VincentA smirk plays on my lips as I watch her squirm under my gaze. She remains frozen in bed, her cheeks flushed and her breaths coming out in sharp gasps. It's a thrill to know that I can elicit such a reaction from her.I sit down on the edge of the bed, savoring the power I have over her. Her eyes never leave me as I position myself on the couch next to her bed. I feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that she wants me.As our eyes stay locked, I whisper, "You wouldn't want your fantasies to go unfulfilled now, would you?"She bites her lip and shakes her head, unable to deny the desire written all over her face. But then she adds quickly, "I don't even know what to do."My hand slowly moves towards my shirt buttons, teasingly undoing them one by one until my bare chest is exposed. I lean back on the couch, with my legs spread just like the character in her steamy novel."Do you still not want to try?" I ask with a seductive smile, confident that she won't be able to resist any l
SarahGod...what is wrong with me? I let the man overpower me and submit to the desire. Again!He holds a power over me that I can't seem to break free from, no matter how much I hate him in my soul. Every touch, every kiss, is a reminder of my weakness, driving me deeper into a pit of self-disgust. How could I let this happen again?After he was finished with me, he walked out of the room, leaving me lying in bed in a daze, filled with his hot cum.The bed sheets are tangled around my legs, sticky and cold from his sweat. I quickly hop in the shower. My body is sore, but strangely enough, there is still a tingle in my core that makes my clit throb with desire. God damn him! Why won't he just leave me alone?Crawling into the shower, I stand under the hot water and let it beat down on my skin. My butt stings where he slapped me during our rough sex, but I welcome the pain.Anything to wash away his revolting seed inside me.But aside from his rough treatment, he seemed tender at times
Sarah I wait until the coast is clear. Vincent has been gone for hours now, and when I asked Jennifer about it, she confirmed that he wasn't coming home until midnight. Now is my chance to snoop! I tiptoe to the study, my heart beating fast. I know I shouldn't be doing this, but the curiosity is killing me. I frantically search his huge desk, finding nothing. His files are in order. He seems like a neat freak and I am not surprised. Most sociopaths are, according to all the movies I watched. "If I was Vincent, where would I hide a key?" I say aloud to the empty room. My eyes scan the immaculate surface of Vincent's desk, frustration building as I find nothing out of the ordinary. Just as I'm about to give up, my fingers brush against a slightly raised edge. Intrigued, I press on it, and to my surprise, a hidden drawer smoothly slides open. Holy shit! This is so cool! Did he steal this desk from the movie set of Sherlock Holmes? My breath catches in my throat as I glimpse its co
Sarah Vincent clasps my hand tightly as we enter the party, filled with men in sharp suits and women wearing expensive cocktail dresses. It's one of those extravagant affairs that screams wealth and status. I couldn't get away with wearing denim shorts for this event, so I'm wearing a velvet dress that falls above my knees and high heels. My eyes sparkled with anticipation, but Vincent's grip tightened—a silent command to remain at his side. "Remember, you're here as my wife and I am well respected in this crowd," Vincent mutters, a sneer warping the corner of his mouth. "Don't embarrass me." My smile falters. Way to ruin my mood already! "Embarrass you?" I echo, heat rising in my cheeks. "How presumptuous of you." "Can you blame me for thinking that? You've been nothing but a pain in my ass ever since we got married. So just do me a favor and don't make a scene, Sarah," he says, his voice dripping with condescension. Oh, hell no. Now I want to make a scene! I pull away from
Sarah My hands tremble as I follow Vincent into the spacious bathroom, lined with marble and adorned with gold fixtures. He has a firm grip on my arm, pulling me along like a disobedient child. I don't resist, knowing I am the one at fault here for ruining his suit jacket. I'm dabbing at Vincent's jacket with a wad of damp paper towels, trying to blot out the dark stain that's spread like a shadow across the fabric. The sharp scent of the gravy mixes with the sterile tang in the air of the bathroom, and I'm hyper-aware of his gaze on me—disapproving, cold. "Careful," he snaps as I press too hard, and a fresh wave of the savory scent hits my nostrils. "You're just making it worse." The jacket feels stiff under my fingers, the fine material clearly not meant for clumsy hands or makeshift cleanups. I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks, anger flaring up inside me at his tone. He's standing too close, his presence overbearing, making the small space of the bathroom even more stifli
Sarah After Sophia leaves, I feel lonely again. I walk around the garden for a bit and then go back to my room to read my book. The house is surprisingly quiet today. No sign of Vincent or Nathan anywhere. I excitedly open the book, ready to dive into some steamy erotica. But my excitement quickly turns into frustration as memories of giving Vincent a blowjob flood my mind, and I angrily hurl the book against the wall. Why does he have to ruin everything, even my reading material? Ugh! Fuck you, Vincent, and your stupid abs and handsome face. DING! I nearly jump out of my skin as my phone chimes. "Hey, bitch. My birthday is tomorrow evening. You are coming, right?" my friend Natalie's text graces my eyeballs. I glance at the text on my phone and beam. It's Natalie's birthday tomorrow, and I had completely forgotten about it. How could I? She's been my best friend since high school. But between the marriage sham and my husband's mysterious vendetta, everything else seemed to hav
VincentWhat am I doing anymore?Why did I just impulsively invite myself to Sarah's friend's party? It's not like me to seek out some one-night entertainment or indulge in juvenile fun. I don't even like going to business events.But here I am, going against my own grain and stepping into a world that is not my own. I can already imagine the swarm of carefree nineteen and twenty year olds that will fill the party. And then there's me - feeling like an outsider among them all. So why did I even bother agreeing to come?"Are you really coming with me?" Sarah asks for the third time.My annoyance rises at her persistence. "Yes, I am," I reply curtly.She furrows her brow, concern etched into her features. "You're not going to cramp my style, right?"I can't help but smirk in response. "Cramp your style? Really?"She nods seriously. "Yes. But don't worry, even if you try to rain on my parade, it won't work. Natalie is my girl and I can do whatever I please at her party. So there." She st
Vincent It didn't take long before Sarah passed out in my car as I drove home. I sigh in frustration. Is that what my life has come to? Hanging out with teenagers and dragging my drunk wife home? She mumbles something next to me in the passenger seat, so I look over at her. "What's that?" "MM...thirsty," she says with her eyes closed. I pull over at a convenience store and grab a bottle of water for her from the cooler. My heart races in annoyance as I pay for it. This girl had brought me nothing but trouble these past few weeks. But I guess I have no one else to blame but myself for marrying her. Once we are moving again, she chugs half of the bottle and passes out again. Great, just great. I turn up the music to try and block out my thoughts about how pathetic this all feels. The bass thumps through the speakers as I tap my fingers on the steering wheel in sync with the beat. Lights from passing cars flash across her face, casting weird shadows on her closed eyes. We pull in