07BarteredPainThe BillionairesWifeARE Read Online Free Page A

hard on my clit.
    I strained and
arched, and within moments I was coming a second time, the world melting around
me, my body melding with his.
    When I was finished,
he lowered my shirt down over his cum and plastered it to me. He helped me to
my feet and steadied me as I worked my skirt back up over my trembling legs. I
closed my leather jacket around my upper body and tied it in place so no one
would see the stain on my shirt. Anton kissed me again before releasing me.
    "I'm sorry,
Felicia," he said. "I will be more mindful in the future. In the
meantime, I'm betting you should update that blog of yours and tell all. I
wouldn't be surprised if you made some sales out of this."
    Why was everyone
concerned about my sales? I hadn't put hand to clay in almost two weeks and I
was married to one of the richest men in the world. I didn't need to agonize
over my art any longer. And I didn't have any ideas anyway. Anton had
anesthetized the turmoil inside me. There was nothing for me to say at the
moment.
    I nodded and gave him
a smile. "All right," I said. "I'll do my best."
    He showed me to the
door, gave me another kiss, and I left. I held my head high the whole way home.
     
    *
     
    Anton wasn't home yet
when my mother came barging into the second floor reading room where I was
camping out with a fire, a blanket I'd liberated from my still-packed things,
and a mug of Irish coffee while I scrolled through my emails and texts from all
my friends. Contrary to my fears, very few people I knew seemed to have lowered
their opinions of me. Most of my art friends expressed envy at the publicity,
and my former coworkers at the bar were mostly surprised that I was so kinky. I
didn't bother to correct them, because as far as I knew I had always been kinky,
I just hadn't known it.
    I looked up when my
mother entered the room, her feet meeting the floorboards as though she held a
personal grudge against trees. "Felicia!" she exclaimed when she saw
me curled up in an armchair. "Felicia, what
are you thinking?"
    The whiskey in my
coffee was making me feel quite good, so I smiled at her instead of shying
away. "I'm thinking I should get another cup of coffee," I said.
    She stared at me,
dismayed. "Felicia," she said again, "you are on display all
over the internet and on the newsstands. Everyone is peering into your most
intimate moments with your husband. Your husband is treating you without
respect. Did you know he was into this sort of... perverted sex play before you
married him?"
    Well, I had signed a
prenup that had explicitly detailed all of Anton's favorite kinks, so
technically I suppose I had known. "Yes," I told her.
    She threw her hands
in the air and collapsed in the armchair across from me. "Really?"
she said.
    I nodded.
    She put a hand to her
eyes and shook her head. "I can't believe this is happening."
    Annoyance ran through
me. "Why?" I said. "Because it makes you look bad to all your
country club friends?"
    She glared at me.
"You know that is not true, Felicia. You know I have only wanted you to be
happy. I have only ever wanted you to find love with a good man."
    I sighed. For all her
faults, I knew this was true. She really did want me to be happy. She just...
didn't realize that people could be happy in different ways. Was I happy now? I
didn't know, exactly. I was, at the very least, content to see where this
hedonistic relationship could go. And if I wanted to end it in the future, I
could. But I could lean on Anton. I could depend on him. And, weird as it
sounded, I trusted him. I'd trusted him since I'd first read through his
contract. A man so open and forthright with what he wanted and what he wished
to do to me... it was refreshing. No surprises with Anton.
    Well, none except the
small vulnerabilities he let me see, sometimes inadvertently. All things
considered, arranged marriages could go a lot worse. A lot worse.
    "I don't know,
Mom," I said. "I enjoy Anton's company. He's... he's not a bad
husband."
    A pained look