By now, youâd forgotten when and how you got to Ambrose, but you knew it mustâve been nearly a decade ago. Doing the same mundane chores made the days in the Sinclair house merge together into a continuous blur. Loving, and being loved by Bo made it all worth it in the end. Heâd never expressed his love out loud, never letting those three sweet words slip from his lips even by accident. It was shown in his actions, in the days heâd take you into a nearby town, in the valuables heâd collected from his victims just for you. He wouldnât dare bring back something that wasnât exactly your style.
Fingers between your slick folds, you had failed to notice Bo leaning against the bathroom counter and watching you with a hungry grin on his face. You let out a whimper, gripping the side of the bathtub.
âSeems like yer having fun without me, not that I mind.. You look real pretty like this.â Bo murmured, standing up straight and approaching the tub. You let out a shriek as he spoke up, immediately removing your soaked fingers from your pussy.
âCmon, now. You ainât gotta stop for me, baby. I was enjoying the show.â Still frozen from shock, you stared at him with your mouth agape. He kneeled beside the tub, his fingers caressing your soapy breasts before taking your nipple between his fingers and gently twisting it.
âBo- ah.. I didnât think youâd be home for at least another hour..â You moaned, sucking in a breath when his fingers suddenly travelled down to your clit.
âSo you decided to start without me, to deprive me of seeing and providing my gorgeous wifeâs pleasure. I see how it is.â He chuckled, pinching the already swollen nub between his thumb and index finger.
âN-no, itâs not like that.. I just couldnât wait, I needed you so bad.â You leaned back in the tub, grinding your pussy into his touch. He hummed in a way that made it seem like he didnât believe you, as insecure as he was, he probably didnât.
âCouldâve just come to the garage and found me, I wouldâve taken care of ya. Thought youâd know that by now, sweet girl.â His hand moved to your entrance, pushing two thick fingers in just enough to make you whine in frustration, not enough to make you feel good yet. You tried to fuck yourself on his fingers, but his free hand came down to keep your hips still. He shook his head in faux disappointment
âI know, I know.. I just didnât wanna bother you- Oh!â Your words were cut off by him pushing his fingers all the way in, the tips brushing against your cervix. He kept them still for what felt like forever, and you were really starting to regret not bothering to walk to the garage. You knew heâd tease you as âpunishmentâ if he felt like it. His hand tightened its grip on your hip, sensing how badly you wanted to make yourself cum.
âNot yet, baby. Have patience.â He leaned over to kiss your forehead, inhaling the sweet scent of your raspberry shampoo before slowly trailing towards your exposed neck. He sank his teeth in.. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to hurt. You yelped at the feeling, but instead of telling him off, you leaned your head to the side and exposed your neck more. His tongue traced the now visible teeth marks near your shoulder, drawing soft mewls from your lips. He started moving his fingers inside you antagonizingly slow, occasionally letting his thumb run circles around your clit.Â
âBo, please.. I just- I wanna..â You babbled, lost in the pleasure of his thick digits stretching and filling you. He ignored your pleas, not speeding up his movements in the slightest. If anything, it felt like he was going slower.Â
âAre you gonna be good? This pussy is mine.â He paused his movements and pulled his head away from your neck, so he could look at you. âSay it.â The shit eating grin on his face told you he was joking, but you decided to play along anyways, hoping heâd let you cum.Â
You nodded, turning to look away as the embarrassed blush took over your face. âUse your words, baby. Is this my pussy?â He pulled his fingers out of you to hold your face in both of his hands, making you look up at him. âWell?â
You whimpered at the loss of his fingers, nearly whining. âYes! Yes, god. Itâs your pussy, please let me cum..â
âNo god here, darlinâ. Just you and me. Move over for me, would you?â Not waiting for you to actually move, he quickly stripped off his coveralls and settled in behind you in the tub. His chest was warm against your back, his long legs on either side of yours. You could feel his erection on the small of your back. His right hand trailed back down towards your aching folds, his cold ring snipping at your skin and leaving behind goosebumps. You let yourself go limp above him as his index and middle fingers finally pressed on your clit, drawing slow circles.Â
It still wasnât anywhere near enough, but it was something. Moaning, you threw your head back to rest on his shoulder and let him take care of you. âYou need more, my love?â He asked teasingly, his chuckle tickling your neck as he kissed it. All you could manage was a weak nod and a whine. He let out a genuine laugh and moved his other hand to your entrance, slowly teasing in one finger, then eventually two.Â
The relentless pace of his fingers brought you to your peak in a matter of minutes. âGonna cum for me, pretty girl? Cmon, you can do it.â The praises murmured directly in your ear sent you over the edge. Holding your mouth open in a silent scream, your orgasm washed over you and your fingers dug into his forearms. Easing his pace, he guided you through your orgasm while pressing sweet kisses to your hairline. He kept his fingers on you until you squirmed and whined from overstimulation.Â
He conditioned your hair and washed your body, making sure to get every nook and cranny. While you rinsed yourself, he washed the dirt and grime off his own body. He got out and helped you up, before wrapping you in a soft pink towel and helping you dry off.
He was still hard, painfully so. He set you on the bathroom counter, letting the towel fall off you and stepping in between your legs. âDonât think Iâm done with you yet, gorgeous.â His hands gripped the back of your thighs, pulling you closer to him as he slid his tip between your folds, grinding against you.
