Chapter Seventeen
Ian woke up in darkness, alone. He was lying face down, his chest and stomach in a puddle of his own c*m. Next to his hand was the key to the handcuffs.
In a cold wave, Laura’s pronouncement washed back into his consciousness. He groaned. He should have realised something was going on. All the signs were there. Not just her avoiding s*x with him, but the lack of birth control pills which he had registered at some level when he’d been hung over and searching for aspirin. Andrea had made it pretty clear a couple of times too, pointing out that his wife had no use for his sperm.
He remembered Laura describing all the men who had ‘...emptied their balls deep inside me,’ and how before the holiday, she had promised to be the filthiest little slut-wife he could possibly imag
