Cuckold Dominion

"I want you to drink this," she said, handing him the other glass. He looked at her, his eyes hooded with arousal and compersion. She loved that tension—knowing that even when he was with another man, his body still belonged to her.

He took a sip of the cognac, the warmth spreading through his chest. It was pure luxury—sophisticated and dangerous all at once. He looked at her, his mind racing. She wanted him to watch as she brought another man to orgasm in that bed, and he wasn't sure if he could do it.

She walked over to the minibar, unlocked it, and pulled out a bottle of champagne. She poured two glasses, handed one to Nasir, and popped the cork on the other. She handed him the glass, watching his face as he drank. The champagne was pure luxury—fizzing in his mouth, leaving a trail of warmth through his body.

She walked over to the bed, sat down on the edge, and looked at him. "I want you to watch me make love to another man tonight. You know the rules: don't touch a damn thing until I tell you to move."

He nodded, watching her go to the minibar. She unlocked it, pulled out a bottle of Dom Perignon, and poured two glasses. She handed one to him, watching his face as he drank. The champagne was pure luxury—fizzing in his mouth, leaving a trail of warmth through his body.

She walked over to the bed, sat down on the edge, and looked at him. "You know what this is about, baby. You've been carrying all the weight in our relationship, but tonight I want you to watch me let someone else carry the burden for a little while."

He nodded, watching her go to the minibar. She unlocked it, pulled out a bottle of Hennessy, and poured two glasses. She handed one to him, watching his face as he drank. The cognac was pure luxury—warmth spreading through his chest, leaving a trail of arousal in its wake.

She walked over to the bed, sat down on the edge, and looked at him. "I want you to watch me make love to another man tonight. You know the rules: don't touch a damn thing until I tell you to move."