The Submission Bet: Losing My Wife by Jaime Thorne

Author:Jaime Thorne [Thorne, Jaime]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2022-11-09T00:00:00+00:00

HERS

"Krissy," Sam says warningly as I play at the belt on my waist and tease him with the thought of what he knows lies beneath, "We don't have to do this."

"But aren't you curious?" I ask, "I mean it could be a little bit of fun, right? The two of us. We don't have to cross any lines that neither of us are comfortable with. But we could still push the limits a little bit."

I watch him actually consider things. His eyes narrow as he looks at me, wondering what the game is here, but I tell him with my body language and my look that there is no game I want to play.

Still he hesitates, for god knows what reason.

"Fine," I say, stepping forward and moving from my couch to his, "We don't have to take the coat off yet, though I do think that could be fun. But there are other fun things I think we could do."

"The cameras," he says warningly.

"Can be turned off," I say in reply, "Or can be ignored. It can be just between the two of us."

"You're married," he says.

"But tonight I belong to you."

Truthfully there is no one reason why I'm doing this. There are too many different reasons for it to boil down to one single one. It's a confusion of things in my mind, all of the information that I've gotten since arriving here shifting my perspective and giving me a new one.

Luke is a bad husband. He's good in a lot of ways, but where he falls short he really, really falls short. He's jealous and he's bitter and he's got ideas about who I am and what I'd be willing to do. And those shortcomings extend to his friend as well, the last man in the world who deserves that kind of treatment.

Because Sam has been nothing but kind and decent to me, even in the face of these insurmountable odds. He's been honest and forthright and he's been downright good. It makes me wonder things. It makes me imagine things. It makes me need, in a way, to know what it would be like to really spend a night with a man like him.

I press onto the couch, crawling my way into his lap and settling down straddling his thighs and facing him. Falling down enough that I can feel him beneath me, every last inch of him as my hips almost unconsciously start to move back and forth.

"Krissy," he says, "I don't want to break the rules."

"But there is only one rule tonight and that is the rule that I have to obey you. If you say I have to, I have to."

I'm getting closer now, close enough that his lips nearly brush against mine as he speaks, "We could watch a movie."

"I don't want to watch a movie," I say in reply.

And our lips are touching, not kissing but connecting. And my body is burning with anticipation at the way his hands are twitching around me.

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