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I wanted things to work between James and I. I wanted so badly for him to see me as more than just a woman he married, more than just a possession he could bring out, decorate, fuck, and tuck away when he was done.

Maybe if he ever looked at me like I mattered, like I had desires too, I wouldn't have fallen this far.

Maybe I wouldn’t have ended up in some stranger’s lap, soaking my panties, a man’s hand down there, and my moans swallowed by music.But I was here. And James was already close.

Jessica ran up to him, causing a distraction just as the man slipped his hand out. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I got up and left the table. I walked straight to the bathroom. I felt James’s eyes on me till I stepped inside, and then my knees buckled. I needed to think. I needed to breathe. What just happened was so close. Too close. And Jessica coming at that exact time... was it just coincidence?

I didn’t know who to trust anymore. I was alone. I couldn’t confide in anybody. I hated this so much.

A few minutes later, Jessica walked into the bathroom, asking if I was okay. But I wasn’t having any of it. I grabbed her by the neck, my fingers tightening before I could even think. I asked her why she was playing games with me. Who was that man? Who the fuck was he?

She choked and coughed and I quickly let go. I wasn’t thinking straight. I apologized.

Jessica looked at me confused and said she didn’t know what I was talking about. She asked what I was even doing in that man’s seat and if I liked him. She said she saw James walking toward us and decided to help me.

I wondered if she knew his finger was buried inside me? If she did, what would she say?

But I brushed it off. I told her he was just an old friend from before I got married. I apologized again, fixed my makeup, and we both walked back out like nothing happened.

The drive home was silent. I kept wondering what was going through my husband’s mind.

The moment we entered the bedroom, James pushed me down on the bed. His voice was low, angry. He said he saw the way that man was looking at me. “Who was he?” he asked.

I denied knowing the man.

James didn’t care. He tore my panties and thrust into me hard. I cried. I lay still as he finished and rolled off me like nothing happened.

He fell asleep.

The next morning, James woke up and apologized for hurting me. I was shocked. He said maybe we needed a staycation. Just the two of us. At one of his other houses. Somewhere quiet.

I didn’t know what had come over James. I looked into his face, searching for answers. Why was he suddenly being nice?

I packed my things and we left. I kept wondering if he was taking me back to my parents house . I was shaking. He noticed and held my hand, telling me everything was fine. That he just wanted us to have fun. That he wanted to be a better husband.

But what was the point? Can James ever really fuck me like that? Aside from trying to be a better husband, can he make me wet? Can he eat my pussy the way I want? Why was I even comparing them?

I didn’t know.

But I did.

The drive to the staycation house was quiet. The silence between us wasn’t cold, just uncertain. Like he was trying, and I was scared to meet him halfway. I kept looking out the window, watching as the environment was calm. I enjoyed nature, wondering where this was going. Was James really trying to fix things? Or was this just his way of resetting me back to the woman he could control?

When we got there, the house was beautiful. Open windows, soft lighting, a huge bed covered in crisp white sheets. Everything smelled new. Peaceful. But I wasn’t.

That night, James sat beside me on the bed and touched my thigh. Gently. He didn’t grab me or force me like last night. He looked me straight in the eyes and said,

“Tell me the truth. Something’s changed about you. You’re... bolder now. Like you’re not scared of anything. What’s going on with you, Mariam?”

I blinked. My chest tightened. I looked away and laughed nervously to cover the fear. But deep down I knew. I had changed. I wasn’t scared of James anymore. I wasn’t even scared of the man who was controlling me. I was scared of myself. Of how much I was starting to like this version of me.

I was scared of my desires and what my body craved.

James leaned in to kiss me. I let him. I kissed him back, slowly, as his hand moved up my thigh and slid between my legs.

But I couldn’t feel him.

My mind had already betrayed me.

I imagined the masked man’s breath on my neck. His grip on my hips. The way he made me gag on his dick,, the way he whispered filthy things into my ear. I moaned ,not for James. But for him.

I didn’t even realize I’d said something aloud until James paused.

“What did you say?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said quickly.

He narrowed his eyes. Something in his face shifted. But he didn’t speak. He just kissed me harder and pushed me back onto the bed. He moved slower this time, kissing my neck, sucking softly, trying to make love to me. His fingers were inside me and I was wet, but not for him. I came with my eyes closed, thinking of the man who didn’t care if I felt loved, only if I obeyed.

The guilt hit me later that night. I stayed awake, watching James sleep peacefully beside me. For once, he had tried. He’d apologized. He brought me here. He held my hand in the car and told me he wanted to be a better husband. Maybe if I gave him a chance, we could work. Maybe all this blackmail nonsense would end if I just let James love me right.

But the question kept burning in my chest.

Was James only being soft now because I had become bold? Because I looked more alive? Because the shame I carried made my eyes glow and my body arch and my lips stayed parted like I was always ready to be ruined?did he think I was going out of his leach.

Maybe the blackmailer didn’t destroy me. Maybe he woke something in me that James was just now starting to notice.

And just like that, my phone buzzed on the nightstand.

“So you went on a vacation to enjoy yourself, bad girl?”

I swallowed.nervous was he always watching me my pussy tinged at the thought.

“Wish it was you here,” I typed quickly and deleted it before I could hit send.

“You owe me. Tonight, you’ll get on top of your husband and ride him. Slowly. I want you to make it nasty. Look him in the eyes. Show him the woman you’ve become. Make him wonder who you really are.”

I stared at the screen, my heart thumping. It wasn’t a request. It was a command. A punishment.

I turned to look at James. He was still awake, scrolling through his phone. I kissed his shoulder, then slowly slid the blanket off his lap. He looked at me surprised. I didn’t say anything. I just pushed him back and climbed on top.

I moved slowly , teasing him. Grinding on him till I felt him grow hard beneath me. I kissed his chest, his neck. I looked him straight in the eyes as I pulled his dick inside me. My pace was steady. I rocked my hips the way I’d seen in p**n I wasn’t supposed to watch. I moaned low, deep from my belly, not caring who I sounded like.

James watched me. Like he didn’t know who I was.

I leaned forward, licked his ear, and whispered “Do you like that?”

He nodded. His hands gripped my waist tighter.

I rode him harder, letting my hair fall in my face, then pushing it back and showing him the expression I usually hid. I let my breasts bounce. I let myself make naughty sounds. And then I slowed down again and circled my hips, biting my lip.

I wanted him to wonder. I wanted him to ask.

And I hated that I wanted that.

James pulled me down into a kiss and whispered, “Who taught you that?”

I froze.

I laughed it off. “What do you mean?”

“You were never like this,” he said. His hands were still on my hips. But his voice wasn’t light anymore.

“You don’t like it?” I asked.

He looked at me. “I didn’t say that.”

But something in his eyes said everything. Suspicion. Confusion. Curiosity.

Exactly what the blackmailer wanted.

I climbed off and turned my back to him. My chest was rising fast. My thighs were soaked. My guilt mixed with desire.

What was I turning into?

The next message came just as I pulled the blanket over me.

“Good girl. Now he’s watching. He won’t stop. You feel it too, don’t you?”

I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. Because I did feel it. The shift. The power.

James was starting to suspect.

And that meant I was deeper

than I thought.