For my birthday he tied a ribbon round my eyes and plunged the world into darkness. He promised me a gift of satisfaction. A satisfaction that he cannot provide.
I love my husband, but I won’t say our life is perfect. He’s a good and doting partner yet when it comes to what happens between the sheets both of us know that he’s not enough for me.
He led me into a room and told me to kiss him but those lips, they don’t belong to him. The hands on my body are too strong to be his. The force of his touch, I recognize it. I know precisely who is taking me to bed tonight.
He’s an old friend who is anything but friendly. He’s a man who is dominant and who takes what he wants. He’s a man who never failed to satisfy me even if his demands pushed me to the very edge of what I thought I could take.
He’s almost an enemy, and yet my husband threw me to him once more. My husband wants me to be satisfied, but he never asked at what cost.
Because there is a reason I cut this man off all those years ago. There is a reason I chose my husband instead of my strong and dominant lover. There is a reason why my body trembles when I feel this man start to make his demands all over again.
My husband is about to find out the cruel truth, that his pretty little wife isn’t quite as sweet as she pretends to be.
Excerpt
I want my fantasy. I want an excuse to let go. I want one moment where I don’t have to worry about every last thing and make sure that I’m presenting the absolute perfect and flawless aura because I know, I just know, that the slightest slip up will look like weakness.
I want someone to dictate and for me to follow, because it’s the one thing I can’t do when I’m out in public.
I believed, tonight, that there was another person in my bedroom because I didn’t want to have to fuck my husband tonight. I wanted one of my old lovers, someone who could have and consume me and who could make me bend beneath their will. I wanted to relinquish control because that would be the best birthday present I could ask for.
So my creative mind built a scenario where that was going to happen, while my logical mind railed against it knowing that it would never be the case.
Now that I knew, that I understood the why, I had to see whether the illusion would break. But as Rob stopped me in the middle of the room and it persisted I had to wonder why once more. Because my mind had crafted an illusion that felt real, so real that I could almost hear this other person breathing in front of me. So real that as Rob stepped away I heard his footsteps depart and knew he had walked around something directly in front of me.
My fingers itched, begging to reach up and confirm my illusion as real. My body held them back, holding on to the hope that if I played along in this fortunate game that maybe I could maintain the illusion for just a little bit longer.
“What happens next?” I asked, my voice so nervous as I waited for his answer.
His words came from far away, “Kiss me.”
But the moment I purse my lips, he kisses them so quick. He presses into me so fast that it takes me by surprise and my mind races, wondering how he closed the gap so quickly. And wondering where this man came from.
His kiss is strong, forceful, and unlike anything I’ve felt in such a long time. His hands move to me, rushing hard and eager. They find my hips and they pull me forward into him, crushing my body against his and nearly pressing the breath out of my lungs and I gasp from the feel of it only to feel his tongue seize the opportunity to dive in.
There is something about the way he kisses me, about the way he touches me. It is masked at first by the fact that I’m expecting Rob and eludes me for a few moments as I realize why it’s so familiar and yet so distant. It is due to the fact that I haven’t been kissed like this in a long time, but when I open my mind to the breadth and depth of my history it becomes only too clear what is happening here.
It becomes only too clear who is kissing me. And that man is not my husband.
I freeze up, my mind racing as I put a name to the feeling and I push through the heady haze of desire and the primal animal within me screaming out with delight at the reunion and I seize on all the little indicators because none of this makes a damn bit of sense.
Was my mind fooling me? Was I finally losing it? Was I willing a lie into truth only because my desperation for satisfaction had led me to this point?
Or was Trent really kissing me?
When we break I’m left breathless, shocked at the sudden onrush of feelings and at the hope that maybe this might be happening. The words I speak come automatically yet cautiously, one more feeler to see whether or not my illusion is just that.
I feel his lips close on the nape of my neck, brushing up to tease just beneath my earlobe.
“You’ve never kissed me like that,” I whisper.
And he chuckles in my ear and I recognize the voice even before he speaks.
“Haven’t I?”