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Apr 21

Trophy Wife

Robert Fischer x Wife (Female Reader)

Hi everyone! Me and @lau219 decided to team up after seeing this photo, since we agreed it reminded us of our dear Robert Fischer. We wrote a smutty oneshot where a female reader and Robert are just married, but our reader feels a little neglected. She takes things into her own hands in letting him know, causing him to wait for her at home as seen above. We'd love to hear what you think! I tagged my Peaky Blinders taglist, let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

Five weeks.

Five Goddamn weeks.

It’d been five weeks since they’d last had any quality time together. Five weeks since they’d had an actual conversation, shared a meal together, or gone to bed with each other. And that meant feeling like she was an acquaintance being kept at arm’s length rather than like a wife. Missing out on the closeness and connection of their periodic nights of cuddling and pillow talk, or of relaxing and unwinding together after busy work days or on a rare lazy weekend.

It also meant it’d been five weeks since they’d even properly kissed, let alone had sex. And seeing as they’d only gotten married three months ago, this was not how Y/N planned on their marriage starting out.

This wasn’t the first time this had happened — quite the contrary. Even back when they were dating and then eventually engaged, Robert often got into periods of time like this that were a product of both his own doing and commitments and business trips inflicted by his job. He had enough of a say in his schedule, though, that the “workaholic” title would come up and was the gasoline for the fire whenever the two of them got into an argument about it.

Y/N felt he would prioritize work over their relationship at times. She would accuse Robert of not caring enough about the right things, and he would say she was being unreasonable and needed to be more understanding of the demands placed on him. But once it would bring her to the verge of tears and she’d state that she simply missed him, didn’t want him spreading himself too thin, and didn’t want them drifting apart, the argument would fizzle and Robert would finally concede that he worked too much. He’d then keep himself in check with work for a while, until the whole cycle would inevitably start again, because no matter how much he loved Y/N, that workaholic gene was impossible to obliterate.

He’d never been so absent — physically, mentally, emotionally — for this long before, though, and the fact that she couldn't even remember the last time he'd said “I love you” without it being an autopilot response when he was quickly ending a phone call between them was a new low. And this time, Y/N wasn’t sad, wasn’t on the verge of tears.

No.

She was pissed.

Not only at the fact that it had occurred, but that Robert seemed to be completely oblivious to it, and that apparently, getting married seemed to make him think that he could pay even less attention to their relationship now.

As a reminder displayed on her phone’s calendar that she and Robert were supposed to have dinner with an important investor from Fischer-Morrow that evening, Y/N narrowed her eyes in resentment at the notification. But then she got an unexpected message from Robert a few minutes later, and when she saw what he’d texted, she was furiously dumbfounded.

I’ll meet you at the restaurant at 7. Don’t be late.

Y/N gave a loud scoff of offended disbelief and was ready to throw her phone across the room. The first time he’d contacted her all day, and it was to condescendingly tell her to be on time for his work dinner? Did he even realize that this was the first time they’d communicated today? That this was no less distant sounding than the brief two minutes she’d gotten him on the phone yesterday when he was between meetings? That he hadn’t noticed or apologized for his absence lately and that his expectation of her to now still show up and appear as if everything was normal had her feeling not like his partner and the woman he loved, but like a trophy wife? Her heart hurt, and she suddenly had a hard time believing it had only been three months ago that she’d so happily walked down the aisle to this man, and now he was treating her like she was transactional arm candy.

Quickly, Y/N marched to the front door and then grabbed her bag from the glass table in the large entryway.

Well, she thought bitterly as she looked down at Robert’s message again, if he wants a trophy wife, then that’s what he’s going to get.

*******

It was odd for Y/N to not reply. He’d sent her the message about dinner right as his meeting had begun an hour and twenty minutes ago, and now as Robert looked at his phone again as he exited the building, he saw she still hadn’t answered.

He hoped she wouldn’t be late. He'd forgotten to remind her about it when they’d talked on the phone briefly yesterday, and with his schedule completely overfilled, they had yet to physically cross paths at home, since Robert hadn’t been there to do anything but sleep over the last few weeks. Along with his typical workaholic tendencies, things at the company had been particularly busy and tense, and the last thing he needed was for Y/N to arrive late for dinner. A good impression needed to be made for this investor, and Robert had promised that his new wife was as eager to meet this couple as they were to meet her.

At the thought of Y/N, Robert looked down at his left hand and fiddled with the wedding band that had resided on his finger for the last three months. A smile slowly spread across his face as he recalled the elation he’d felt when she’d so happily accepted his proposal, and then when he’d seen her walking down the aisle towards him at their wedding.

His cell phone ringing distracted Robert from his current thoughts, and his driver pulled up along the curb as he answered it. Getting into the vehicle, Robert continued his conversation all the way to his office building, and when he got to his floor, he saw that his secretary, Pauline, was waiting for him at the reception desk.

She clearly had something to tell him, and when Robert finished his call, he looked up at the older woman expectantly, taking the documents she was holding out to him as she spoke.

“Your next meeting's been moved from the bank to the Neiman building. Something about a maintenance issue in the bank’s conference room,” Pauline said as she walked with Robert towards his office. He had forty-five minutes to kill before leaving for the meeting.

“What else?” Robert asked as he looked down at the papers she’d given him.

“Your wife called,” she said, and the oddity of that fact made Robert lift his head.

“What? When?” he asked, furrowing his brow.

“About ten minutes ago,” Pauline replied.

Robert’s frown deepened. Why had Y/N called his office instead of just replying to his text or calling him directly?

“What did she say?” he asked, still confused.

“She told me to tell you that she won’t be able to meet you for dinner tonight.”

“What?” Robert asked again, having heard Pauline, but not believing it.

“She told me to tell you that she won’t be able to meet you and the Hannock’s for dinner tonight,” Pauline repeated. “She didn’t say why.”

“Are you sure?” Robert asked, his brow still furrowed and immediately wondering what was going on.

Pauline nodded.

“Did she say she’d been trying to reach me?” Robert asked then, wondering if perhaps Y/N had tried but somehow failed to get a hold of him.

“No,” Pauline now shook her head. “She didn’t say anything other than to please tell you that she won’t be at dinner tonight. When I asked her if she wanted me to have you call her, she said that wasn’t necessary.”

Still completely confused, Robert simply turned and headed into his office. Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket again, he opened his contacts and quickly called Y/N’s number. When she didn’t answer after several rings, he hung up, then tried calling again right away, and when she still didn’t answer, he left a voicemail.

“Pauline just told me you’d called and said you’re not coming to dinner. What’s going on? Call me back.”

But after waiting ten minutes and getting no response, Robert wasn’t sure whether to be worried or frustrated, and he then opened the messages between himself and Y/N and sent her another text.

Robert: Where are you? What’s going on? Why aren’t you coming to dinner?

After about five minutes, Robert felt relieved as his phone chimed with a response message, but that relief was quickly vanishing when he saw Y/N’s message, which didn’t make anything clearer.

Y/N: I’m not coming.

Robert then tried calling her again, but once more, she didn’t answer, so he texted another message.

Robert: Why aren’t you answering your phone? What’s going on? Are you alright? Y/N: You of all people should know what being unavailable looks like.

Robert shook his head to himself as he typed.

Robert: What are you talking about? What’s going on? I need you to be at dinner. Y/N: That’s unfortunate. For you. Robert: Would you just call me? I don’t have time for this.

But after sending that message, Robert didn’t get another reply, and as the time came and went before he had to leave for his next meeting, he was getting more and more agitated. Now that he knew Y/N was clearly safe and well, he wanted to know what the hell she was up to. Today was not the day for her to pull whatever it was she was trying to pull.

As he rode in the back of the car to his next meeting, Robert was debating what to say to Y/N next when he suddenly saw a message from her appear where he was poised to type. Actually, it wasn’t a worded message, but rather a picture.

Squinting as he looked down at the photo, Robert soon realized it was an image of a receipt. Tapping on the picture to enlarge it, he saw that the merchant at the top of the receipt was Gucci, and when he looked down to the line that showed the total spent, his eyes briefly widened.

$5,768.67

What the hell?

Glancing up the lines again, he saw that that amount had been the sum of only three items: a tote bag, a pair of shoes, and a single dress.

But before Robert could even finish fully processing what he was seeing or write her a reply, Y/N was sending another receipt photo, this time for Chanel, and with a total of $11,948.17

What the hell was going on? She’d never done something like this before. In the entirety of their relationship so far, Y/N had never gone on any kind of crazy shopping spree or spent this kind of money, and whenever she did intend to make a hefty purchase, they’d always discussed it first. Of course, Robert had basically no financial limitations, but Y/N had never been so fast and loose with his money, and despite the fact that they were now married, she still had been very considerate about money and had always discussed it with him before making any big purchases.

Still in shock, Robert quickly sent a message.

Robert: What are you doing?

But rather than words, Y/N simply sent another receipt.

Dior. $8,936.97

Robert tried calling her again, but it just rang.

Robert: Would you answer your damn phone!

Another receipt. Hermes. $6,762.77

Robert: What the fuck is going on, Y/N?

Finally, she typed back an actual answer.

Y/N: If I’m just going to be your trophy wife, then I ought to have the proper items to play the part. Robert: What the hell are you talking about?

But the car had arrived at the destination as Robert had sent that message, and he was forced to temporarily refocus as he exited the car and headed inside the building. Once again, Y/N had gone silent, and he was feeling incredibly agitated as he entered the room.

All throughout the meeting, Robert kept glancing at his phone while simultaneously trying to understand what the hell Y/N was doing. What the hell was she calling herself a trophy wife for? When had he ever made her feel that way? Sure, he sometimes worked more than she wanted him to, but he had never made her feel like she was just his accessory. Had he?

When he got another message from her with the buzz of his phone, Robert’s eyes practically popped out of his head when he saw what she’d apparently spent at the jewelry store.

Cartier. $42,347.29

Muttering an apology, Robert excused himself from the meeting and stepped out into the hallway to message Y/N again.

Robert: I don’t know what the hell is going on, but you better not spend another cent until you actually talk to me. Y/N: How ironic that YOU’RE demanding we actually talk. Robert: What are you upset about? I just asked you to come to dinner for Christ’s sake. Y/N: Clearly, I haven’t spent enough for you to get the point. Robert: Just go home. I’ll meet you there and you can explain it to me. Y/N: I shouldn’t have to explain anything. Robert: Go home. Y/N: I’ll go home when I’m good and ready. Robert: Go home NOW. Y/N: I feel another purchase coming on. Robert: I’m gonna be at the house in a half hour. I expect you to be there when I get home.

Robert then re-entered the meeting room, but it was only to apologize once again and then excuse himself from the meeting. After heading back to his awaiting car and getting in, he also called the Hannock’s and apologized for the short notice, but explained that he and Y/N would have to reschedule their planned dinner, as something very unexpected had come up. After ending his call, Robert looked and saw that Y/N hadn’t replied to his last message to her, and he was cursing as the car made its way towards their house.

His agitation only grew tenfold upon arriving home and quickly noticing Y/N wasn’t there. Walking into the large living area, Robert pulled back the heavy drapes of the huge picture window to look out onto the back patio and driveway that curved around the house.

Removing his suit jacket and tossing it over the piano bench, Robert then reached one hand up to loosen his tie around his neck as he retrieved his phone from his pocket with his other hand and checked it again.

Still no response from her.

Robert: Where are you?

No reply.

Robert: I’m already home and I better see you pull up in the next 10 minutes.

But rather than a verbal answer, he was yet again receiving a screenshot of a receipt.

Yves Saint Laurent. $24,273.09

Quickly doing the math, Robert noted that at this point, Y/N had spent just over $100,000.00

He made one final attempt to call her, already knowing she wouldn’t answer, and after ending the ignored call, he typed her a final message of his own.

Robert: HOME. NOW.

But fifteen minutes later, Robert was still waiting and watching for her at the window, and he was just about ready to get in his own car and go find Y/N when he finally heard the sound of her car gradually slowing up the drive. When he looked through the window again, he watched as her white convertible came into view, and Robert felt a rush of anger as he could clearly see by Y/N’s pointedly aloof facial expression that she was deliberately taking her time and knew that he was watching her from somewhere in the house as she got out of her car.

But that anger was accompanied by a wave of arousal that coursed through him as he watched her and knew she was purposely exuding her bratty attitude with her confident, taunting body language as she sauntered towards the house.

Robert saw as their butler went out to greet Y/N and helped her gather the array of shopping bags from the backseat of her car. As they made their way towards the back door, Robert was already turning and moving across the room to intercept Y/N once they got inside.

While Y/N maintained an air of careless confidence as she walked up to the house, she was admittedly nervous to face Robert. She knew by his messages that he was pissed to all hell, and she also knew that she’d taken this whole thing a little bit too far. But with him being so arrogantly clueless about what exactly she was mad about, she had given into the impulse to keep pushing him. After all, it served him right to be sassed, ignored, and given this harsh spending surprise when he’d essentially abandoned her for the last five weeks, especially when that was only a third of the amount of time that they’d even been married.

Walking through the back foyer, Y/N paused to remove her sunglasses and set her handbag down. Their butler then relieved her of the bags she was carrying and assured her that he’d take everything up to her and Robert’s bedroom. It was when they made it to the threshold of the living room that Y/N saw Robert standing near the sofa in her peripheral, his eyes narrowed and glued to her, and she tried to disguise the nervous skip of her heart as she addressed their butler.

“Thank you. You’re welcome to head home for the evening once you come back down.”

As the butler made quick work of depositing her bags upstairs, Y/N said nothing and kept her eyes forward towards the staircase, intentionally ignoring Robert and then shifting to remove her sandals from her feet as she waited for the butler to return. Of course, Robert knew Y/N was intentionally ignoring him, but he still kept his position by the couch and his gaze squarely on her as they waited for their privacy.

“Have a good night, Mrs. Fischer. Mr. Fischer,” the butler politely nodded to each of them as he made to leave, and after voicing a final thank you to him, Y/N still kept her gaze in his direction until they heard the sound of the back door closing and locking, and then both she and Robert knew they were finally alone.

Still trying to maintain her aloof confidence, Y/N swallowed and drew in a breath before she remained at the threshold of the room but slowly turned to face Robert. Something in his eyes sent an odd combination of arousal and anger through her, but she maintained her also present annoyance with him and defiantly crossed her arms in front of her chest as she finally looked at him.

Robert turned toward her. In his right hand, he nursed a glass tumbler, half-filled with what Y/N assumed was inevitably his favorite, very expensive whiskey. Their eyes locked for a tense moment before he spoke to her.

“So,” he mused, still maintaining their stare. “Gucci. Yves Saint Laurent. Cartier. Am I supposed to be amused?”

The words were cold. Harsh, almost. Uttered in the same tone he used when speaking to businessmen during work hours, when he intimidated and negotiated to get his way. It annoyed her. She wasn't one of his company colleagues. Or business competition, for that matter. She was his wife.

“Like I said,” Y/N replied, upholding her attitude, “if you treat me like a trophy wife, then I’d better look the part.” She then shrugged carelessly and turned to go upstairs, but Robert stopped her almost immediately with another statement.

“We’re not done,” he said matter-of-factly, and when Y/N hesitated but didn’t turn around, he finished. “Look at me when I'm talking to you, missy.”

At his words, Y/N slowly turned back to him, partly offended and partly aroused as Robert was growing clearly even more frustrated with her. When she met his eyes once more, her heart skipped, but she quirked her brow.

“Don't you give me that look,” Robert said then. “Do you have any idea what your dramatics cost me today? Besides that pathetic little shopping spree you shoved in my face? How unfocused I was, thanks to you? I’m supposed to be in a meeting right now.”

“Oh really? I didn’t think anything could break your focus from your precious work,” Y/N said with bitter sarcasm. “But maybe next time, you'll think twice before going weeks without noticing me.”

Robert glared. “What did you say to me?”

“Maybe next time you'll think twice before going weeks without noticing me,” she repeated, slower, more enunciated.

Robert narrowed his eyes, then lifted his glass slowly. After he took a sip, he let the liquid roll around in his mouth as he processed her words and continued to glare. His behavior, the whole thing, made Y/N nervous. He was evaluating her as if she was just another one of his clients awaiting his willingness to even address her.

“I'd say inviting you to dinner is the opposite of not noticing you,” Robert finally remarked dryly.

“You didn’t invite me, you ordered me,” Y/N countered, crossing her arms over her chest. “And a business dinner with your investor? Oh, such romance. Help me, my knees are weak,” she finished sarcastically. “I’m your wife, Robert, not your business associate.”

At that, Robert tilted his head.

“This is what comes with being a Fischer,” he said with a scoff. “If you were hoping for Prince Charming, you should have married someone with less responsibility on his shoulders.”

“So, you’re saying that expecting more than a passing glance from my husband in over five weeks is asking too much? Well, maybe we should never have gotten married!” Y/N spat back. “I'm not a chore, Robert!”

Robert took a deep breath, his glare deepening.

“You don't mean that,” he said in a raspy voice, his expression one of anger accented with pain. Y/N felt bad seeing him like that, her words obviously hitting close to home, but she was too ticked off to stop now.

“Oh, don't I? Maybe you didn't mean it, when you said 'I do'," she finished.

At that, Robert slammed his glass down on the piano top, which made Y/N jump.

“Say that again,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding as he slowly stepped toward her. His movements were predatory, ready to strike when pushed too far.

Watching him, Y/N stammered a little. She felt sure of herself at first, but seeing Robert radiate with anger, the intensity obvious, her confidence faltered. As she stammered again, her heart skipped as Robert shot forward and roughly grabbed her, pulling her by the crook of her elbow.

“Ow! Robert! Hey! Stop it!” Y/N yelped and tried to pull away, but Robert wasn’t having it. He continued moving, dragging her up the stairs behind him, to their large and opulent bedroom.

As he pushed open the door, Robert could see that the butler had put Y/N’s shopping bags on the bureau next to the bed. Still holding her arm, he dragged Y/N towards them, then yanked her in front of himself and shoved her forward, pointing at them.

“Is this the gratitude I get, after you bought all that?” he demanded, nearly shouting. “Is this treating you like a chore? Is it? Letting you blow money left and right on whatever the fuck you want and mocking me about it?”

Y/N scoffed.

“This means nothing to you; don't pretend like you’re suddenly on the verge of bankruptcy.”

“No, but that dinner you caused us to miss might be the start of it!” he said agitatedly as he backed away from her and then paced back and forth a couple times. “Do you even comprehend the weight on my shoulders?! No! You just complain and go shopping!”

Y/N felt hurt at Robert’s words. Was that all he cared about? After all the theatrics and stress and anguish, still all he thought about was work and not the point she was trying to make.

“What do you expect me to do?! I have to call my husband’s secretary just to get his attention!” Y/N said, clearly on the verge of tears. “And even then, I can only get you to respond when it involves money or when you want me present for a business deal. So, if I’m going to be just your trophy wife, then you can just be my ATM card.”

At that, pain and regret flashed in Robert's eyes, but then his look changed to one of cold anger.

“An ATM card? Is that so?” he said in a cool, stern voice.

Upon hearing him and seeing his darker expression, Y/N felt her arousal increase as he used that tone on her, which wasn't very often. As he continued, her pulse quickened.

“Well then, that means this thing between us is…transactional. That means you, dear wife...” he practically spat out the words, “...that means you do what’s expected in exchange for my money.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and huffed.

“You wouldn’t have even noticed if I hadn’t sent you the receipts,” she said, and she began to walk past him, toward the bedroom door. “Good night, Robert.”

But before she had cleared his path, Robert shot his hand out and grabbed her wrist tightly, then yanked her back to him. As he did, Y/N shrieked.

“But you did send me the receipts” Robert said lowly, their faces close. “You intentionally made me mad. And since I served as your ATM card, it’s now your turn to uphold your end of the transaction, and you know that the first part of that includes addressing me a certain way.”

Y/N’s heart was pounding and her lower half throbbing now, unable to deny the way it affected her when Robert got like this. Respectively, Robert could feel his heart pumping and his cock already twitching as he looked at Y/N and could feel both the defiance and the passion coming from her, but also the hint of nervousness.

“Robert…” she began, her voice slightly unsteady.

“Wrong answer,” Robert said, and then he was causing her to shriek again as he quickly, unexpectedly turned them and whipped Y/N forward, flinging her onto the bed and watching as she landed on her back with a bounce, then tried to compose herself as she hoisted herself up on her elbows to look at him as he stood before her near the mattress.

“Better try again, and if you’re smart, you’ll include an apology with it,” he said.

Y/N looked back at him, her eyes narrowed.

“Why should I?” she taunted, knowing it would push his final button.

At that, Robert only responded with a clench of his jaw, and in the next second, he stepped to the bed and reached out, violently grabbing Y/N’s hips. As she squealed at the pain of his tight grip, Robert flipped her over onto her stomach and then grabbed a fistful of her hair with one hand. He heard Y/N gasp, and then he used his free hand to sharply spank her three times.

Y/N’s heart skipped yet again, and after each strike, she let out a sound that was part pain and part arousal, which she foolishly hoped Robert didn't hear. But even if he hadn’t heard, the telltale action of Y/N subtly yet obviously arching her back and lifting her ass in search of more gave her away, and Robert smirked to himself as he released Y/N’s hair to roughly push her deeper into the mattress and then spank her ass again. He smirked once more as Y/N released another gasp and needy moan.

“Now, what do you have to say to me?” Robert said, his hand threateningly pressing her into the mattress again.

“I’m sorry!“ Y/N cried out, but Robert roughly fisted her hair again and then smacked her ass a final time, then pulled her head back to speak in her ear.

“You’re forgetting something,” he whispered darkly.

“Sir!” Y/N cried out, nearly sobbing. “I’m sorry, Sir!!!”

“That’s better. You're learning. And here you had me thinking all you were capable of was swiping a credit card,” said Robert tauntingly. “Speaking of which...” He then briefly released her for a moment, reaching over to grab her shopping bags and tossing them on the bed near her head, causing Y/N to flinch. “Let’s see what all that swiping got you, shall we?” He then reached back down to Y/N’s thighs and grasped the hem of her dress, lifting it up over her backside and smirking when he saw the white, lace-trimmed panties she wore underneath that he’d bought for her. They were innocent. Virginal. Just what he liked on her. “I sure hope you got yourself some fresh panties,” he murmured as he glided his hand over the soft fabric on her ass and noticed the sheen of her wetness on them, “because you’ve completely ruined these.”

“Siiirrr,” Y/N whined at Robert’s words and the feel of his hand caressing her ass, at which Robert smirked to himself again as his cock stiffened even more.

“Take them off,” he ordered Y/N as he pulled his hand away from her ass, and when she hesitated for a moment, uncertain if he would touch her again first, Robert spanked her again, causing Y/N to let out another needy sound.

“Now,” he demanded.

With a whimper, Y/N shifted on the bed on her stomach to reach beneath herself and pull the panties off. As soon as they cleared her hips, Robert reached out and grabbed them, yanking them the rest of the way down her legs and off her. He then lifted them to his face, inhaling her scent and feeling her wetness against his mouth, rumbling out a sound of intensely aroused satisfaction. He then stuffed them in his pants pocket as his eyes returned to Y/N’s bare lower half.

“Already so wet, aren’t you, darling?” he murmured, spreading Y/N’s legs apart and then kneeling on the floor between them. “Seems like you enjoy the idea of being a trophy wife a lot more than you want to admit.”

Robert leaned forward more then, his shoulders pushing against the back sides of Y/N’s knees as he lifted his hand and reached out to stroke his fingers through her pink, glistening folds. He chuckled darkly as he heard her whimper and squirm, and he stroked her again and teased her entrance by prodding his fore and middle finger just barely inside her, her arousal generously coating his digits. When he pulled out and then slid his finger down to find and tease her clit, Y/N writhed and mewled in need.

“Please, Sir! Please! I need more!” she panted.

“That's your problem, isn't it?” Robert replied, his voice controlled despite the throbbing of his cock inside his pants. “You always want more. More of my time. More of my attention.” He rubbed her clit with his thumb again in tight circles, and Y/N moaned and whimpered, arching her back. She already felt at the very edge of her peak, but then Robert pulled back and watched with satisfaction when she thrashed around for more friction.

“Siiirrr, please!” she whined out pathetically.

“This is how frustrated you made me today, making me wait, making me wonder,” Robert taunted, rising to lean over her on the bed and speak in her ear. He then reached down and stroked over her folds again, intentionally avoiding her clit that time. In response, Y/N reached beneath herself and tried to touch herself, and at the sight of it, Robert undid his tie, tugging it from his collar and swiftly grabbing Y/N’s wrists to bind them. When she was snug and secure, he let her tied hands fall to the small of her back again.

As she twisted her wrists and felt the fabric of Robert’s tie against her skin, Y/N’s heart pounded and she whimpered again. He’d never done this to her before, but there was no denying the additional layer of arousal that it brought her as she felt him yank the knot to ensure she was helpless.

“All those texts, no answer. All those calls, no answer. Leaving me wondering, not being able to focus on work...” Robert admonished her. He reached down and grazed over her clit with his fingertips again, using his free hand to hold her hip and keep her in place.

At the touch, Y/N let out a moan that was downright pornographic, and then she exhaled a sob of frustration as she felt Robert shift himself lower again.

“Please, Sir! Please!”

“You need me, don't you? Say you need me, like a good girl,” Robert murmured, and he blew cool air over her folds as he knelt between her legs once again. At the feel of it, Y/N gasped and bucked her hips, trying to chase the sensation.

“I need you! I need you, Sir!” she whimpered, and then she almost sobbed in relief when she suddenly felt Robert lap at her folds with his tongue and then found her clit. Again, he brought her nearly to her edge, only to cruelly pull away again at the very last second. As Robert heard her whine of frustration, he smirked against her pussy.

“You didn't give me any reprieve, did you? What makes you think you deserve it now?”

Y/N shook her head against the bed, ashamed and aroused to the core, her tears of desperation wiping on the duvet. She both loved and hated that Robert made this mixture of extremes so exquisite.

Standing up once more, Robert unzipped his pants and took his cock out, stroking himself lazily as he looked down on Y/N, his precum dripping onto his hand.

“The tables have turned, haven’t they? Hmm? Not quite so sure of yourself anymore, are you? Maybe I shouldn't let you run around all by yourself anymore. Maybe I should always keep an eye on you,” he murmured as he used his fingers to tease her folds again, then play with her clit.

Her hands still bound, Y/N squirmed around, whimpering and moaning.

“Please! I need to cum!” she panted, her cheeks flushed with both her arousal and also at the shame of how much this treatment turned her on. Turned them both on. But she couldn’t help it.

“I know, sweetheart. But you were so high and mighty all day and look at you now, reduced to begging and crying on my sheets,” Robert said, stepping closer between her legs. “But I’m afraid you forgot the most important part.”

“SIR!” Y/N practically screamed then as Robert taunted her and hesitated. “SIR, PLEASE! I need to come!!!”

At her outcry, Robert smirked again, then positioned himself behind her. He reached out and grabbed the first shopping bag and held it near Y/N’s face.

“You need to thank me,” he corrected her. “Tell me what's in here.”

As Y/N tried to answer, Robert slid the head of his cock just inside her entrance, making her moan instead, but a sharp slap to her ass again made her focus.

“The Gucci!” she cried out. “It’s the Gucci!”

“The Gucci,” Robert nodded with confirmation. “I’m waiting.” He then roughly rutted forward, bottoming out inside of her, then thrusting in and out once, but then not moving again.

Y/N moaned pathetically, as if this treatment was making her even more wet. She needed him to keep moving.

“Thank you, Sir!” she panted, squeezing her eyes shut as she clenched around his cock.

Upon hearing her, Robert let out a sound of approval and then a groan as he felt Y/N clench around him, but he resisted the insane urge to move inside her again and he reached out for the next shopping bag.

“Yves Saint Laurent,” he said. “So classy for such a pathetic little thing.” He rutted against her ass and smacked her again. “Do you think the shop workers had any idea of the truth? That the oh so confident Mrs. Fischer is actually a whiny brat who thanks her husband with her pussy?”

Robert roughly thrusted in and out of her again, once, twice, three times, and then he stilled for a moment, his fingers hovering over Y/N’s clit.

“Say it,” he demanded lowly, panting as a lock of his hair fell over his forehead. He looked down to see Y/N’s arousal shining on his cock, and he gave a near growl as he felt her squeeze around him again, sensing how close his fingers were poised near her clit.

“Thank you, Sir!” she said weakly, her voice muffled by the covers as she pressed her face into the mattress in desperation.

“I can’t hear you,” Robert tormented her.

“Thank you, Sir!!!” Y/N forced herself to turn her head so her voice was clearer. As she laid her cheek against the duvet, Robert felt that familiar rush of affection and arousal course through him as he saw the shimmer of the tear at the corner of Y/N’s eye, but also noted how she wantonly bit her lip and arched her back yet again.

“How about where you decided to really push it?” Robert said then, and the bag he grabbed with his free hand was the one with the Cartier logo scripted across it. He then used the hand still poised by Y/N's cunt to give her clit a harsh pinch.

“Ahhhh!” she shrieked out, and Robert nearly fell forward atop her back at how tightly she squeezed and tugged around his cock at the pinch he gave her. In response, he gave a single violent thrust in and out of her in retaliation.

“Oh God! Sir, please! I need—”

“You know what you need to do,” Robert cut her off. “After everything you pulled today.

He gripped her hips and pulled out nearly all the way before slamming back inside her. “I want another thank you, and then an apology.” He leaned forward to hover his mouth near her ear once more. “And it better be a damn good one.”

With that, Robert fully pulled out of Y/N, then grabbed her hips again and roughly flipped her over, seeing her eyes widen as she landed on her back beneath him, he hands behind her. As their eyes met, Y/N’s heart pounded, and when Robert grabbed her hips and pulled her to him and positioned himself at her entrance once more, she couldn’t stop the plea that left her mouth.

“Please, Sir,” she whined out, bucking her hips.

“That doesn’t sound like a thank you or an apology,” Robert gave her a taunting smirk, prodding her folds with the head of his cock but not penetrating her.

“Thank you, Sir!” Y/N cried out, looking at Robert with a pounding heart, wishing he’d lower his handsome face and violently kiss her and slip his cock back inside her. “Thank you for everything, Sir!”

Finally, Robert slowly sank himself back inside Y/N, relishing the slick, tight warmth of her, but not giving her what she fully wanted just yet. He harshly squeezed her hip, causing her to squeal in pain.

“Where’s the apology?” he said.

“I’m sorry, Sir!” Y/N quickly obliged, bucking her hips again and squeezing around him as Robert released her hip. “I’m so sorry! I was a bad girl, and I’m so sorry!”

At that, Robert hoisted Y/N’s lower half higher, lifting her thighs and positioning her at the perfect angle. His mind was clouded by his insane arousal, and he reached out to tweak and rub circles on her clit again before he then was pistoning in and out of her at a rate that had them both panting and gasping for air. With fumbling fingers, they each took turns working Y/N’s clit until she was squeezing her eyes shut and crying out in pleasure as she came, clenching around Robert with a near debilitatingly pleasureable tug on his cock that had him releasing a guttural roar as he thrusted several more times and then spilled himself inside of her.

After several moments of nothing but panting breaths from each of them, Robert could feel Y/N’s pussy still fluttering around him, and as he looked down at her, he could see the bounce of her heart in her chest.

“There's my good girl,” he panted and nearly smiled as he pulled back from her.

Still shaking, Y/N let out a quiet sob, her body on complete overload. Robert then moved so that his cock was right near her mouth, and he encouraged Y/N to sit up, then he untied her wrists.

“A final show of gratitude would be for you to clean me up,” Robert said then, and without hesitation, Y/N scooted to the edge of the mattress and parted her lips, licking and suckling on Robert’s cock, tasting their mixed juices as he guided himself inside her mouth while she looked up at him. With a soft chuckle, Robert lifted a hand and stroked her cheek, and at the affectionate gesture, Y/N began to cry real tears.

At the sight of her tears, any remainder of Robert's harsh demeanor melted away, and he quickly reached out to encourage Y/N to lay back down on the bed, going with her. Laying down next to her, he then gathered her in his arms, and Y/N immediately curled into him, burying her face in his chest and continuing to softly sob, her tears a mix of emotions.

“Don't cry, baby. I don't want to fight,” he whispered softly.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N rasped between sobs. “I didn’t mean what I said. I was upset. I just want you to pay attention.”

“I know, I know,” Robert replied, stroking the back of her head. “I’m sorry, too. We'll talk. Really talk. Things’ll be better. I promise.”

He then moved his mouth to kiss her temple, and after he did, Y/N shifted to meet his eyes.

“I love you,” they both said at the same time. Taglist:

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