At the same time, the other calloused hand reached roughly into her panties, rubbing her clit as if rubbing off a scratcher ticket.A thousand thoughts...ran through her mind. Was she being assaulted? She still had the knife in her hand! No, she knew those calloused hands and that musky, sandalwood cologne; she gave that to him every year for his birthday. She knew it was her husband. And she knew that this was one of his fantasies, to take her in the kitchen. But he never said he dreamed it would. In fact, if he hadn’t been in charge I’d probably have orgasmed myself into an exhausted coma. I’d come pretty close to doing this on my own in the past—days when every hour of self-pleasure just fed the next, until my libido was so revved, my body so sensitive, that only a serious interruption, or drugged sleep, could cut me off. Aaron was the first lover to understand how much this bored me. I’d been sleeping with men who were as easy as I was. I lost my respect for them once I took my. More

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