Page 48 of Hunted By Valentine

“I accept your terms,Ruby,” he says, his voice deliciously low and dark.

The sight of him holding my intimate garment sends a jolt of electricity through my body, the intensity of the moment nearly overwhelming. I feel a twisted sense of satisfaction knowing that I’ve pleased him, that I’ve given him a piece of myself that no one else can have.

“Such a good pet,” he croons. I part my lips to say something, but whatever I wanted to say stays lodged in my throat as his tongue darts out and he licks the crotch area of my panties. “Mhmm, you’re aroused.”

It’s not a question, but I still nod.

I don’t know why it’s so hard to find my words when I’m around Valentine. Or maybe that’s not the right way to describe it since I have plenty I want to say. I just… don’t. With him, I let my actions speak louder than my voice ever could.

The moment is shattered as Carolina calls our names, sounding like she’s close. Valentine quickly shoves my panties into his pocket. “This is our secret.” He shoots me a wink, which is so out of character for him I just blink. “Say it,” he demands.

“It’s our secret,” I reply, not sure why he even felt the need to say it. It’s not like I’ve told anyone about anything we’ve done. As he moves to the door, I still add, “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

Where I head straight to Carolina, following her voice, I suspect Valentine purposefully took a detour when he joins us a few minutes later. Luckily for me, my sister-in-law is too busy explaining why she needs to suddenly leave to question where we’ve been or why we left.

“Umm… did Nick say anything else?” I probe, needing to know if he mentioned my text.

“Nope,” she replies.

Feeling at the end of my ropes, like I need some time alone, I make a point of leaving with her, getting into the black car that’s, as always, waiting for me. I don’t look at Valentine or offer him more than a courteous goodbye.

During the drive home, I do my best to get my head on straight. Shaking all thoughts about Valentine, his tattoo, and what it all means away. Then I mentally slip back into the role as Michael’s wife—a role that’s becoming harder and harder to fulfill lately.

While I’ve never been happy with Michael, there have been times where I’ve been content—no, that’s too generous. Let’s just say there have been times where I wasn’t outright unhappy.

But now I can’t stop comparing him to Valentine in every possible way, and no matter how I look at it, my husband comes up short. Each day he becomes more and more revolting to me.

I arrive home, my body still buzzing from my encounter with Valentine. I push open the door, my heart sinking as I see Michael sitting on the couch, his eyes dark and brooding. “Where have you been?” he growls, his voice laced with anger.

“Out with Carolina. We were looking at venues for the charity.” I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady.

He eyes me suspiciously, his gaze traveling down my body. “Dressed like that?” he asks, his voice filled with disgust.

“You picked it out,” I retort. Instead of saying all the things I want to, I press my lips together, determined not to antagonize him when he looks like that.

Michael stands up, wobbling slightly. That’s when I notice the almost empty bottle of whiskey on the table. Shit, he’s drunk. “I want you,” he says, his voice filled with menace.

I take a step back, my body trembling with fear. “I-I’m tired.” I try to sound convincing, but I know it’s futile.

Michael’s eyes narrow as he steps closer, his hand reaching out to grab my arm. “I don’t care.”

I flinch at his touch, my mind racing as I try to come up with a plan to avoid him touching me since I don’t want him knowing I’m not wearing panties.

Sure, it would be all too easy to tell him I’m doing what he asked; giving my body to Valentine. But my entire being balks at the thought of sharing that with him. What I do with Valentine is forme;becauseIwant to.

Since Michael hasn’t brought it up again or asked for an update, which he’s done the other times, I’ve assumed he’s forgotten about it. Which is all the more reason not to bring it up again.

“Please,” I whisper, my voice filled with desperation. “Let me make you feel good. As your wife, that’s my duty.”

His eyes darken as he looks down at me, his grip tightening. “How?”

I take a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest. “I want to suck you off,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes widen in surprise before a cruel smile spreads across his face. “On your knees.”

Doing as he says, I drop to my knees, my hands shaking as I reach for his belt. I try to focus on the task at hand, knowing that this is the only way to protect what I have with Valentine.

As I pull down his pants, I can’t help but think of Valentine. How different it is when I’m with him. How much I want him, need him. Pushing the thoughts aside, I focus on Michael. I take him in my mouth, my movements slow and deliberate.

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