Forbidden - A Story of Love, BDSM and Infidelity (4 page)

“
My sexy wife,” he said,
and collapsed on me.

I gave him a kiss, nestled in his embrace
until his breathing had calmed.

“
Wish I could stay in bed
with you, hon,” he said, getting up with a sigh. “I’m swamped in
the office.”

“
We could go to bed early
tonight, watch a movie?”

“
I still have to update the
accounting software tonight. Movie in bed sounds like a plan for
the weekend.”

I nodded. “You’ll be home for dinner?”

“
Don’t think so. I’ll be
out the door by ten if I’m lucky.”

He got up and out of bed, headed for the
bathroom. I heard the shower start.

“
I love you,” I whispered,
then turned my face into the pillow, closing my eyes to block out
the day.

My husband was well known and liked in our
community. The town’s veterinarian—little kids knew his name.

He didn’t deserve a wife like me.

He didn’t.

And yet, I could hear my own thoughts racing
as I tried to talk myself into seeing Tom again.

And I tried to talk myself out of it.

It’s been four weeks since I’d last seen
Tom. Four weeks since he had so masterfully brought me to my knees.
Four weeks since he collard me, leashed me, whipped me into
climax.

I still felt dirty because of it.

Dirty and ashamed.

And I wanted more.

Chapter Nine

Jules

I smoothed down my dress, just so that my
hands had something to do. My palms were sweaty, my heart
racing.

I rang the doorbell.

I waited, waited and just when I thought he
wasn’t home, Tom opened the door.

His gaze ran over me, his face not betraying
his thoughts. He looked bored almost.

“
What is it you want?” he
asked, crossing his arms as he leaned against the
doorframe.

I had no simple answer besides that I wanted
him. I wanted to be with him more than I wanted to stay away.

“
Can I come in?”

I wanted punishment. I craved the
uncertainty of what he’d do with me, how he’d take me, how he’d
touch me. The sweet pain, the exhilarating release.

He let me wait for an eternity, or so it
seemed to me, before he nodded.

“
Of course you can come in,
Jules.”

There was something in his tone that made my
breath hitch.

I resisted a guilty glance over my shoulder
to check if anyone saw me walking into his house.

Just thinking about what my possible excuse
would be for being seen with him made my stomach sink.

I was in real estate, and he was considering
selling his house.

I followed him into the house, let the front
door close with a soft click.

The stairs led to his bedroom in the first
floor, I already knew that, but he didn’t take me there.

I followed him into his exquisite living
room. He pointed to a chair at a large dining table, then
disappeared.

I sat, pulled my legs up on the chair.

When he came back, he held the collar in his
hand, a choker. To anyone else, it probably looked like a stylish
necklace. To me, wearing it was a sign that he dominated me.

I’d wanted to be alone with him, but I
couldn’t meet the cool heat simmering in the depth of his eyes any
longer.

I looked down, studied my toes, unsure how
to behave and what to say.

“
Jules,” he said quietly,
making me look up again.

“
Tom.” Just saying his name
felt weird and wrong. Just saying the name of another man made me
feel like the cheat I was.

“
What did you like when we
played, the last time?”

“
You spanked me,” I
answered quietly, easily remembering how he’d swung a riding crop
at my ass. How the sound of leather meeting my bare skin with a
satisfying snap had aroused me while I’d stood before him, wearing
the choker, the leash.

It had brought me to my knees with
longing.

“
Did you like the
pain?”

“
Did you like giving it to
me,” I whispered, seeking his gaze.

He’d stroked the riding crop over my
breasts, had given my nipples sharp little flicks. He’d licked his
lips every time when I let out a moan.

He stepped close to me, fisted his hand into
my hair at the nape of my neck. He slowly pulled my head back. It
wasn’t a gentle caress.

He fastened the choker around my neck.

“
The necklace is yours,” he
said. “When you come to me, you will be wearing this,
always.”

I nodded.

Necklace was a pretty word for it. It was a
collar. He’d put it around my neck the first time, and I’d
submitted to him, totally and unequivocally.

His cruelty brought me pleasure.

His touches that brought me pain—I begged
for it. The night we’d spent together—the only night we’d spent
together—he’d let a riding crop dance over my skin.

And I wanted all of it again.

He hooked a finger of his free hand beneath
the necklace and the hollow of my throat.

I swallowed, feeling the pressure of his
finger against my skin. My pulse beat so hard in my throat that I
knew he would feel it too.

He pulled me up and away from the chair, his
finger hooked around the choker.

I unfolded my legs, rose to the tips of my
feet. He held me tight against him, limiting my movement. I wasn’t
afraid anymore of what he’d do to me, how he’d make me submit to
him—not as much anyway.

A sliver of fear would always remain—and
this trace of fear was as arousing as the touch of leather against
my skin.

I wanted him to be rough.

He would indulge my fantasies for his own
twisted pleasure.

“
Pull up your dress for
me.”

I swallowed easier when he let go of the
choker, his finger no longing pressing against my throat.

He kept a firm grip around my neck, held me
in place as I hiked up my dress around my waist, then pushed the
hem inside my panties.

There’d be no playing around, I realized, as
he opened his pants. No spanking, no leather crop kissing my
skin.

He slipped his hand between my legs, pushed
my panties aside. He ran two fingers over my folds.

“
Not wet for
me?”

I shook my head.

“
It will hurt
then.”

If his first few thrusts would hurt, I’d be
wet all the faster. And if the pain from the stretch that his thick
cock caused would make me groan, it would be out of lust.

When he relaxed his hold around my neck, I
twisted away from him.

He yanked me back, my face smacking against
his chest. I liked the brutal way he fisted his hand into my hair.
I arched my back as the strength of his pull against my scalp
increased. My breasts stuck out, grew tight beneath my dress.

“
I want to hear you sob
when I fuck you.” His mouth twisted into the sadistic smile I’d
longed to see for the last weeks. “Don’t disappoint me.”

He knew his words turned me on.

Shame raced up my spine, confused me.

I’d never shake the feeling of shame that my
desire to submit to him created.

Unbidden, my husband’s face showed up in my
mind. Tears welled up in my eyes. I should leave, should leave and
never return.

Shame and guilt would always be a constant
when I was with him.

And yet, I’d be on my knees sucking him off
if he so much as whispered that it would please him to feel my lips
around his cock.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders when
he lifted me, his hands coming around my ass.

He pushed me against the wall, hard. The
pain wrought a groan from me. I locked my legs behind his back when
he told me to.

For a moment, I thought he’d kiss me.

When he didn’t, I tried to fight the
humiliation that he’d turned his face away as I’d lifted mine to
him.

He pulled my panties aside and I clung to
him as he shoved himself straight into me.

My body welcomed him with slick heat. Too
wet, I thought with a twinge of regret, but not so much that the
sudden tight stretch his cock gave me wasn’t uncomfortable.

It was more a moan than a sob as he moved my
hips up and then down on him again. There was already that familiar
sharp sensation of my own orgasm. He drove deep into me, fucked me
harder, each thrust pushing me against the wall. He called me a
whore,
his
whore.

His hand came down over my mouth. He muffled
my sobs, didn’t let me catch a breath. He growled into my ear that
I didn’t dare come, that he wasn’t giving me permission.

I didn’t give in, riding that sharp wave of
my own lust. It was agonizing, feeling thrust after hard thrust of
him, while I tried to stay away from that mindless space my own
orgasm promised.

His fingers dug into the flesh of my ass as
his cock throbbed inside of me.

I almost lost it then, feeling him come
inside me. As if he knew, he kept still. If he’d thrust just one
more time, I’d have climaxed. So, I balanced on that edge between
release and need.

He pulled out of me and I gave a strangled
cry. Was such my punishment? No more orgasms? No leather dancing
over my skin?

He adjusted his clothes and only his warm
come between my thighs was proof that he’d fucked me. And maybe the
weak muscles in my legs as I stood on my own feet again.

He gave a sharp tug at the collar, made me
stumble against his chest. I’d wait in vain for an embrace.

My husband would offer me that kind of love;
Tom offered only dominance.

The scent of sweat clinging to his skin
reached me. A masculine scent that made me press my cheek closer to
him, the need pulsing between my legs still too immediate. I’d do
anything for him if he only made me come.

Abruptly, he turned away.

“
Come back tomorrow night,”
he said. “Wear the necklace.”

Chapter Ten

Tom

She stood in front of my door, a slight
flush in her face. I longed to see that flush all across her
body.

She was wearing the necklace.

I didn’t think she would show up.

Yesterday I had been too impatient with her,
too unsophisticated. But I had needed the fuck, had needed to feel
her and come inside her.

I wondered where she kept the necklace, and
if she wore it all the time. Or if she kept it away from her
husband. A visual reminder of her infidelity, it had to make her
unnerved.

How it made her feel, wearing something
around her neck that represented her lust and desires, something
that proved that she freely submitted to me.

I knew that it turned her on.

“
Want to play?” I asked,
feeling how I got hard.

“
Yes,” she said, not
meeting my eyes.

I couldn’t wait to see her on her knees, to
snap the leash to the collar.

I couldn’t wait to turn her skin flushed and
red. To see her flinch, hear her moan and sob and cry with
unfulfilled lust. Couldn’t wait to make her my little pet.

Couldn’t wait to make her come.

She’d been breathing so hard, her face
glowing with lust the last time I’d used the crop. And so wet
between her thighs, so wet.

And so inexperienced in her desires.

There were a thousand ways to play with her,
yet I couldn’t wait to use the crop on her again. I wondered if she
wanted to be kissed, wondered if she knew that I would never give
her romantic love.

I pushed the door open, let her in.

Consensual this was. I wasn’t so sure about
the sane and safe. I wanted to violate her too much to teach her
safe scene play.

My own little whore. Mine to tie up, gag,
ignore, spank, fuck. No safe word bullshit, complete dominance. In
return, I’d give her everything she wanted—the pain and
humiliation, the hard hand on her throat, words to make her cry.
I’d make her feel used. I’d give her what she craved, what other’s
would call sick longings.

Not how this worked, but I could fantasize
about it until she walked out the door to never return because I’d
pushed her too far. Because I scared her.

“
Upstairs,” I said, and
then watched her walk up the stairs to my bedroom.

She knew the way, knew what I’d do to her
there.

Her hips swayed as she climbed the stairs in
front of me. I wanted to spank her so hard until she cried, and
then make her come with my tongue while her ass was on fire from my
beating.

She sat on my bed, knees together, and gazed
to the ground like the good girl she was. Like the good girl she
wanted to be, but really wasn’t.

I told her to undress, and she did without
flinching as she had done the first time.

When she was naked besides the choker around
her neck and the heels on her slender feet, she sat down on the bed
again.

“
Spread your knees,” I
said.

She did, giving me a nice view between her
legs, her triangle of dark curls that would be wet soon.

My hand came around her neck, held her
still. I lifted her hair and snapped the leash to the choker.

I gave a tug at the leash. “Stand up.”

She did, met my gaze too as if suddenly
emboldened.

I returned her gaze, leisurely checking her
out, holding the leash in one hand, and in the other—the riding
crop.

She wrapped her arms around her chest. She
arched her back, or maybe her shoes did it for her. But her arch
presented her breasts and ass beautifully to me.