Marriage Games
by CD Reiss
Series: Games # 1
Release Date: October 25th
Genre: Contemporary Romance
“Marriage Games is one of the most powerful novels I have ever read. CD Reiss gets into the soul of her hero and heroine and never lets go. A strong, clear picture of the psychological and emotional challenges of a D/s relationship, especially in a marriage. Why it works and why it might not. Canβt wait for the next one.” βDesiree Holt, USA Today bestselling author
Synopsis:
THIRTY DAYS
Thatβs all Adam Steinbeck demands of his wife.
Thirty days in a remote cottage, doing everything he demands. After that, heβll sign her divorce papers and give her complete ownership of their company.
THIRTY DAYS
Thatβs how long he has to rediscover the man he once was. The Dominant Master he hid when he fell in love with her five years ago.
THIRTY DAYS
She wants the business they built badly enough to go to the cottage for a month. Cut off ties to the world and do his bidding. She can submit to him with her body, but her heart will never yield.
She thinks this is his pathetic attempt to repair their marriage.
Sheβs wrong.
Excerpt:
βPull your skirt up.β I said it without acknowledging the possibility that sheβd disobey. It felt good to use those words and that tone. To watch her eyes go to the floor.
βTrust me.β I said it so low she was just within range to hear it. βFive minutes. Then we donβt have to fight over the car.β
I stepped back and set my watch with a beep. It wasnβt about the car for her. The Jag was the least of her worries, but it was a tangible justification.
For the downcast eyes. For the way her breathing changed. Maybe every bone in her body was vanilla. Maybe not.
βQuit any time,β I said. βJust say the word.β
She laid her hands on her hips.
Curled her fingers.
Gripped fabric.
Pulled up her skirt.
The tops of her thighs came into view then met at the crotch. I was hard already and made no move to hide it. She noticed and stopped moving the skirt.
βHigher,β I said as if telling her how to center a picture over the couch. Higher was where it had to be. It wasnβt a request.
Up it went, revealing cotton underwear in a pink so pale they were almost white.
βNow what?β she asked.
βHow do you feel?β
βWeird, Adam. Really weird.β
βWhy?β
βBecause Iβm standing here with my skirt around my waist? Because you told me to? For a car, no less, which is creepy.β
She was so honest. I ached for her honesty.
βYouβre not obeying me for an object. Youβre obeying me so I do something. Take an action or donβt.β
βYou think thatβs not weird?β
βNo, I donβt. And we have four minutes.β I stepped forward. Part of her discomfort was in the physical distance between us. Iβd stepped away so she didnβt feel threatened, but my gaze was keeping her from relaxing. I kept my eyes on hers. I could smell her perfume and feel the shortness of her breath. βAre you turned on?β
βSex isnβt going to get me back. Iβm sorryββ
βTouch yourself.β
Her initial shock and offense lasted only a second before she pressed her lips together and reached down, shoulders angling, hand thrusting as if checking to make sure her cunt was still there.
We have hundreds of bones in our bodies, and sometimes we wonβt acknowledge the preferences of the ones that scare us.
βAre you wet?β
βA little.β
I gripped the edge of the vanity and put my lips near her cheek, millimeters from touching her.
βYou donβt love me anymore,β I whispered. βBut I could always make you wet, and you always came for me. Like our Italy vacation. In Florence. Coming back from that club, in the little alley. Against the wall. I ripped through your underwear.β
Her breathing got shallow and fast.
βI fucked you in the dark, and when you came, you screamed my name so loud all the lights in the apartments went on.β
βThat was good.β She turned her face toward mine.
When her lips nearly touched me, I pulled away just enough. βI said I wouldnβt touch you.β
βI changed my mind.β
I wasnβt fooled. Her arousal was talking. I owned her. Sheβd do whatever I told her. But I wanted something very simple. I wanted her pleasure. βTake the juice from your cunt and rub it on your clit. Make it wet.β
βAdam.β
βWhat?β
βWhatβs come over you?β
βDo it.β I felt her arm move against me. βRub back and forth. Be consistent. One-two-one-two.β
When I felt that she had it, I stepped back. She stopped. Her knees were bent slightly and her fingers had taken her cunt from the side of the crotch, not the waistband. She never ceased to surprise me.
βOne-two-one-two, huntress.β
βIs this your way of getting back at me?β
βOne-two-one-two. Let me see you come. Youβre so beautiful when you come. Youβve gone this far.β
Her body must have been able to override her mind, because she moved her finger again, closing her eyes. Her cheeks reddened and her knees bent more deeply.
βIn Florence. An hour after we got to the hotel. I came so deep in you that night. I fucked you from behind with your leg up on the dresser. I wanted to thrust my whole body inside you. I loved you that much. And I gave up who I was. Last night, at the club, I remembered what I was. I was a man who was obeyed. I dominated women, and they submitted to me. The result was what youβre about to feel. Complete pleasure.β
She let out a long, low groan, leaning on the vanity, twisting. I could have fucked her right then. I could have bent her over the counter and pounded her. But that wasnβt the point. No. Watching her hand move under her clothes because I commanded it. That was the point.
An uh escaped her throat. Years of marriage had taught me that meant she was about to come.
My watch beeped.
βTimeβs up,β I said.
Her eyes went wide. Her hand stopped.
βThank you,β I said. βWeβre done. Iβll send you the title to the car. You might want to pull your skirt down, since I canβt lock the door from the outside.β
It was hard to walk away from her panting, bent frame without tasting her cunt or even seeing more of her reaction, but I turned the corner, unlocked the door, and left the bathroom.
Add to Goodreads
Preorder Links:
iBooks: http://apple.co/2dW9o4l
Amazon Paperback: http://amzn.to/2dwsbVP
Audible: http://amzn.to/2dwrtrz
Nook: http://bit.ly/2dII5ga
About the Author:
CD Reiss is a USA Today and Amazon bestseller. She still has to chop wood and carry water, which was buried in the fine print. Her lawyer is working it out with God but in the meantime, if you call and she doesn’t pick up, she’s at the well, hauling buckets.
Born in New York City, she moved to Hollywood, California to get her master’s degree in screenwriting from USC. In case you want to know, that went nowhere, but it did give her a big enough ego to write novels.
Critics have dubbed the books “poetic,” “literary,” and “hauntingly atmospheric,” which is flattering enough for her to put it in a bio, but embarrassing enough for her not to tell her husband, or he might think she’s some sort of braggart who’s too good to chop a cord of wood.
If you meet her in person, you should call her Christine.