Free Mesmerizing His Bride (Magical Mesmerism Book 3) by Nadia Nightside Page B

But he doesn’t seem to get it. That he’s a free, independent man who can do what he wants. I don’t like being treated like some rich hobnobbery bitch who wants to control every aspect of his life. You know? I sometimes feel that I’m marrying him only because he said...”
    Daniela seemed clearly annoyed. “He said what?”
    “That he...that he’d die without me. He was very dramatic. Melodramatic, really.”
    Truth be told, the way Charles acted toward her was about as exact the opposite as she wanted a man in her life to behave as possible. Paige had no interest in being consulted for every last decision.
    Decisions were difficult for her—there were so many variables to think about, so many people she didn’t want to offend or annoy. Society was such a delicate tapestry, woven from eight billion decisions all at once, and sometimes when she thought about adding to that tapestry it just made her mind spin.
    She wanted a man to decide everything for her. She wanted the risk and the trouble of indecision to leave her. If someone could just tell her what to do all the time...if she could just leave her will behind, lock it in a box and entrust to some big-cocked hunk who would fuck her thoughts away and never let her have a moment of panic ever again...
    She had dreams of domestication. Incredibly hot, naughty dreams that she didn’t feel she could share with anyone. They were in her head, all the time, so vibrant and alive that even right there in front of Daniela, as her friend was talking, Paige could see them clearly.
    ... Master was arriving home from work, and Paige was ready for him, kneeling in the thick shag carpet of the entry way, her wet mouth open.
    When her MasterHusband arrived home, he enjoyed a good throatfucking of his best girl. And Paige always wanted to make sure he had what he wanted.
    Her elbow-length silk gloves covered her fingers as they dug into the thick material of the carpet. A black garter, lined with white frills, connected to hot lacy stockings decorated with little patterns of roses and stars. Her corset bra only just kept her massive, shiny tits in line, but each time she giggled or shifted her hair—which was a lot—they threatened to pop out of their constraints.
    Her hair was enormously long, gathering on the ground all around her in a thick, dark mound. It looked like she was kneeling inside a shiny pool of shadow. Each and every lock was thick, fluffy, and impossibly soft. Sometimes, if she was very lucky, her Husband would cum in her hair but not tell her where, and Paige would be allowed to spend an hour or two searching through the thick strands so she could lick out the thick, hot goo.
    For someone that was inside most all of the time, her skin was gloriously tan and shiny, contrasting sharply with the bright, light, Easter greens of her eyes. Paige liked being inside, though. She loved being a kept girl, a slavewife.
    She had given up all that stupid college and career stuff. How could that possibly be important when she had a man at home to take care of and adore?
    Master had built this whole house with his two hands within a week after they had married, and Paige loved every spotless inch of it. It was so right, she thought—him building things, and her taking care of them all day to make sure they looked good. This was how man and slavewife were supposed to be.
    Finally, he opened the door. His hulking, massive frame barely fit inside—even since the day he had built the house, just weeks ago, his muscles had grown. He was gigantic. Paige, kneeling, only barely came up to his thigh, and she was not a short woman.
    She didn't mind the size difference at all. Just looking at the massive flexing of his muscles, the way they rippled and pooled with every little movement, the way they stacked and planked on top of each other, was enough to drive her into orgasm. She knew, because the other day, just for fun, he had instructed her to do it.
    Paige always did what her