Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
My insides clench and my knees buckle when he kisses me like we don’t have an audience, like my husband isn’t bound, gagged, and injured mere feet from us.
His kiss matches his body.
It is godlike.
Only once I am again pliable from his touch does he pull back. Lust fires in the air when he inches back far enough to align our eyes and expose the winner’s smirk tilting his plump lips at one side.
The victory flaring through his hooded gaze should hackle my last nerve, but somehow, it doesn’t. He’s right. I’m not a princess. I am the ruler of my realm, and it is time for me to take back my crown.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miranda.”
He presses his lips to my temple and draws in a long breath before he places something cool and smooth into my palm.
I stare down at a switchblade.
“He will never get over watching his wife fuck like a thoroughbred.” The cockiness fluffing out his peacock feathers dulls a smidge before he says, “But if you don’t believe that punishment will make up for him sleeping with my wife, you’re free to issue whatever sentence you deem fit.”
He squeezes my hand holding the switchblade before moving to collect the jacket I didn’t notice hanging in the closet Roy is hogging until now. He yanks out his designer jacket, grinning when the coat hanger snaps from his rueful tug. Its sharp edge adds another nick to Roy’s bloody face.
“A cleanup crew will arrive in an hour. No matter what route you take, you have my word that they’ll make it seem like you were never here.”
Nero takes in Roy’s shirtless torso and battered arms while he puts on his jacket. I should use the time to consider my options, but all I do is gawk.
“Cut him free or cut off his cock.” His eyes are on me again, hot and narrowed. The latter point is for Roy. The former is for me. “I’m satisfied with the outcome I achieved today. Now the ball is in your court.”
His eyes lower, and he groans when he notices the steady rise and fall of my chest.
After imprinting his lower lip with his teeth, he awards me with a frisky wink and then heads for the exit.
I wait for the bang of the honeymoon suite’s door closing to boom up the stairwell before I shift on my feet to face Roy. He’s hurting. There’s no doubt about that. I don’t believe all his pain centers on the cuts, the bruises, and the freshly inked tattoo scoured across his forehead, though.
What Nero said is true. He’ll never get over seeing me with another man.
For once, my actions obliterated his ego, and I’m glad.
My confidence feeds off the wetness in his eyes when I walk toward him with a strut in my step. He’s only witnessed it once since he cut it to pieces with a ton of cruel words.
The last time I wore lingerie, he told me I should dress appropriately for my body type, and someone “with too much fat on their bones” should steer clear of the lingerie section of the department store.
Another man’s cum is dribbling down my thigh, but Roy doesn’t pay it an ounce of attention. He’s too focused on the trek of the switchblade I flicked open during my strut, sweating when I glide it up his thigh. He’s never seen my eyes hold this much confidence. Unlike with Nero, the awakening of my self-assurance has him petrified.
“Mir…” he murmurs, his use of a nickname purposeful and with hope. He thinks he can play me for a fool again. I have news for him. “I made a mistake.”
“A mistake? Ha!”
I stuff his sock in more profoundly, stealing his chance to issue more lies before positioning the switchblade between his splayed thighs. The rope circling his ankles isn’t forcing a thigh gap. His legs are so skinny, even flattened on the chair, that not an ounce of fat spills over.
His middle leg is just as scrawny as its counterparts.
“Mir…” His mumble is fraught, full of distress. “Pleas—”
I silence him by yanking the switchblade upward, tethering far more than the sanctity of our vows with one swift slice.
He keeps his cock—just. But I’m hopeful the footage from the blinking red contraption propped at his right will help me strip anything of real value from his life.
4
NERO
Anger boils my blood when the annoying snivel of a woman with no class rustles through my ears. Tasha, my soon-to-be ex-wife, could be crying because she watched the commencement of the beatdown I gave the pathetic fuck who thought he could touch my property without permission and get away with it, but the weakness of her sobs and the lack of fire in her eyes announce a different scenario.