Page 92 of The Proposal Pact
Callum:I can still taste you. I can still hear the little moans you made as I devoured your lips.
Callum:Wanna know a secret?
Callum:I want to know how you taste between your legs. I want it so bad, that’s all I can think about today.
Day 3
Callum:I can almost never see that blush on your face. But…I think I could get that ass of yours nice and red. Throbbing from my palm.
Callum:Don’t worry, I’d lick up every wound afterward.
Callum:After all, I take care of what’s mine.
Day 4
Callum:You know, they say the forbidden fruit always tastes the sweetest. I bet your pussy would be pure honey…dripping around my cock.
Day 5
Callum:Don’t let me see you in that pink set ever again. The way your nipples poked through the thin lace… Next time I see it, I’ll pull that thin strap of your thong so hard, it’ll snap right against your little pussy.
Callum:And then I’ll have to kiss it better…and we can’t have that.
Day 6
Callum:You keep joking about handcuffs, little menace.
Callum:But I do wonder if you’d like that? If I could slide those metal shackles around your delicate wrists and ankles, bruising them slightly because you’d try to get away. You’d try to run free but there’d be no running from me as I fucked your every hole and made you my good little wife.
Day 7
Callum:God, my wife is such a brat, that mouth of yours needs to be washed clean with my cum. Maybe then you’ll think before teasing me with it.
27
Sophie
“I wish I knew how to quit you.” – Brokeback Mountain
“Clover?”
“Mm-hmm?”
“You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?” his sleepy voice asks, tickling the back of my neck as the hand palming my boob squeezes me lightly.
“Sleeping wrapped around me like a koala.”
Silence. A moment later, he sighs. “Damn it.” He pulls away from me and runs out of the room before I could say anything else.
And so, day eight of my marriage begins the same way the six beforethis one have.
“Argh!” I send out a silent scream into the universe. Ever since that evening after the failed dinner at his parents’ house, I don’t recognize the guy living with me.
One moment he’s gifting me enough lingerie to last a year, acts all protective over me, and kisses me within an inch of my life, and the next I can barely get a few words out of him for the next week. He stays at work well past midnight for what I can only assume is to avoid my presence, yet every time he comes to bed, thinking I’m in deep slumber, he tucks my cold feet underneath his own before falling asleep himself.
He hasn’t missed a day of dirty texts, and at this point I wish he’d simply copy and paste them from Google because,Theè mou, he has the filthiest mouth I’d ever seen. The things he says to me, make my pussy throb with so much need, I usually run into the room as soon as the text comes through, and it takes very little on my part to reach the high of highs.
