Jonathanâs eyelids felt sewn shut with invisible threadâno, not sewn.
Pried
open by cruel, invisible fingers that had jammed themselves beneath his lashes and levered his eyes wide against the raw, burning scrape of dry corneas.
He couldnât blink. Couldnât look away. Couldnât even force his lids down far enough to summon the merciful dark.
Some cold, silent, absolute force
clamped
his gaze on the scene three feet away, pupils blown so wide the chamber light stabbed straight into his brain like needles.
And what he saw was Roxanneâhis wifeânaked and trembling like a goddess finally allowed to feel.
The deep-blue silk had slid from her shoulders and pooled at her feet like shed skin, leaving every lush, bruised inch of her body exposed in merciless detail.
Her full, heavy breasts rose and fell in violent, shuddering heaves, the left one dominated by the large, swollen handprint bruise he himself had leftâdeep, angry purple at the center where his fingers had crushed her soft flesh, fading into sickly yellow at the edges.
The skin there looked fever-hot, stretched
glossy-tight,
every tiny movement making the contusion throb visibly. Her dark areolae were pebbled into tight, hypersensitive rings scattered with tiny pinprick marks; her nipples stood out stiff and swollen, dark rose peaks pulsing with every frantic heartbeat.
The vivid violet bloom across her left ribcage stretched taut over swollen flesh, radiating waves of heat. The crescent-shaped welt high on her inner thigh burned raw and raised, shiny and inflamed.
Yellow mottling painted her collarbone, wrist, and wide hipsâevery mark pulsing in perfect, humiliating sync with the obscene, glistening mess between her legs.
Her pussy was a dripping, swollen, starving wreck for the boy whoâd just tortured her. The outer lips were plump and puffy, flushed a deep, glossy, cock-hungry pink that darkened to angry red at the edges.
They
quivered
visibly, already parted, revealing slick, swollen inner folds coated in thick, shiny strands of her arousal. Her clit stood erect and throbbingâpebbled, hypersensitive, twitching visibly with every ragged breath.
It felt she was
torturing
him for
eternity...
because whenever she thought of her... all heâll ever see is this scene and what would happen next!
Heâll be tortured by the memory of her hot, clear juice that poured from her tiny, fluttering entrance in slow, obscene strings, stretching and breaking, dripping heavily down her welted inner thigh in warm, glossy rivulets that traced over the crescent bruise and continued lower, coating the cleft of her round, full ass and making her tight little asshole glisten wetly... well he couldnât see that!
The thick, musky-sweet scent of her desperate
cunt
flooded the chamber, so potent it made Jonathanâs stomach twist with nausea and unwanted,
raging jealousy
.
Phei approached like a man stepping toward something holy. He didnât rush. Didnât grab. Didnât take.
One hand rose, hovering inches above the darkest bruise on her collarboneâthe fresh, fiercely purple stain where Jonathan had slammed her into the doorframe two nights ago. His fingertips brushed the fever-hot skin.
The contact was barely thereâyet Roxanneâs entire body exploded with pleasure she had never been allowed to feel from him.
A violent, full-body shudder ripped through her from toes to scalp.
Her salvation had arrived.
Her back arched hard, heels digging into the cold stone as her hips jerked forward involuntarily, shoving her dripping cunt toward Phei like an offering.
Without even realizing it, her thighs spread wider on their ownâknees trembling apart in subconscious surrender, presenting her soaked,
fluttering
pussy completely, inner lips
peeling open
further as if her body already knew this boy was the one who would finally claim what it had starved for through centuries of frost.
Her heavy breasts bounced and jiggled violently, nipples scraping the air.
A raw, broken moan tore from her throatâ
"NNNGHâhaaaahhh!"
âdeep, guttural, vibrating through her chest in a way Jonathan had never heard.
With just a
single
touch...
heâd made her feel more pleasure than Jonathan has ever did.
Her thighs trembled violently, the welted one sending sharp sparks of pain-pleasure straight to her core. Fresh juice gushed from her pussy in a sudden hot jet, splattering loudly against her inner thigh with an obscene splat, dripping in thick, sticky strands onto the stone floor between her feet.
Jonathan cried... heâd never had her wet like that and produce that much.
Phei didnât pull away.
He lowered his head and sealed his mouth over the bruise with agonizing, reverent tenderness.
Hot, damp breath washed across the sensitized skin first, then his soft lips pressed in a warm, wet seal.
His tongue flickered outâslow, deliberateâ
tracing
the exact border where deep purple bled into yellow, tasting the hurt, soothing the fire, worshipping the mark Jonathan had made.
Roxanneâs reaction was immediate and beautiful in their sound.
"AAAAHâ!
Haaahâhaaaahâ!"
A sharp, sobbing cry burst from her as her whole body convulsed.
Her hands flew up and clamped onto his shoulders, fingers digging in with white-knuckled desperation, nails biting through fabric as she yanked him harder against her bruised skin.
She didnât know she was doing itâher hips rolled in tiny, instinctive circles, grinding her dripping cunt against the air as if begging him to take everything, her trust
absolute
and subconscious.
Her back
bowed
deeper, pushing her heavy, marked breast into his mouth with shameless need.
Her stomach clenched visibly, thighs shaking so hard her knees buckled slightly.
Another thick, hot gush of juice squirted from her cunt in a forceful arc, splattering her welted thighs and puddling noisily on the floor.
Her clit throbbed visibly, twitching harder, her inner walls visibly fluttering and clenching around nothingâsubconscious
spasms
milking at emptiness, her body already surrendering every secret inch to the one who had finally thawed the ice.
Jonathanâs insides screamed.
The invisible force holding his eyes open felt like a red-hot vise clamped around his skull, pressure building behind his eyeballs until he was certain they would burst and leak down his face. His jaw was locked so tight his teeth ground together with an audible creak; he tasted fresh copper where heâd bitten clean through his lip.
Tears streamed hot and silent down his temples, tracked by the ice still sealing his mouth shutâa cruel, mocking gag that let him see and feel everything while stealing even the release of screaming.
Thatâs my wife. My fucking wife.