Page 183 of Wicked Fantasies

“I’m going to fuck your mouth, Faith. This isn’t gonna be a simple blowjob. You understand there’s a difference, right?”

She narrowed her eyes, angry that he felt the need to explain himself. It felt like he was asking permission, seeking her approval. She bared her teeth, let him feel them against his flesh. He growled—an honest to God growl—and then gave her exactly what she’d asked for. He gripped her face between his large palms, pulling her mouth down on his cock, pushing deeper with each entry, the entire time he alternated between praising her beautiful mouth and demanding that she suck harder, take more, swallow his head.

“Shit. I’m coming, Faith. God, baby. I’m coming.” The first splash painted the back of her throat as Troy continued to push her mouth on to his cock. She swallowed several times until his hands slackened and she heard his harsh breathing begin to slow. Looking up, she watched as he fell onto his back on the bed. She released him, loving the utter exhaustion and complete satiation on his face. Resting her head on his thigh, she felt no need to move right away.

Though her own arousal was still thumping, her body crying for satisfaction, she was happy to stay where she was, secure in the fact that she’d just rocked her husband’s world.

“Come here.” His voice was husky, deep.

She crawled up on the bed beside him, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly in his embrace as he placed soft kisses on the top of her head. “Jesus, Faith. I never expected—I didn’t know?—”

She raised her head and grinned. “Not too shabby for an old housewife, eh?”

“You aren’t old.”

She rolled her eyes, not surprised that was the only thing he heard.

“I wasn’t too rough? I didn’t hurt you?” His words brought to mind his memories of their first time and she wondered if he’d harbored his anxiety about harming her all these years. She’d never known, never suspected.

“You were hot,” she said. “Despite my fear of sounding like a complete pushover, I have to admit having you take control in bed turns me on a heck of a lot more than I would have suspected.”

He studied her face for a moment, his eyes serious, his mouth tight. “This could change things a bit.”

She looked at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

“Knowing that you like it, knowing you want it. Jesus, Faith. I want it too. More than you could ever know.”

“How come you never said anything? Never asked?”

He shrugged. “We’ve been married a damn long time. I sort of thought I knew what you liked in bed. I didn’t want to scare you off.”

“Troy. I think after all these years, it’s pretty safe to say there’s nothing you could do to chase me away.”

He rolled over, pulling her under his large frame. “Is that right?” His question was laced with just a touch of sensual menace and as quickly as that, her body jumped into overdrive, not forgetting that while he’d come, she had not.

“You know,” he said, “maybe you’re right. A little fear’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

She reached up to place her hands on his shoulders, but he stopped her, gripping her wrists firmly and pushing them into the mattress beside her head. “Leave your hands there. Don’t move them unless I give you permission to.”

She narrowed her eyes for a moment, wondering what he’d do if she disobeyed. He must have read her thoughts on her face. “I have no doubt you’re going to test my limits, Faith. All of them. But not yet. Let me show you exactly what we’ve been missing.”

She nodded, leaving her hands in place. He rose from the bed, standing above her. She was still in her jeans, a problem he made short work of. After he stripped off her clothes, she watched as he crossed the room to a small bag in the corner she hadn’t noticed before.

“What’s in there?”

He shook his head. “No questions.”

“Again?”

He chuckled. “You really suck at this game.”

She grinned, but her smile faded when she watched Troy pull a pair of handcuffs from the bag. “Oh,” she breathed.

He walked back to her, indicating with his finger that he wanted her to twist around and lay on the bed the proper way. She moved into the middle of the mattress and he bent over her, pulling her hands above her head once more. She lay still as he wove the chain on the cuffs around a slat on the headboard, then she heard the snick as he snapped the bracelet part around each of her wrists. Instinct drove her to tug on the metal. The cuffs were lined with some sort of soft leather, so her skin was protected.

“They’re secure,” he said, pointing out the obvious fact she’d just discerned for herself. She was definitely trapped. “You won’t get free until I decide to let you go.”

“And when will that be?”

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