Page 52 of Coercion

I groan into her mouth. I know I should stop this. I know I should stop all of this, but I’ve spent the last I don’t know how long, smelling her perfume, staring at her in that tight little dress, all the while imagining how it would feel to get just one taste. Just one moment.

“Preston.” She murmurs.

Her hands start undoing my belt. My dick is already so hard it hurts.

I can’t fuck her. I cannot fuck her.

But I’m not stopping this either. Right now, I’m just sat here, letting her reach down and take hold of me. I guess, technically, this isn’t breaking the rules right, she’s touching me, not the other way around. We never made any agreements about that, did we?

And then she freezes when she realises exactly what I’ve been hiding.

“You’re…”

“It’s called a Jacobs ladder.” I say.

She blinks, staring at my cock with a look that seems half-awe, half-fascination. “Did it, did it hurt?”

Yeah, it fucking killed. And add the fact you can’t have sex for months after. But the way women react, the way they come on my cock, it makes it all worth it.

I stare back at her, imagining what she’d feel like to be wrapped around me. How good her cunt would fill as she came just for me.

She’s off limits. She’s un-fucking-touchable.

She wraps her hand around me, carefully placing her fingers so she doesn’t grip right on the piercings and slowly she brings it up.

“Fuck.” I hiss.

Maybe I’m a masochist.

Maybe I’m a complete fucking idiot but right now I’d happily let Nico gut me for just a second of her. Just a taste.

She lowers her mouth, kissing me again, only this time I’m not letting her tease me the way she did before. I wrap my hand around the back of her head, taking control, possessing her mouth the way she’s possessing my cock.

She moans against me. A real moan. A sexy little noise that I know from our wedding night she hasn’t just faked.

That noise seems to drive me over the edge.

I can’t stop now. I won’t stop.

I don’t give a fuck about the consequences.

I grind my hips, accentuating every movement she’s making. She’s teasing my cock like she knows exactly what I want. And then she takes my hand, sliding it under her dress and into her underwear.

“Make me come.” She says. “Make me come the way you have all the women before me.”

I growl, opening my eyes, grabbing her jaw tightly with my spare hand. “You are nothing like them.” I say. “You are so muchmore. You are my wife. I married you.” But I can feel how wet she is. Christ, she actually wants this, she actually wants me to touch her.

I push her back, taking control as she relinquishes her grip on me. “You really want this?” I ask.

She nods, hiking her dress up so the only thing separating me from the best view of my life is the tiny strip of red lace I bought her.

“Please, Preston.” She whispers.

My lips curl at the way she says it. At the sweet way my wife is begging me.

“My wife wants to come.” I say, pulling her underwear aside, staring at her glistening pussy that’s bared just for me. She’s so pink, so plump, god I can just imagine how she’d welcome my dick home. “Fuck.”

She nods, encouraging me on. “Please.”

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