Jess’s breath still came in short, uneven bursts. Her whispered admission — I want this too — had changed the air in the room. Ryan could feel it. She wasn’t fighting anymore. She was leaning in.
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Marcus’s hand trailed slowly down her back, deliberate and unhurried. “Good,” he murmured. “Now show me you mean it.”
Jess frowned, confused. “How?”
“On your knees,” Marcus said simply.
Her whole body tensed. She looked over at Ryan, eyes wide, searching for rescue, but his face gave her nothing but guilt and silent desperation.
Marcus’s tone didn’t rise, didn’t harden. It stayed calm, steady. “I told you earlier — if you want to be honest with yourself, you don’t do it standing tall. You show it on your knees.”
Jess trembled, her pride warring with her need. For a moment Ryan thought she might bolt. But then, with a shaky exhale, she slid off Marcus’s lap and lowered herself to the carpet. Her knees sank into the rug, her hands bracing against her thighs.
Ryan’s throat tightened. He’d seen her kneel like that once or twice in their marriage, in fleeting moments of play. But this was different. This wasn’t for him.
Marcus leaned forward, resting an elbow on his knee, looking down at her. “Better,” he said softly. “Now show me how much you want it.”
Jess’s lips parted. Her voice caught. “You mean…?”
Marcus brushed his hand across his own lap, the heavy outline straining against his jeans. “Start with your mouth.”
Ryan’s chest caved in, shame and arousal crashing together.
Jess swallowed hard, frozen for a moment. Her pride resisted, but her body betrayed her, the words slipping out in a broken whisper. “Please…”
Marcus smirked faintly. “Not begging me yet. But you will.” He unzipped slowly, deliberately, the sound sharp in the quiet room.
Jess stared, trembling, her breathing ragged. For the first time, Ryan saw it—she wasn’t just enduring. She was curious. Hungry, even. And that realization made his stomach twist harder than anything else.
Marcus shifted lazily in his seat, finishing unzipping without hurry, exposing himself fully. Jess’s eyes widened instinctively, her breath catching. She froze, her body going rigid.
Ryan’s stomach flipped. He saw the shock on her face, the fear, the disbelief. He wanted to leap up, to pull her away. But his own erection strained painfully, betraying him as much as hers did her.
Marcus’s voice was steady, calm. “Now you see what you’re here for. You can back out. Say the word and it ends. Or you can stop lying to yourself and take it.”
Jess swallowed hard. Her pride screamed at her to retreat, to use the lifeline he’d given her. But another voice inside her whispered something else: what if you can? what if you take this from him, make it yours?
She leaned forward slowly, her lips brushing against him tentatively. The size intimidated her, but curiosity pushed her closer. Her tongue flicked out, testing the weight, the taste. A small, embarrassed whimper slipped from her throat.
Marcus’s hand came to rest lightly at the back of her head. “Good. Don’t think about it. Just let your mouth learn.”
Her jaw ached as she took him further, inch by inch. Hesitancy rippled through her—she pulled back quickly, gasping, saliva glistening on her lip. Ryan’s chest twisted at the sight, at the sound of her catching breath.
But then Jess steadied herself. Her shoulders relaxed, as though she’d decided something privately. She leaned forward again, this time with a flicker of determination, her lips sliding lower. The shock gave way to concentration, her tongue working, her throat straining, but she didn’t stop.
Marcus exhaled through his nose, satisfied. “That’s it. Conquer it.”
Ryan watched, stunned, as Jess pushed herself further, a mix of shame and pride etched across her flushed face. For a moment he saw it clearly—she wasn’t just submitting. She was proving something, to Marcus, to Ryan, and most of all to herself.
Her gag reflex hit, her throat constricting. She pulled back quickly, gasping, strands of spit stretching between them. Her eyes watered, but when she looked up, something had shifted. There was still shame, but also something hotter, sharper—curiosity edging into want.
Marcus stroked her hair back from her face, his expression calm, controlled. “Better. You’re learning.”
Jess licked her lips, catching her breath, then leaned forward again, less tentative now.
And Ryan, trembling, realized he wasn’t watching a woman broken by humiliation. He was watching his wife discover how far she could go—and it terrified him how much she seemed to want to.
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