Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 64452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“Yes, sir,” I whispered, my voice barely audible against the leather. The admission felt like another piece of my soul being stripped away, but I couldn’t deny the truth of it anymore.
“Good girl,” he said, his hands stilling against my marked flesh. “We’re going home tonight, Heather. Back to our bed, where I’m going to use you properly from now on. No more lies, no more pretending to be someone you’re not. Just you, serving me exactly as you need to and precisely as I choose.”
The promise in his words sent electricity through my exhausted body. Home. Back to the bed where I’d faked so many responses, but this time as his acknowledged property. The thought terrified and thrilled me in equal measure.
“I’m going to fuck your face and your ass whenever I want,” Ryan continued, his voice taking on that commanding tone that made my knees weak. “I’m going to have friends over to share you when I think you need a lesson in humility.”
I felt my face burn as his words sank in, the promise of complete ownership making my stomach clench with shameful anticipation. This was what I’d craved during all those gentle nights when I’d lain beneath him pretending to be satisfied. Now he was going to take me whenever and however he wanted, and I would have no choice but to submit.
“Yes, sir,” I whispered, my voice breaking on the words. “I understand.”
CHAPTER 21
Heather
As soon as we walked through the door of our house, Ryan made clear how much had changed.
“Take off your clothes,” he told me. “You’ll be naked most of the time when you’re at home, from now on.”
I stared at him, my heart hammering against my ribs as the reality of what he was saying sank in. This wasn’t a request or a suggestion—it was a command from the man who now owned me completely.
My hands trembled as I reached for the hem of my blouse, the simple cotton fabric suddenly feeling foreign against my fingers. Just days ago, I’d been his modest wife who insisted on privacy even when changing clothes. Hours ago, I’d felt grateful to put on the clothes Ryan had brought to the Selecta Solutions facility, for me to come home in: a pink top, a blue skirt, my everyday beige bra and white panties. Now I was stripping naked in our living room because my husband had decided I no longer deserved the dignity of clothing in my own home.
“All of it,” Ryan said when I hesitated after removing my top, his voice carrying that new authority that made my knees weak. “Bra, skirt, panties. Everything comes off, and you’ll ask permission before putting anything back on.”
I unhooked my bra with shaking fingers, my breasts spilling free as the garment fell to the floor. The cool air made my nipples harden immediately, and I saw Ryan’s eyes track the movement with obvious satisfaction. My face burned with shame, but underneath the humiliation was that treasonous heat I could never control.
The skirt pooled around my ankles next, followed by my simple white panties—the modest cotton underwear that felt like a lie now after wearing the red lace lingerie at the facility. I stood there completely naked in our living room, my arms instinctively moving to cover myself before Ryan’s sharp look stopped me.
“Hands at your sides,” he commanded. “I want to see all of you, whenever I want. Your body belongs to me now, and I’ll look at it as much as I please.”
I let my arms fall, exposing myself completely to his hungry gaze. The way he studied me—not with the gentle appreciation I was used to, but with the possessive assessment of ownership—sent mixed mortification and lust through my core.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, stepping closer to run his hands over my bare skin. “This is how you should have been greeting me every day since our wedding. Naked, available, ready to serve.”
His touch was confident now, claiming, nothing like the hesitant caresses I’d grown accustomed to. When his fingers found my pussy, I gasped at the contact, my hips bucking involuntarily against his hand.
“Already wet,” he observed with satisfaction. “My little ass girl likes being displayed for her husband, doesn’t she?”
The degrading pet name made me whimper, but I couldn’t deny the truth of his words. Standing naked before him while he remained fully clothed made me feel completely vulnerable, completely owned. It was exactly what I’d craved during all those frustrating nights when I’d touched myself in the shower.
“Yes, sir,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I like it when you look at me.”
“Good,” Ryan said, his fingers continuing their exploration. “Now, since you’ve been home for less than five minutes and you’re already wet, we need to do something to make sure you remember what you are.”