The Obsessed Husband

Chapter 5

"Holy. Fuck."

Ella was stunned when they arrived at their hotel room, which was more like a big apartment. They had a king-size bed, a living room and two bathrooms, and a freaking swimming pool of their own. "God, this must have cost so much money."

"Not as much as the private jet," Dylan said, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her neck. "Do you like it?"

A smile appeared on her face. "I love it."

"Good," he said. "I'm going to go take a shower. Do you want to join me?"

It was tempting, but the pool called out to her. "I feel like going for a swim."

"Shit. I forgot to pack your swimsuit."

She narrowed her eyes. "'Forgot'?" Doubtful. The only swimsuit she owned was a red bikini. She loved it, but he hated it, thinking it revealed too much of her.

"Do you think I'm lying?"

"I know you're lying. But no big deal. I'll just get a swimsuit from the shop downstairs."

"Get a one-piece."

"Fine," she said, intending to do no such thing. She pecked him on the lips. "See you in a few."

As soon as she left the room, a wicked smile broke across her face. She was planning to buy the skimpiest bikini the hotel had. She wanted to get back at her husband for ripping one of her favorite pairs of overalls. Plus, she liked it when he got jealous and possessive, which he was sure to do when he saw her at the beach in her new bikini.

In the shop, she found the perfect—and by perfect, she meant tiniest—bikini. The top little white triangles were going to cover her nipples but not much else. And the bottoms were barely going to hide her pussy from other people's eyes.

5 minutes later, she strode out of the hotel, feeling like she was committing public indecency in her new swimsuit. One wrong move, and her tits would spill out of her top. Oh, Dylan was so going to lose it when he saw her in this.

Once she stepped onto the beach, she received a text.

Dylan: Where are you?

She responded, At the beach.

What?! You went without me?! You better be wearing a fucking one-piece.

Grinning, she took a selfie and sent it to her husband.

His reply was instantaneous: JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, GET YOUR ASS BACK TO OUR ROOM.

No.

Fine, I'm dragging your ass back.

The second she turned around, she saw Dylan, who glared at her. Before she could move, he grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder.

"Hey, I want to go for a swim," she said, making her voice sound as whiny as possible.

Through clenched teeth, he said, "You can go for a swim in our room. There's no way I'm letting these motherfuckers salivate over you."

She glanced at the people on the beach. Most of them were grandparents who wore bifocals and were absorbed in their paperbacks. "I seriously doubt these people are going to drool over me."

"Old guys can be perverts."

Dylan could be so unreasonable when he was jealous. She loved it though, having the ability to drive her husband crazy. Especially since more often than not, it led to incredible sex.

The moment they reentered their suite, he laid her down on the bed. "For the rest of this vacation, you're not allowed to leave my sight," he growled.

"You need to chill," she teased.

He glowered, noticing that her top had slipped and one of her breasts was exposed. "You're returning this swimsuit."

"The hotel shop doesn't accept refunds."

"You're only wearing this when we're alone then." He grabbed her bare breast, squeezing it. "If you want to go to the beach, you have to wear a swimsuit of my choosing."

"God, you're probably going to make me wear a nun habit."

"Hmm, not a bad idea." He yanked at the strings on her bottoms, revealing her throbbing sex. "I should punish you for lying to me."

"Maybe you should," she whispered, her pussy getting wet.

He shoved her stomach onto his lap, holding her ass when she squirmed. He pressed a finger against her forbidden ring, drawing a cry out of her. "How many times should I spank you? I think 5 is a fitting number."

Her sex was soaked as he brought his hand down on her ass. "Oh!" she shouted, between pain and pleasure.

"One." He slapped her butt again, causing her to clutch the bedsheets. "Two." Another swat. Another cry from her. "Three." Again, he spanked her, making her skin sting even more. "Four." At last, he dealt her ass the final slap. By now, her juices had dripped onto his thighs, and her pussy was desperate for gratification. "Five." Then he got up, cupping her womanhood as he carried her to the pool. "I do like this swimsuit," he said, pulling at the strings on her top. "But you can only wear it for me."

"Trying to order me around?" In truth, she enjoyed his alpha-male ways and being the object of his obsession. During the last few weeks, she'd missed this side of him; she was so glad it was back in full force.

Though he was fully clothed, he stepped into the pool with her still in his arms. With the water, his white shirt became transparent. "Only. For. Me." He pulled at the other white triangle on her bikini, freeing her breast.

"Fine. But you can't wear a Speedo." She didn't really care what he wore to the beach, but she wanted to give her own terms.

"Fair enough." He laid his lips on her tits, leaving her shivering. "I bet the spanking left your pussy aching." Tantalizingly, he rubbed his erection on her clit. She held on to his shoulders, biting her lip to hold back a scream that the other hotel guests would definitely hear.

Only one word escaped her throat: "Please."

Smiling, he thrust his hard-on into her and massaged one of her breasts. Her breath leaped out of her. Only he knew how to make her feel this damn good.

It wasn't long before she found herself unable to hold back the scream any longer.

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