Breaking Perfect (15 page)

“God, you look beautiful with my mark on you.” All insecurity
faded away and she flushed with pride. He lowered himself to the carpet and
kissed her lovingly. “Lie back. Let me take care of my beautiful wife.”

He eased her onto the floor and kissed her again, softly and
reverently. His hands went to her breasts and came in contact with the fluid he
had left there. He chuckled over her mouth and then dragged his fingers through
the trails of cum, gathering the mess and smearing it over the flesh of her
belly and down toward her sex.

“My wife,” he said as he kissed her. “My tits.” His palm
cupped her mound and into her seeping channel went two wet fingers covered in
his cum. “My pussy.”

She moaned and he forced the fingers deeper. He’d never been
this aggressive with her. He filled her needy cunt with his digits and
proceeded to pump them in and out as she writhed and moaned. His mouth traveled
down her throat and to her breast. His mouth latched onto her nipple and suckled
hard. She cried out in pleasure and realized he was sucking in some of his own
fluids, yet it didn’t seem to bother him.

Mason licked from one breast to the other as his fingers
fucked her hard. Her knees fell open and his tongue moved across her ribs and
down her tummy. He was like a man possessed and her body reveled at his
overwhelming touch as though he was in ten places at once. He was everywhere.
Inside her pussy, on her breasts, she was in his mouth, under his tongue, under
his hand.

When his hand pulled out of her channel she moaned, but then
gasped as he yanked her over to him and lifted her to his mouth by her thighs.
She would have marks there as evidence of his intense need for her. His tongue
pierced her folds and fucked her with languid yet probing licks.

It was too much. She began to pant. Just as she grew used to
the intrusion he switched it up and began licking at her folds from the
outside.

Never in her life had she imagined her husband in this light.
He was doing things to her she would have never suspected him capable of doing,
completely and utterly focused on only her pleasure. The animalistic edge to
his touch was so liberating. She spared no time or thought to how raw and
uncivilized their actions might appear to the more sophisticated outside world.
Here there was only pleasure and Liberty was prepared to take as much as her
husband was willing to give.
 

When he pulled back and licked from the tight pucker of her
ass all the way to her clit she almost came out of her skin. He laughed at her
reaction then fed his thumb into the lowest part of her crease so that he could
rest his fingers over her taint. Her legs draped over his shoulders and her
back barely touched the floor.

His mouth hovered over her clit as his thumb made shallow,
purposeful dips into her sex. Each breath he took fanned the bundle of nerves
peeking past her flesh and she wanted so badly for him to take her clit in his
mouth.

“And for the record,” he whispered over her clit as one of
his fingers gently circled the rosette of her ass. “This is my ass too.”

His mouth crashed down and he sucked her clit between his
lips and began to pull relentlessly. She screamed and came in a hard rush of
spasms and moisture. He continued to torment her, sucking hard and flicking with
his tongue as his thumb jammed in and out of her cunt with force. She trembled
and cried out, her nerves splintering into a thousand pieces.

“I can’t take any more,” she shouted, trying to pull her
pelvis away from his mouth.

His arm wrapped tightly around her waist and he held her
there. “Yes you can.”

She screamed as he moved his hand so that his thumb was
replaced with two fingers. He lowered her body back to the carpet and continued
to suck hard on her clit. She twitched and convulsed, a multitude of sensations
and emotions combating for space in her mind. It was too much at once. She
wanted it to stop yet wanted it to go on forever.

His fingers pressed deep inside of her and suddenly she
climaxed again. He praised her as he licked up her juices, but he didn’t
release her. On and on he fucked her with his mouth and fingers until she lost
count of how many times she came.

When he finally released her she was unaware of anything
other than her throbbing pussy. Her clit seemed to have a heartbeat of its own
and every few seconds her insides would flutter with an aftershock from coming
too many times. It was highly likely she’d still be experiencing aftershocks
tomorrow, considering they sporadically sent a delayed jolt of ecstasy through
her veins that left her trembling.

Mason laid his cheek on her belly and panted. They must have
both fallen asleep on the floor for a while, because the next thing she knew
she was freezing and Mason was carrying her back to the bed. He covered her and
rather than laying on his back like he usually did, he pulled Liberty tightly
to his side and held her.

* * *
*

When she woke up around five the following morning to start
her day she was still in his arms. She tried to carefully slip out from beneath
the weight of his arm, but he grunted and tightened his hold on her. Her mind panicked
for a moment.

She needed to get up and shower so that she could make
breakfast and mop the foyer before the house was awake. It was what she did.
She didn’t want to disturb him, but the urge to go about her business as usual
was nagging at her and making it hard to breathe with each passing second.

Her fingers tried to pry open his grip, but he was actually
fighting her.

“No.”

The stern order caused her to freeze. She licked her lips and
tried not to get alarmed. After a moment, she calmly said, “Mason, honey, I
need to start breakfast. I can’t sleep as late as you do.”

His voice was muffled in the pillows when he said, “I’m awake
now.”

“Well, I have things to do. Let me up and I’ll let you get
back to sleep.”

“No. I’m not ready to let you go yet. You’re warm.”

She was glad he wanted to spend time with her, but she needed
to get up. She was already fifteen minutes behind schedule. If the floor didn’t
get done it would have twice as much dirt and dust on it tomorrow because she
wouldn’t be able to get to it in the middle of the day with people constantly
walking through. Then tomorrow it would take twice as long to clean and she
would know that extra grime was there so she would have to forgo the mop and
get down on her hands and knees and do it with a sponge and bucket. She didn’t
want to disappoint him, but she needed to draw the line. She had
responsibilities.

“Mason, I need to get up. Ouch!” He pinched her nipple. “Hey,
that hurt!” Frustrated and a little upset, she began to struggle to sit up. He
pulled his face out from the pillow and easily flattened her into the mattress
and subdued her struggles. He leaned down and kissed her. At first she
protested, but then his persistent mouth wiped away all irritation.

“Good morning, Liberty.”

She pursed her lips and frowned at him.

“Is that anyway to greet your husband in the morning? I said,
good morning, Liberty.”

“Good morning,” she grumbled.

“Well, someone got up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

“No, someone can’t seem to get out of bed today.”

“Hmm. Well, let’s see if I can make it worth your while to
stay.”

“Mason, I have chores—”

His firm cock nudged against her sex, cutting off her train
of thought. “My rules, Liberty, remember?” Her lips pressed together. She
needed to mop the floor. She was now twenty-three minutes behind schedule. He
breached the entrance of her sex and moved the head of his erection up and down
over her swollen lips and slit. Her stupid, traitorous body bloomed like a slick
flower for him and her moisture coated the tip of his cock.

He slipped inside of her and seated himself and moaned.
“There, now isn’t that better?”

She struggled with wanting to move against him and the need
to continue her protests. Now she wasn’t sure if she wanted to mop or have sex.
He slowly pulled himself out and thrust back into her. Yeah, she would just
have to wake up extra early tomorrow. Because there was no way she was leaving
this bed now.

Without being asked to do so, she raised her arms above her
head and laced her fingers together. Mason smiled. “Ah, there’s my girl.” She
smiled back at him and found herself forgetting about chores and time and
focused only on her husband.

Chapter Seven

Sean entered the quiet kitchen and wondered where everyone
was. Did they go out? It was almost nine o’clock and Liberty said she would see
him at breakfast in the morning. The day before, she’d gotten up obscenely
early. Didn’t she always do that? His stomach growled and he frowned at the
immaculate, state of the art kitchen and considered peeking behind some of the
custom cabinets to see if he could score a bowl of Captain Crunch.

He walked over to the counter and noticed the Cusinart coffee
pot sitting open with fresh ground coffee already waiting in the crisp new
filter. He gazed over his shoulder and to the door. With a shrug he shut the
trap and hit start. Moments later the aroma of freshly brewing coffee filled
the air accompanied by the happy little perking sounds coming from the machine.
The presence of noise in the house other than his own breathing made him feel a
little more relaxed.

Moving to the cabinets, he began scavenging for food. The
first few cabinets he opened were filled with meticulously organized dishes,
glasses, and bowls. He noticed a pattern of one upturned dish for every type.
Weird.

The cups were all lined up as if on a grid, perfectly spaced
from every angle. But then the last glass on the left was always upside down.
He wanted a drink, but wasn’t sure if he should take the odd cup out or go for
one of the more uniformly stacked ones. After realizing he’d stood there for
almost a minute debating something so stupid, he rolled his eyes and grabbed
any old glass.
 
Liberty was having an
effect on him.
 

He went to the faucet, filled the glass and chugged it. When
he was done he placed it on the counter and continued to scavenge for food.
There was plenty of it. Problem was it was all in forms he didn’t know how to
use. Clear glass jars were filled with various white powders. Sean could
identify the flour and sugar, but other than that he had no idea what they
were. There were tons of them. It almost looked like he was snooping in a
culinary meth lab or underground coke kitchen.

He pulled one small jar of white stuff down to get a closer
look and was relieved to find a label on the top claiming it baking powder. The
rest were also labeled, he found. He was getting quite a lesson. Who ever
thought there were so many variations of flour and sweeteners and sugars? Made
no difference anyway, he didn’t have a damn clue how to make things with
ingredients like that.

He moved to another cabinet that looked similar to the white
one, but this one was filled with jars of various dried beans. The next one was
much the same, but with smaller jars of spices. He was growing frustrated and
hungrier by the minute. By the time he reached the pasta cabinet he’d seen
enough. He slammed the cabinet and didn’t even get the satisfaction of hearing
it slam.
Stupid dove tail jointing.

“What the fuck?” He ran his fingers through his hair and
groaned. “Where is all the food?”

He heard a slow creak in the distance and stilled. Was that
them? Were they home? He walked out into the foyer and didn’t see any signs of
them. Then he heard a noise again. It came from upstairs. When it came again he
identified it and groaned.

Not again. Female cries that only a woman being thoroughly
fucked could make filtered to his ears. Over and over, louder and louder
Liberty’s cries echoed through the house and he could almost feel each tight
thrust of Mase’s cock that made her scream. He certainly could hear the rhythm
his boy was keeping.

His mind wandered and he imagined how they would look like
fucking. Was Liberty an on top kind of girl or a doggy style one? Mase was
definitely a man who liked to be in charge. It had been one of the things they
struggled with in their own relationship. Two alpha males.

The vision that filled his head as her cries of ecstasy
filled the house was so real it knocked the breath out of him. In his mind he
saw Libby getting fucked, but it wasn’t Mason’s hands that held onto her hips.
They were his. Through his mind’s eye he followed the narrow column of her
spine until he saw nothing but blond curls bouncing with each thrust. His
fantasy traveled farther and he saw Mason wearing nothing but an expression of
pure rapture as he fed his wife his fat cock.

Sean shook his head and stumbled back as if the vision was a
living thing that grabbed hold of him. Just as his head returned to reality he
heard Mason’s deep voice shout and Liberty’s accompanying cry and knew they had
finished. He turned and went into the kitchen. He was leaving today.

* * *
*

Mason followed Liberty down the steps after they shared a
long shower. When she reached the landing her steps faltered and a look of
panic intruded on her otherwise serene expression. “Lib?”

“Someone’s made the coffee. Sean’s made the coffee.”

She made to bolt, but he snagged her hand and kept her from
leaving his side. “Hey, look at me. It’s just coffee. Sean knows how to make
coffee. He’s probably done it a million times. Besides, all he had to do was
turn it on. Now, we talked about this. Nothing is different. We’re just
starting the day a little later. Look at it this way, now you have one less
thing to do to catch up.”