Chapter Eight
Seven glorious gray days followed Erin’s wedding. These she spent in bed with Fritz for hours on end, both consumed by their passions, their loins fused. His erection drove into her madly and with sweetness. It pressed its way into her mouth to be satisfied and then resumed its place between her legs f*****g her until she was too sore to take any more. He took charge of her and she would not deny him. In her heart she knew this was the only way their relationship could be.
They’d spent so much time in bed they almost forgot to eat. But one morning, when she told Fritz she wasn’t hungry, he sternly reproached her, knowing she’d eaten hardly a thing in days.
“But you keep me full,” she said.
“And you’ll turn into skin and bones,” he retorted unhappily. He had a tray of foo
