“And who decides if you’re going to come?” “You.” Thrust. “Will you be a good girl for me?” “Yes.” Thrust. “Will you be a good wife for me too?” She pauses. “What? Lonan, I . . .” I don’t move. She clenches her jaw and grips my shoulders, trying to hold off her orgasm. “Come on, sweetheart—I’m done playing. Whose wife are you?”
