"Yes," she moans, her eyes rolling back. "Yes, I am. I'm your cockslut. I'm your cum whore."
I feel my control loosening, the familiar pressure building at the base of my spine. My thrusts become erratic, more desperate.
"I'm going to cum," I warn her, my voice strained.
"Paint me with your cum," she begs. "I want you to make me a fucking mess. Do it! Fucking do it!"
With a roar, I pull out just in time, wrapping my hand around my cock and pumping furiously. Thick ropes of cum shoot out, splashing across her face, her sweater, and her belly. She opens her mouth eagerly, and catches the drops on her tongue.
Then, her body convulses in another orgasm, triggered by my release.
She cries out as pleasure overwhelms her once more. Her screams send a shiver rushing down my spine. I collapse forward into her and close my mouth around hers.
Her tongue surges forward to find mine, coaxing and twisting as we taste the sweetness of both our surrender while our bodies twitch and shudder in each other's embrace.
Together.
17
INDIGO
I adjustthe napkin in my lap, waiting for Valentina and Vassily to arrive for dinner. The massive oak table stretches between Anatoly and me, polished to a gleaming shine that reflects the chandelier's light. My husband sits at the head, scrolling through his phone, completely at ease.
My mind keeps turning back to what we did in Anatoly's office after Vassily's departure.
The way Anatoly knelt before me. The way I commanded him. How I perched on his desk while he pleasured me with his mouth, his tongue working between my thighs until I came apart screaming his name.
Heat rises to my cheeks just thinking about it.
But the most significant part wasn't just the mind-blowing orgasm—though God knows that was incredible—or the dirty things both of us said to each other.
It was the fact that it happened on his desk.
For two long years, the memory of the unfeeling hard surface of a desk haunted my nightmares. But after yesterday, I finally feel like I was able to reclaim something that had been stolen from me.
I took pleasure on that unfeeling surface. But more importantly, I demanded it on my own terms.
I controlled it. I owned it.
And now, I'm about to reclaim another piece of power that had been taken from me.
The doors swing open and Valentina enters with the imperious stride of a queen, Vassily trailing behind her like a dutiful shadow. His eyes meet mine briefly, offering a quick nod to both Anatoly and me.
Unlike before, there's no leering or mockery in his gaze, just a newfound respect following his renewed oath.
Valentina, however, remains oblivious to this shift. Her eyes narrow when they land on me, her lips pursing as if she's just tasted something sour.
"Why is she still here?" she asks, directing the question at Anatoly while pretending I don't exist.
Before Anatoly can respond, I smile sweetly. "I thought it would be nice for all of us to have dinner together... as a family."
The word 'family' seems to inflict physical pain on her. She sniffs loudly, adjusting her perfectly styled blonde hair.
"Well, at least you have the good graces to not parade the bastard and the other charity case here," she says, her voice dripping with venom.
I feel Anatoly tense beside me at her spiteful words. I reach over and place my hand gently on Anatoly's, feeling the coiled tension in his muscles. slowly ebbing His eyes meet mine, dark with fury, but I give him a slight smile and a barely perceptible shake of my head.
I've got this.
