Dishonor
Thy Wife
Releasing
June 13, 2016
Self-Published
Self-Published
A Psychological Thriller of Sexual
Obsession and a Twisted Romance.
Ronni and Brad have an arranged
marriage. Six years ago, he broke off with his fiancée or else face jail time
for getting the then underage Ronni pregnant, i.e. statutory rape. The couple
has not slept together since. The spoiled Brad is resentful and can be verbally
abusive to both Ronni and their daughter who he mostly ignores.
Brad is not the only one trapped in
an unwanted marriage. Ronni was a dirt-poor teenager when her grandfather
forced her to marry the rich medical student. She is simply trying to make the
best of a bad marriage until she can finish college and be able to support
herself and Traci.
One
day after a medical conference, Brad returns home a changed man. He starts
acting like a real father to Traci who now adores him. Brad even treats Ronni
with kindness. As
her heart melts towards Brad, Ronni wonders if he is still seeing his mistress. As her heart melts
towards Brad, Ronni wonders if he is still seeing his mistress even as she
begins to trust him.
Ronni finds she enjoys
her husband spying through the keyhole of her bedroom door. She begins to
perform for him.
Once Ronni has a taste of forbidden
passion, she is addicted until Brad begins acting like a Jekyll-Hyde and his
violent outbursts return. She believes he may be bipolar, never realizing that
something far more sinister is going on, and she is playing a dangerous game
beneath the covers with Brad.
As secrets unfold, lies unravel, and
fraud is uncovered, what happened at a Philly medical convention sets off a
chain of events that begs the question, does a woman really know the cracks
beneath her husband's skin?
Well here goes, now it begins, a
devious plan concocted in Philly. “You look nice, Ronni.” Wow! My voice had
gone up as if she clenched my balls because the wife looked unbelievably sexy.
In soft light, she appeared almost pretty with her hair mussed. One strap of
her t-shirt drooped over her shoulder.
Okay, down boy! Quit picturing how
she would look with pointy nipples tingling with excitement, and legs spread
wide, hips humping. I cursed the desire welling inside my dark soul. I must not
sleep with her—ever! That was our agreement. “Ronni?” I said in a eunuch voice.
“Well, who were you expecting, Brad?
Fool!”
Next to the wedding picture was a
photo of a child, supposedly my daughter. The oldest trick in the book was to
trap a man with pregnancy.
“No one calls me a fool and gets
away with it!”
She ran towards the stairs.
My legs were longer and I grabbed
her arm, laughing at her kicking and missing.
I spun her around, trapping her with
my arms. Our bodies touched everywhere and I held her even tighter. “You smell
of jasmine,” I moaned, lowering her to the stairs and raining kisses across her
neck. Her wiggling aroused me beyond belief. I throbbed, pounding with such
pressure; all I could think of was easing my pain in Ronni. My blood rushed to
that one spot where my need was desperate. At this moment, the act was worth
any price. Guilt could come later. I closed my eyes, and muttered, “God, I
promise to say ten Hail Marys later even though I’m not Catholic.”
I shoved her hand on my pants,
rubbing her palm against me. “Please, I need you, Ronni. Feel how much I want
you. I need you so much, Ronni. Please, stroke me, pet me. Yeah, that’s it.
More!”
She quit struggling and groaned.
I removed my hand and she continued
rubbing. Squeezing. Pulling. Caressing.
My breath came in deep gasps. “Unzip
me,” I panted and tugged at the zipper of her pants, my fingers clumsily poking
her.
“Ouch, get off me you oaf!”
She slapped my cheek hard, sobering
me, making me remember who we were and that bed was out of the question between
us. “Again, Brad? You’re raping me again?”
I stood, straightening my pants and
feeling rather sheepish about the rape thing. I plunked down on a step to
conceal my throbbing arousal, looking like a petulant child. Any moment now, I
might have a temper tantrum—Ronni really should give out to her husband. She
was a tramp, just as her mother had been.
“I wish you stayed in Philadelphia
permanently, Brad, or the plane crashed,” she snapped.
I never struck a woman in my life and
clenched my hands into fists, resisting the urge to punch her. It took a minute
for my pants to deflate. I then stumbled up the stairs, banging my ankle
against the last step.
Belinda is a former Software Engineer and Web
Developer. She is a Zumbaholic. Belinda loves to create novels with twists and
turns, and love stories that will squeeze your heart. Her goal is to entertain
and touch you by making you laugh, cry, get angry: go through the emotional
experience that makes us all human and by doing so humanize her characters.
Her aim with her books is to grab the reader by the
shirt collar and drag him or her into the novel, and not let go until the end.
She hopes that the reader will not just read her story, but experience it, with
chills, blood pounding, brain bursting, etc.
Belinda was born in the Los Angeles area and lives
in Texas.
Rafflecopter Giveaway
(Grand Prize Winner will receive a
$10.00 Amazon eGift Card and a Print Copy of DISHONOR THY WIFE. Two runners up will receive a Print Copy of
DISHONOR THY WIFE.)
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