"Are you wet enough?" He questions with hooded eyes.
I nod curtly. "Only the sound of your voice and my pussy jumps in excitement."
"Good. Turn around." He orders as both hands grip my waist, flipping me around before I can argue. "Sit on it and go...
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There's been a lot of changes. Changes that I do not desire. My wife. . .she's something; something that'd ruin me if I'm not careful enough.
I've done everything humanly possible to keep my distance from her, still there's no running away from her. She's my shadow and I can no longer deny the fact.
But like I said, I'm not a fool.
And eyes don't lie.
I know and I see it in Mirabella's eyes that she's tired. Tired of keeping up her act, tired of the lies and everything in between. She wants to open up to me but she seems scared of what my reaction might be. Nonetheless, I wanted her to come to me. I want her to come to me.
I must be a fool, expecting that she'd come clean to me. But no, my wife decides that the only way out of her devious ways is to seduce me.
Like I said, Marcelo and everything related to him are one in the same. Fucking lying, deceitful piece of shits.
Instead of telling the truth, she decides to let me touch her in very unholy ways.
And for what?
Do I really look like a man who'd be swayed by pussy?
Fuck her for thinking so little of me.
But really, I want to fuck her in every way possible. Ruin her body, punish her in a different kind of way.
Only it's just what I want, not what I need. And if it's not a need, then it's not as important.
I've done enough damage to Mirabella already and I can't just bring myself to fuck her when I know that I'm about to serve her divorce papers.
I'm sat at the dining table with my mother and sister, waiting for Mirabella to join us before we commence dinner. I'd told her earlier today that I'm giving her an opportunity to earn my respect and tonight is the only chance she has to earn that respect.
My next line of action solely depends on what choice she decides to make tonight.
Please Mirabella, just prove me wrong.
I want to be wrong about you.
"Fuck," I mumble as I watch her walk down the flight of stairs in an extremely breathtaking dress.
I'm definitely getting her a full closet of that dress she has on. It suits her perfectly.
And her demure makes it impossible not to think dirty thoughts about her.
Fuck, my pant has suddenly become two times too small.
I watch her intently as she kisses my mom and sister on the cheeks before pulling out a seat and sitting beside me.
"You're breathtaking," I lean down and whisper in her ear, gaining a snorted laugh from her. My eyebrows furrow. Does she not believe me? Does she not think herself beautiful?
