I screamed out and he smacked it again. And again.
“This is what you honestly like?” He placed the tip of the whip between my legs, tapping it against my swollen lower lips. “I’m not going to turn you right side up unless you tell me the truth...Is this what you like?”
I didn’t answer. I just moaned as he dropped the whip to the floor and positioned his dick against me.
I braced myself for the much needed sex—using what little control I had to flex my hips, but he grabbed my waist and held me still.
“Do you know how hard it is not to f**k you right now, Claire?” He rubbed his dick against me—back and forth, again and again—but not entering me.
I scraped my nails against the floor to deflect some of the pleasure, and tried not to cry out in utter frustration.
I failed.
“Please, Jonathannnn...”
He slipped two fingers inside of me, groaning once he felt how wet I was. He slowly slid them in and out, making both of us moan with each deep stroke.
I shook my head and bit my lip, begging him to stand me up and f**k me, but he answered each of my pleas with a tender kiss against my thighs.
He continued to torture me with his fingers, and my thoughts became hazy; I started to feel familiar tremors traveling up and down my body.
“Ohhhh, god...” I started shaking—convulsing, getting ready to let go. But he didn’t let me cum.
He flipped me right side up in seconds and looked into my eyes.
Holding the vibrator against my clit, he brought his face close to mine and whispered. “How would you like me to finish this?”
By f**king me...
“I can’t read your mind.” He lied, smiling. “How would you like me to finish this?”
“By f**king me...”
“With my mouth?”
“With your dick...Now please.”
“I don’t think it would be special if we had sex right now...” He moved the vibrator away and my insides continued to throb in tortured pleasure. “It wouldn’t make us feel intimate...”
“Please...” I pleaded with my eyes and I could tell he was about to give in. I tried to push myself forward so I could kiss his lips, so I could convince him that I needed this, but he stepped back.
“After we’re married.” He kissed the tip of my nose and pulled his pants back up, leaving me panting and utterly lost. He freed my legs from the weights and slowly untied the rope from around my hands.
I fell into him and told him to take me back to my suite, but he lifted me up and laid me on the table, flat on my stomach. I didn’t even bother asking why. I was too frustrated.
I shut my eyes and vowed not to speak to him for a while, but I suddenly felt him placing warm stones down the center of my back. “Talk to me...” he whispered.
“About what? Sexual frustration?”
“If that’s what you want...”
I sighed. “Did my friends see you? Do they know that you’re here?”
“No.” He kneaded his hands against my sides. “They were way too drunk to pay attention to anything. I had Greg take them back to your villa so they wouldn’t pass out in that so-called club.”
“How thoughtful of you...”
He added a few more warm stones against my back. “Thank you.”
“What happened to your Vegas party? Was it that boring that you felt the need to come and ruin mine?”
“I didn’t ruin your party.” He kissed my hair. “I was having a pretty good time in Vegas, but I received a distractingly sexy ‘makeover’ picture from my fiancée while I was at a club.”
“I don’t remember typing ‘come crash my party’ at the bottom of it.”
“It was implied.” He pushed my new swooped bangs away from my face. “I didn’t want to wait until you came home to see you like this.”
“Really? Because I think it’s because you can’t go more than three days without touching me.”
“Four. I do have some restraint.”
I rolled my eyes and felt him removing the stones. “I’m never drinking that much again...I can’t even remember how many shots I had...Oh, and just so there are no secrets between us: I danced with a lot of men, tonight. And you know what? I loved it, just like Helen said I would...”
“Shhhh.” He sighed as he began pressing his hands into my back. “Be quiet, Claire.”
“No...You said you wanted me to talk.” I shut my eyes. “If you can crash my party and deny me sex, you can listen to...” I yawned. “You can let me tell you...” His hands felt too good to be true. “All about...”
Everything went black.
I woke up and realized I was in my suite. The sun was slowly rising outside my window and Jonathan was standing over me, fully dressed and fluffing my pillow. On the nightstand to my left he’d placed three bottles of orange juice, a bottle of Tylenol, and a note: “Enjoy the rest of your week in Costa Rica, Future Wife.”