“Maybe I don’t want to make love, Ian.”
My arms stiffen around her. She’s got to be kidding, right? The only times Kathryn turns down sex is if she’s not feeling well or we’re in some “inappropriate place” like a restaurant or some good girl shit. (Let me tell you, she’s far from a good girl.) “You’re killing me, Katie. I am dead on the floor killed.”
“Isn’t that too bad?”
“You can’t tell me you don’t want me.”
“Want you?” She laughs, loudly enough to make me turn my head. “Of course I want you. I want you to do every nasty thing in the book to me.”
“All right. Now we’re talking.” And I’m getting hard. It doesn’t take much.
“It’s not a good idea. I know you don’t care about lying in front of a judge, but if some old guy I’ve never met before looks at me and asks if the marriage has been consummated, I will feel like I’m going to hell if I lie.”
“You know,” I begin, my brain working in overdrive to get what my body wants, “I have it on good authority that, legally, ‘consummation’ only refers to my thing in your thing.”
“Whose authority is this?”
“Mine. I looked it up before coming over here.” Because of course I did!
“Of course you did.”
“So we could do all sorts of things and not lie when we say we never consummated the marriage. I can stick my cock in a myriad of places on your precious person and still swear up and down that you’ve never really been my wife.” I mean, of course I would love to spread her legs around me and sink myself balls-deep in her wet folds, but I will take what I can get.
Right now I can get her hand stiffening between my legs, twitching as if it can’t wait to touch my ever-hardening erection. “Are you trying to tell me that only hitting home runs count for consummating a marriage?”
“Hello, where have you been? How else do we know that the kids are mine? This is medieval America. We must know that your soiled goods are mine as well.”
If she were my mother, she’d smack me on the mouth for that. Instead, she hangs out with my mother a lot. So she smacks me with yet another look—and her lips, which land on mine in the most famished way possible.
We are in business, ladies and gentleman.
“Fuck, I love you,” she murmurs on my lips, her fingers tearing apart the buttons on my shirt. “I have spent the whole day thinking about you.”
“Oh? Tell me more.” Talk dirty to me, Katie. I know you can.
She twirls her tongue in my mouth. Promises of what she can offer me. Did I mention I’m hard yet? “You. Me. That bed over there. Use your imagination.”
“I’m afraid that if I do, this sham of a marriage will be consummated. Hard. It will be super consummated really hard.”
“Mmm.”
“Does that turn you on?”
Kathryn gently shoves me against the couch, nails scratching my chest and treading dangerously close to my fuzzy happy trail. “Everything turns me on right now. I’m full of wine and denied your cock until further notice.”
“Well, not entirely.”
Her fingers cover my mouth. “Don’t say another word. Unless you’re praising me. Got it?”
It’s difficult for me to understand anything when she’s unzipping my pants and grabbing my cock. “Oh, I’ve got it. Ma’am.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” I know that growl in her throat. My sweet little Katie is not very sweet right now. She’s one mean Domme machine, and if I’m not careful, I am going to walk out of here with the bluest balls while she laughs in the distance.
It’s happened before. It will happen again.
My goal is to make sure it doesn’t happen tonight.
“Remember what I said about shutting up?” She pulls her legs up onto the couch, tosses her hair so it’s out of her face, and lowers her head toward my waist. “I’m busy. Don’t bother me.”
She knows I’m going to get back at her for this, right? I somehow doubt she cares.
Not many people know this, but Kathryn and I have one of the most unconventional relationships that even I know of. We started dating because of the crazy chemistry between us, but what made us so hesitant to pursue something more serious was the fact we’re both the same extreme in the world of BDSM and Dom/sub relationships. While we’re pretty vanilla about half the time, the other half is a giant power struggle in the bedroom. I wanna tie her up, spank her, and make her beg for all the dirty shit I do to her. As it turns out, she wants me to worship the ground she walks on—to kiss her feet and call her my queen. We started off with her submitting to me, and then things took an interesting turn in my life when I started getting turned on by her domineering ways too.