All Chapters of Married To A Sex Freak : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

I tried to force a smile, a shaky, unconvincing thing. The word, so unconvincing, tasted like ash in my mouth. I felt eased, though, but I couldn't just fathom how I was feeling about it."Oh, don't stress it, my dear," Robert said, his voice as smooth and polite as I remembered. "There are maids around. They would do all that stress."He waved a hand, and a maid appeared as if from nowhere, she was as beautiful as a blooming flower and silently accepting his instructions to prepare a meal. I stole a glance at my husband, and my blood ran cold. The look on his face was a mixture of disappointment and fury. My cheeks burned with shame. Would they see me as some kind of starving woman, a desperate housewife looking for a free meal? The air in the room thickened with my unease, and the weight of his gaze felt heavier than any meal I could have made.The air grew heavy with the promise of food, a fragrant blend of rich, boiled chicken, and the savoury sizzle of fried eggs. My stomach, a

I didn't expect this to be more painful than yesterday's torment. He kept sliding it in and out at a slow pace and each slide, a testament to the dangerous game he was playing with me. I let out a loud cry on top of my voice, and he moaned several times before increasing his pace on and on and on again. He was doing it and kissing me sometimes. Sometimes, he kissed my breast, making all my joints ache so bad.I saw my late mother's spirit appear before me. She was neither sad nor happy. She just looked at her daughter, suffering so much. I wished I wasn't cuffed to this pole, I'd have grabbed a vase and hit him so hard, then ran off.I couldn't think of anything anymore, but I just kept on enduring the pain. I'd shout for a while and give some stifled moaning again.He kept on sliding in and out of me for what seemed like an eternity, I noticed he became really fast at a time, and suddenly, he stopped. His manhood was still inside of me, as he opened his mou and laid on me. All his w

Mary described him with a simple clarity that felt both genuine and unsettling. "He's of medium height, with an athletic build and black hair," she said, her voice a calm river in the storm of my thoughts. A chill crept up my spine, a cold premonition that I desperately wanted to dismiss."Wait," I interjected, my head tilting forward, my neck stretching with a frantic hope that I was wrong. "Does he... does he have wide lips?""Yes, ma'am," she replied, her words a quiet confirmation that sent a shiver down my spine.My mind raced, images flashing behind my eyes. "Sunken silver eyes?" I whispered, my voice barely a breath."Yes.""And he was wearing a pair of grey jeans?""Yes."The world seemed to tilt on its axis. A gasp escaped my lips, "Oh my God, tell me it isn't Ethan!"Mary's face, a mirror of my own turmoil, was etched with a worry so profound it was palpable. She stood silent, her gaze a question mark, a silent plea for me to say it wasn't true."Ethan," I breathed, the name

Bryan's low whisper made me shove my hands into my pockets, a desperate attempt to hide their trembling.My voice was a low growl, barely a whisper over the hum of the air conditioning. "What happened to her?"Bryan flinched, his posture straightening instinctively. The tension in the room was a living thing, a coil of wire pulled taut between us. "She just didn't let me get to the gun. That's all," he explained, the words clipped and defensive.A cold rage bloomed in my chest. "This has never happened before. How did she get in there? What havoc has she wreaked?" My mind raced, picturing a hundred different worst-case scenarios. I walked past him, heading toward the main hall of the Pladore, my shoes silent on the polished stone floor."I just caught her trying to sneak into the storeroom," Bryan said, his voice trailing behind me. "I didn't go in. I figured she might have already found something, or maybe planted a camera."I felt a pit of boiling anger settle in my gut, hot and nau

A sudden, cold dread washed over me as he walked away, a stark contrast to the heat of the moment. I lay there, my body still humming with unfulfilled desire, the AC's chill now feeling like a harsh slap against my skin. The echo of his footsteps was the only sound in the room, each one amplifying the sense of abandonment. I squeezed my eyes shut, a way to conceal my shame. A knot forming in my stomach, hot tears welling up. Was this a punishment for something? Was this another one of his games, a new kind of torment?A jolt of paranoia shot through me, and I quickly sat up, a wave of cold air hitting my bare skin. Was I smelling down there? I stretched a trembling hand between my legs, my fingers brushing against the slick, milky discharge. I brought my hand up to my nose, breathing in a hesitant breath. But there was nothing—no sour, fishy scent, no foul odour at all. Just the faint, clean, almost unnoticeable scent of my own body. The lack of any bad smell only deepened my confusi