AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m about to use it to make my wife come.”
I shake my head, ignoring the way I get a tickly tingle in my body every time the bastard calls me his wife. “Don’t play coy. You know what I’m talking about.”
“Roses are beautiful, just like my wife is.”
“Argh! Shut up!”
He chuckles and shoves my hands out of the way so he can cup my breasts. “Come on, Georgie, this is supposed to be our honeymoon phase.”
“I don’t think most wives want to kill their husbands the way I want to kill you.”
He pinches my nipple, making my breath hitch. “Sure, they do. That’s why they call it makeup sex.”
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
He treats me to a rare, charming smile, and my belly does a stupid cartwheel. Does he have to be so damn gorgeous? And playful right now? It’s annoyingly disarming. Especially because the man is rarely, if ever, playful.
“I hate you,” I mutter.
“You may think you do, baby, but your body doesn’t agree.” He slides me back and forth over his hard cock, over his piercings, much the way he did last night, and holy mother of kittens, does that feel so flipping good.
“I can hate you and fuck you.” At least that’s what I keep telling myself. “Your wonder dick has never been connected to your brain or your heart. Why should now be any different?”
“I already told you everything is different.”
He grinds up into me, pumping against my pussy, practically slipping in each time, and I want him to just fuck me already. I don’t want him to talk or say perfect things or look at me like this. Like I’m all he sees. Like this time, it really is different.
The weight of his eyes holds me in their possession, and the knowing grin that passes his lips simply pisses me off.
“You’re not getting my pussy.”
He laughs. Rubs me until my clit glides over his barbells. Then he reaches up and yanks on my hair until my face is forced down, and my lips connect with his. “The mistake you make is thinking this is your pussy when it’s actually mine.”
He shifts me, and with a harsh breath and a deep thrust, he plunges inside me, all the while keeping my face right with his. Daring me to deny it. To deny him. He knows I can’t. Lenox Moore has always been my weakness. It’s the thing I hate most about myself. It’s why I’ve kept my distance all these years. It’s most definitely why I didn’t want to move in with him.
Part of me knew we’d eventually end up here.
“Don’t fight it,” he growls when I hold my body still. “Let me fuck you. Or better yet, you fuck me. Use me, Georgia. Make yourself come using my cock. Do it,” he commands when I still don’t move. “Punish me the way you want to punish me. The way I deserve for you to. Take out all your anger, pain, and aggression on me. Make me feel all that I’ve done to you.”
“You want me to hate fuck you?”
He bites my bottom lip before he sucks it into his mouth and then slowly releases it. “Whatever it’ll take to get it out of your system.”
Whatever it’ll take to get it out of my system? What? Hating him? My scorn?
You’re wrong. It changes everything between us.
There’s more to this with him. I know there is. I can practically taste it on his lips as he bites and licks at my mouth. But with him inside of me like this, with how full I am of him, it’s impossible to tease it out. He wants me to punish him? To fuck all my anger, aggression, and pain out?
I roll my hips and grind my pussy against him, using his pelvic bone and the base of his cock to rub my clit. He smirks triumphantly, but I’m about to use him like he’s my sex toy, and my toy is only a giver of pleasure and never a receiver of it. The nice thing about Lenox is that he’s a good boy and never ever comes before I do.
He starts kissing my neck, and I pull back because his mouth on me isn’t just sex. It’s mind-twistingly incredible, and right now, I’m trying to hate fuck him. Only I’m not good at it because I’m moving slowly, grinding, undulating, and his hands are on my tits, rolling and pinching my nipples, squeezing them as he stares up at me in wonder. His eyes are dark and hungry, and I can see he wants to take over, to control this, but he’s not. He’s letting me fuck him any way I want to.
And the power in that is heady.
This is on my terms. It’s all about me and not about him. And before, so much of our—whatever you want to call it—that we had was about him. He’d call or text, and I’d drop everything to be with him. We’d fuck on his terms in his way, and that was that. He never took me out for dinner, and he never spent a ton of extra time with me. It was sex and only sex to him, and I was young and stupid and in love with him.
Then he broke my heart, and I hated him for the woman I had allowed him to turn me into. I swore I’d never do that to myself again. Not ever, and now here I am, fucking him again. Only… this time I’m in control. I have the power between the two of us.
