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Because the only thing more painful than the company of a disappointing man is chafing.
His arm tightens again as he grunts, “Heavy.” This bastard. I’m still terrified, but his shitty comment is enough to spur me out of this frozen state. I claw at the hand over my mouth. My filed short nails barely even scratch his skin. “Knock that off.” He gives me a little shake. “I like ’em heavy.”
Life is way more fun when you just let yourself feel and don’t bother with psychoanalyzing every moment to death.
Savannah’s hands, which had been fidgeting in her lap, get shoved back between her thighs. Her thick, jiggly thighs that I want to take a fucking nap on.
“I’ll let you stay in here by yourself tonight, but starting tomorrow, you will be sleeping at my side.” Savannah slowly crosses her arms, putting a barrier between us. “Why? What’s happening tomorrow?” I grin. “We’re getting married.” Her mouth drops open. But before she can respond, I slam and lock the door.
“I won’t force myself inside you, Savannah Baby. But I am dying to come all over those pretty tits, so don’t fucking tempt me.”
“But if you ever look at my wife like that again, I’ll remove your eyeballs from your skull.” He pauses. “Understand?”
Because I’ve always wanted to call someone Baby. Because your pretty eyes call to something inside me. Because you fucking belong to me, and I’ll call you whatever the hell I want.
“I’m gonna keep coming inside you. So if you don’t want a herd of kids just yet, you better find some birth control.”
“Honey.” He cups my chin, keeping my eyes on his. “I’ll tell everyone about your art because I’m fucking proud of you.”
