas: That suit looks fire on you!

Wes: Change. Now.

Layne: Make me.

Wes: Make you what? A mom? Because baby if you leave the house in that, I am gonna leave work and fuck you right there on the beach.

Layne: Leaving now.

Atlas: Bitches! This is a G-R-O-U-P C-H-A-T. YA NASTIES!

I burst into laughter as the timer on the phone beeps, filling the room with its sound. With a sense of anticipation, I flip the test over and I’m greeted by two vivid, dark pink lines. I let out a long, drawn out breath. Wes and I are having another baby. The baby we lost has been ever present in my mind, but I won’t let that devastating loss overshadow this moment.

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