Chapter 10

After the photo shoot, staggering home from Pete’s place through the blurring and wavering darkness took a million years. Once he’d shoved open the front door, Bobby stood and stared at me. While slipping past him, I said nothing. For his part, after stepping inside and closing the door, he opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to form words. Time slithered around us as the room wobbled in and out of focus. At last, the reek from his soaked crotch had me forcing a smile.

“You should, um, go take a shower, honey,” I said with a hoarse voice. From all the moaning, it hurt to even whisper.

With only a nod, he turned to go upstairs, dragging the carryon behind him. After he’d disappeared, I went into the kitchen. Though my pulse had slowed, I paced back and forth on the tile. Sharp heel clacks echoed. Glass after glass of water couldn’t cool me. My mind was filled with so many images.

Not only memories of the photo shoot.

But also, what had slashed into my brain while Pete was directing me. The tone of his voice. The words he’d used. What he’d called me. And my husband’s reaction, or lack thereof. Pete’s amazing gray pools. How they glittered whenever I could see them.

As well, the changes in Pete’s voice ... From suggesting to commanding. Then directing. And, as if I was his mower or any other tool, I’d obeyed. With him flinging me around that basement stage as if it was his lawn. Driving me up and down each row, turning me into his—model?

“No, a helluva lot more than a damned model,” I mumbled.

After a last gulp, I gave up. Once the empty glass had tumbled into the sink, I stared at my reflection in the dark window. Not that I’d needed much flinging. I’d done pretty well on my own. In the black glass, my eyes gleamed.

When the water stopped overhead, a long sigh escaped my shimmering lips. Once I’d rinsed the glass, I climbed the stairs, entering our dark bedroom just as Bobby eased beneath the sheets. As I passed, stripping off the dress, a smile appeared on his face.

My heart raced. With a flip of my hair, I slowed, letting him inspect me.

“God, you’re so beautiful, Lisa.” The hunger in his low voice sent shivers along my spine.

With teeth pressing into the corner of my lower lip, I threw out a hip and twirled for him. My own private audience. His breathing sped. And the sheets eased upward between his legs.

“You aren’t so bad yourself, babe,” I replied.

After a smile and a slide of my tongue around my lips, I pranced into the bathroom. Still in my stilettos, their sharp click-clacks on the tile resounded. With a smile at his glinting eyes, I tossed them out before easing the bathroom shut.

As I showered, the image of Bobby’s expression, right then in the dim lighting, warmed my heart. While teasing and playing was one thing, he was the man I loved. Warts and all. The gleam in his shining eyes. Not just then from the shadowed bed, but earlier in Pete’s dungeon/studio. Yeah, my husband loved me.

After stepping from the bathroom, air caught in my throat. Hands behind his head, Bobby was still wide awake, staring at the ceiling. As I slid under the covers, he remained still, except for the tented sheet over his crotch. That twitched. Even when I nudged into him, draping one long leg over his, and ran my fingers through his chest hair, he stayed silent. Only his breathing sped.

“Penny for your thoughts,” I whispered before lowering my mouth to the warm skin of his chest.

At my words, Bobby swallowed and rolled his head to look at me. “You’re just so damned beautiful. It hurts.”

“What’s hurting you, babe?”

“The way”—he flicked his tongue over his lips and his body froze beneath my fingertips—”you, um, moved. You really enjoyed that, didn’t you, Lisa?”

“I’m pretty sure you liked it as well.” With a smile, my hand slipped lower. At the skimming of my fingers along his throbbing stiffness, a low, winding moan slid from him

“I did.” Bobby nodded, but his voice cracked, and eyes widened when I ran a fingernail up the underside of his shaft. “But it wasn’t only how you moved. It was...” He gulped as I rolled my thumb over the spongy tip, smearing its leaking fluid into his hot flesh. “It was the way he told you what to do. And you did it, Lisa.” His pitch raised. “You did anything he said. Everything...”

After the abrupt silence, Bobby’s eyes narrowed. My chest tightened. At last, he’d just processed Pete’s change in tenor and the words he’d used. What he’d called me. Time slowed as our gazes remained locked, but at a gentle squeeze on his shaft, his shimmering green eyes widened. I let a smile slide onto my face.

“We could have left, babe.” After whispering, I sucked on his nipple, eliciting a groan. While looking into his fluttering eyes, I moved my fist along his rod. “At any time, you could’ve said something.”

After the moan, Bobby was quiet but for his panting. His breathing sped with each soft kiss as I curled downward.

“But ... But ... Oh, mmm.” His words faltered when I sent a puff of air across his swollen tip. “You were, umm, having so much fun.”

While struggling to stay in place, he yelped when I nipped at the spongy, taut knob. So much power I had right then while poking my husband’s slit with my tongue. As his fingers clawed at the hair on his head, a louder groan tore from him. That told me I could have anything I wanted. Pete’s gray eyes shined. The whole damned time, Bobby had understood. While he’d not wanted to admit it, he knew I’d follow Pete’s orders. And yet there was more.

“As were you, babe.” When my lips settled on his knob, his entire body tensed beneath me. At my gentle sucking, his legs shook. After lifting my mouth, I continued in a husky whisper. “Don’t forget that part, Bobby. You loved everything I did for him. Every last thing.”

If my husband had wanted to rebut, that died amidst the loud cry when I dove, engulfing him with my lips. And he kept crying out as I drove downward, taking him into my throat in one long motion. Once he was embedded, I stopped. My hand, shoved out of the way, cupped his rolling silken balls. With his breathing chaotic, Bobby’s entire body pulsed, unable to decide—freeze or arch into me.

As his squirming frame shifted, I twisted my lips at his pulsing root. After splaying wide on his gleaming torso, the fingernails of my other hand raked up towards his open lips. While lifting my head from his shaft, I pushed my fingers into his groaning mouth. How his eyes flickered at the gentle but forceful thrusting of my digits. His confusion intensified. Suckle or breathe faster.

Like playing a piano, my left hand toyed within Bobby’s lips, while my other fondled his balls. Between them I rose to suck in saliva-bubbly air, before diving with slower, twisting descents. No rush. With my eyes catching his through my dangling tresses, I took my time. Each slow drag and fondle of my hands tied to the languid swirling pull of my mouth drove more groans and harder twists from my husband’s shaking frame.

When we’d dated, I’d given him blowjobs. It was something I’d always enjoyed. Right up until he’d refused to reciprocate. But those earlier ones, a distant memory, were nothing like that night. That time, Bobby was not pressing in on my head. It wasn’t him controlling the action. At that moment, on the bed, in the sliver of light from the bathroom. After everything he’d watched. All that Pete had ordered, and I’d done. At that precise time, I owned my husband. Body and soul.

But just to be sure.

When Bobby’s wet, gasping breaths sputtered around my playful fingers and vibrations rippled through his body, I rose. Between his shaking legs, I waited with his swollen knob firm in my lips. Each long swirl of my tongue brought another whimper. He was so very close. Timing was everything.

There. That little tug on the slow-spinning globes in my palm.

After releasing his balls, I made a fist around his base while lifting from his boner. Bobby’s eyes went wide, then wider still, when I yanked my dripping fingers from his mouth. Even as a deepening groan built in the back of his throat, I pulled on his jaw until he could see me.

“You did enjoy it, didn’t you?” My fingers clenched tighter on his throbbing root. “You loved watching Pete order me to do things for him.”

Even as he struggled to speak, the dulling shimmer in my husband’s eyes and the collapse of his shoulders provided the answer. To both of us. When he nodded, I sighed and grinned.

“And I loved having you there, babe.” Still squeezing, I dragged my hand up his spit-lubed shaft. “Watching everything. All the things I did.”

As much as he wanted my mouth to return to his cock, I leaned to plant a kiss on his tight, roiling stomach. All Bobby could do was stare, flicking his eyes between my face and his pulsating shaft. With gasps sliding from him, matching every suckle along his skin, I kept my focus on Bobby, waiting.

“I love you, Lisa.”

Go time.

No sooner had the words left him than I pulled from his salty skin, turned and dove all the way down his shaft. Once I tapped his root with my distended lips, I flew upwards. As I throated my husband, I rammed my fingers back into his groaning mouth, muffling his hitching cries. It wasn’t long before the first spasm pulsated up his rod. After sinking my face deep into his tickling pubes, I shifted, letting him pump jet after lengthy warm jet into my stomach.

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