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“If a wife cannot speak ill of her husband, then what joys are there left for her in marriage?”
“That’s right, sweetheart. You’re going to be so good for us. And what do good girls get?” In one quick move, he rose, plucked me from Malyr’s lap, and draped me over his arms. “They get rewarded.”
stretch and strain against the grip
“Such a fucking good girl,”
“It is not your balance that concerns me.” Arm once more slung around my belly, he pulled me tighter against him before he whispered by my ear, “The longer you make me look at you, little dove, the harder it is for me to remember what you are. And I fear that, if I look too long… I just might forget who you are."
“Take this off,” he rasped by my ear as his other hand lifted my shift. “Don’t make me wait because my patience for the moment you finally come to me started wearing thin long ago.”
“I should redden your hide for making me desire you the way I do. For robbing my sleep. For making my cock twitch, overly eager to
come like a fucking untried youth.” Whack. Another slap to my cunt as his fingers tightened on my throat. “Apologize.” I sucked in a little gasp of air, struggling the words through my trachea. “I’m… sorry.”
“Eyes on me, Galantia. Don’t you dare fucking move those hazel eyes from mine when I make you come on my cock while my shadows feast on your cunt.”
What would it feel like to be loved with such intensity? Such unequivocal fortitude, not even death could impose conditions?
