Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 160042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
“Nah,” he corrects himself. “She became my personal little porn star the moment I licked her pussy.” I moan and twist my hips as he keeps going, making imaginary circles on my belly with his gun. “If I had known that, darlin’, instead of stabbing that motherfucker for touchin’ you, I would’ve just flipped your dress up and ate you out in front of him. You moaning out my name while squirting down my throat would’ve probably sent a better message that you’re mine. And you are, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, you are.” He nuzzles the mouth of his gun in my tummy as he chuckles again. “And I can tell you one thing, that sheriff would’ve creamed his pants watching you come for me but he wouldn’t have dared come near you. Because everyone knows, no law, no country, not even God is allowed to come between a man and his wife’s slutty pussy. And you’re that, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I whine again, rocking and rocking and rocking my hips, every curve in my body jiggling.
“You’re my wife.”
“I am.”
“And yet you keep runnin’ from me.”
“I won’t. I won’t. I promise,” I say, rolling my head back and forth on his chest. “I won’t run. Till death do us p-part.”
“That a vow?”
“Yes, it is.”
He hums. “What else?”
“I’ll listen to you,” I say, my eyes almost in a trance, blinking open and shut.
“Good. What else?”
“I’ll do what you tell me to do.”
His chest goes up and down with a satisfied breath. But then, he goes, “That’s all good, baby, but that’s not what I want and you know that. I know you know that.”
“But I…”
I feel him going down with his gun, lower than my belly button, skimming my pelvis before actually touching me there. Right where I’m wet and pulsing. And I’m so wet and pulsing that the barrel almost slips through my core. It almost slides through it, and just as he begins to run it up and down, he says, “Give me what I want.”
“But Arsen, I—”
“Give it to me.”
I hear his words. I do. But I don’t know what they mean. I don’t know anything anymore except how good this feels. How I want him to keep doing this. Keep running the length of his gun up and down my core.
At my continued silence, he repeats, “Now, baby.”
My eyes are scrunched shut. My mind is a whirlwind. My hips are rocking against that gun, and I’m powerless against his demands. “I won’t lie to you. I-I promise. I won’t.”
I feel his chest vibrate with his breaths before he whispers, right in my ear, “Then tell me your name.”
At this, awareness slams into me and my eyes snap open. “What?”
“Because we both know it isn’t Peyton,” he whispers.
I try to stop twisting, but he’s still pumping the gun along my core, and all I can do is stutter back, “B-but I…”
“Because the name you signed on that piece of paper starts with an R, and if you don’t tell me what it is, I’m gonna lose my fuckin’ shit. I’m gonna lose it, darlin’, yeah? I need to know your name.” He keeps pumping as he confesses, “I need to know the name of the girl I’m jerkin’ off to every night and blowing my load like a teenager. And then, satisfied, I sleep in her scent. I know the taste of her cunt, but I don’t know her name. I know I’m gonna kill her daddy for her, but I don’t know what to call her. And for the past eight years, every time I close my eyes, I see fire. I see blood and concrete walls and barred windows. But six months ago, somethin’ happened. My nightmares went away and I’d see skies as blue as her eyes, sun as golden as her hair. I’d see rosy skin and soft curves instead of cinder-block walls. So I need to know the name of the girl who made me dream when I thought all I was destined for was nightmares.”
Later, I’ll think about the repercussions of this. I’ll think about how foolish I’ve been. How dangerously stupid. For now, it slips out of me.
“R-Reverie,” I whisper at long last. “My name… It’s Reverie.”
And then I come.
Because he flicks my clit with the muzzle of his loaded gun and because he says with a long breath that he’s been holding for ages, “Like a dream.”
And I feel such a relief. Such lightness at finally telling the truth, that I don’t have to pretend anymore; not to mention, from having an orgasm that, when I finally come down from it, has left my eyes closed and my lips loose.
“Peyton’s best friend. My mother was her nanny and my daddy worked on the ranch. She asked me to do her sociology paper because she was failing. And I said yes b-because I’d do anything for her. But then I wrote to you and I… I kept writing. I kept writing even when I didn’t need to because I couldn’t not. Because I liked it. I loved it. And then we met and I wanted to tell you. The t-truth. At the café, but you… But then I found out who you were and… I ran. I had to. I couldn’t tell you the truth because I had to protect Peyton. Because of who you are.” Still blinking up at him, I continue, “I lied to you because you’re just like him. You’re just like my father.”