Carlton always wanted her to behave a certain way. Perfect hair, perfect Stepford wife dress and a dinner ready at the end of the day. Susan wanted to burn her black shift dress with the small white flower pendent on the shoulder.
This wasn’t her. She had desires. She’d married the wrong man. One who thought lust was a sign of weakness in a person who couldn’t control themselves. But Susan burned to see her husband’s eyes hungry. She wanted him attack her as if his life depended on being buried deep inside her.
With her hands flat on the empty dining table, ass out and back arched she waited for Mr. Conservative to come home. She’d already sprayed the air with perfume and prayed for once he’d use his God-given manhood to its full potential.
“I’m home,” his deep voice carried from the front door. “Susan?”
As he rounded the corner Susan’s heart stopped as she waited. Carlton’s deep blue eyes scanned her body slowly. Taking in every inch and she smiled seeing a bulge form at his hips.
“What are you doing?” he asked with a dry voice.
“What are you going to do?” Susan countered.