EPILOGUE
Clarke
Two Years Later
My obsession with my wife knows has no end and knows no boundaries.
Sitting in the back of my limousine, I scroll through the thousands of photographs of her stored in my phone, landing on one of her wearing nothing but black stockings and my come splashed across her stomach. Judging I’m still ten minutes from our home, I take my cock out and abuse it in my fist with great, groaning strokes, my gaze never leaving the picture.
“I’ll be inside you soon, little girl,” I mutter thickly, willing the driver to go faster. Get me home to Emery sooner. Today is one of the rare days she didn’t come in to perform her duties as my “assistant,” which generally include me feeding her a lunch of caviar and champagne, before she slips off her panties and rides my dick.
Thinking of my wife’s tight cunt milking me up and down, I grit my teeth and tip my head back, my hand on my cock going faster, faster. My God, I love her. My angel, my Emery and my little girl, all rolled into one sweet, savvy package.
And she is savvy, my wife. She wasn’t at the office today because her private tutors gave her an exam. The one she’ll need to earn her Bachelor’s in Business.
When I brought her home two years ago and declared she was never leaving, Emery insisted she be allowed to attend college. She wanted to learn, so she could become a true help to me at Carroway-Silver. So I created my own college and named it after her. Emery University. She’s the only student and her tutors—women, every last one of them—teach her everything she needs to know from the safety of our penthouse, while I watch on a closed-circuit camera that connects to my phone.
Knowing I need to stop beating off so I can save my come for Emery, I zip myself back into my pants and close my photos, going to the live feed of her in our home. My thumb swipes left, left, until I find which room she’s in. She’s sitting on the edge of her bed in our playroom. We have two of them.
One is for our toddler son, Emanuel.
The other is strictly for Daddy and his little girl.
Call the games between me and Emery wrong or right, we require them. No form of judgment can change what turns us on and completes us. Emery was robbed of a proper upbringing, so while in the daylight hours, she’s my equal, my wife…at night, I give her the youth she missed out on. We do it our way—and no one can take it away from us.
My driver pulls to a stop outside the building and I don’t wait for him to open my door. I’m already out and striding toward the entrance, breezing inside and going straight for the elevator. My cock is leaking in my pants, in need of my wife’s pussy. This rampant fuck-lust for Emery has only grown more and more obsessive over the last two years. It grows almost unbearable to be away from her for even a couple hours. I’ve arranged round-the-clock nannies for our beloved son because my need for her knows no schedule. It’s never-ending.
I don’t want it to end.
As soon as the elevator reaches our penthouse, I step off and unzip my pants again, shouldering off my jacket and letting it drop, even though one of the nannies—Annie, a British woman in her sixties—is sitting on the couch while my son presumably naps. She’s well used to my single-minded hunger for Emery and has witnessed the outcome several times. It echoes off the walls of our home at all hours. Her screams of rapture, my possessive demands.
When our son gets a little older, we’ll be forced to be quieter—or soundproof sections of the penthouse—but not yet. And thank God. I have a particular need to make her call my name today. It has been two years exactly since she walked into my office and changed my life. Made me a better businessman. Renewed my passion for what I do. Made me want to live every day to the fullest. All because of my extraordinary soul mate.
My dick is throbbing as I stop outside our playroom door and knock lightly.
“Come in,” calls Emery.
I open the door and step inside the pastel pink room, covered in furry pillows, beanbag chairs and stuffed animals. There she is. The object of my obsession. She’s lounging on her belly in a bunch of pillows on the floor, reading a book and twisting her hair around her finger.
“Hi, Daddy,” she chirps, rolling onto her back, giving me a glimpse of the virginal white panties under her short plaid skirt. “You’re home early.”
I kneel down beside her and tickle her ribs. “Maybe I missed you.”
She giggles and her thighs fall open. Just a little, before she smacks them closed again, a flush rising on her cheeks. “Um…I think I did well on my exam.”
“Good girl.” My hand still lingers on her side and I slide it down now, over the curve of her hip, letting it rest high on her bare thigh. “I knew you would do great.”
“Thank you,” she whispers.
My fingertips creep just beneath the hem of her skirt. “Is your mother home?”
“No, Daddy,” she whispers, wide-eyed. “Why?” Reassuring her with a smile, I part her semi-resistant thighs and ease myself down between them, grunting when my cock grinds down on her pussy. “W-what is that?”
“Shhh. It’s just the part of me that appreciates the woman you’re becoming, angel. And I want to show you how proud I am of you. You’ll make me even prouder if you let Daddy wrestle with you for a while. Just like this. Would you like that?”
“I don’t know…”
I roll my hips and force a smile, though I suspect I’m baring my teeth like a wolf. “Isn’t this fun? You’re making me feel so good after a hard day.”
She tucks a thoughtful finger into her dimple, a line forming between her brows. “I do like making you feel good, Daddy.”
I’m dry humping her sexy body now, the soft cradle of her pussy driving me to the brink of eruption already, even through the barrier of her panties and my boxers. Speaking of which, we need to do something about that. My need is too vast for obstacles. Distracting her with a flick of my tongue against her gasping mouth, I take out my dick and lay it against the soft cotton, leaving only one layer of material between me and heaven. “That’s because you’re my sweet girl, aren’t you?”
“Oh my gosh.” Her back arches, body twisting her teeth chewing on her lower lip. “I’m feeling funny, Daddy…”
Once again, I shhh against her mouth and use my dripping cock to deftly push aside the crotch of her panties and slide my tip inside her drenched cunt. “Oh, that’s not good, angel. Only certain little girls get that naughty feeling between their legs.”
Nervous blue eyes flash up at me. “Bad ones?”
“Yes,” I say sternly, unbuttoning her tight, white blouse and watching her tits bound free, watch them bounce as I drag my cock up and back in her wetness. “There’s only one way to get rid of that feeling, Emery. There’s only one man who can do it for you. No one else.”
“M-my Daddy?”
“That’s right. This is how it has to be.” I bury myself inside her with a drawn-out groan and she sucks in a breath, feigning a struggle beneath me on the floor. It takes no effort for me to pin her down, wrists locked above her head. “We won’t tell anyone as long as you save that feeling just for Daddy.”
“Always and forever,” she whispers, when I lean down to kiss her. “I love you.”
My response resonates in my voice and deep inside me, my heart squeezing in my chest as I look down at my obsession, my wife, my soul mate. “I love you, too, angel.”
THE END