“Stop,” I whispered, shaking my head. “Don’t do that. Don’t—”
“Don’t what?” His lips ghosted over my cheek, his voice a low rasp. “Don’t tell you the truth?”
Tears welled in my eyes as I stared at him. I hated that he was breaking me open like this. I hated that he knew me so well, saw past every excuse, every carefully constructed lie I told myself.
And yet, deep down, a part of me didn’t hate it at all. A part of mecravedit. The way he stripped me bare, leaving nothing between us but the truth.
“I could fuck you again, make you forget if that’ll make you feel better…That’s what you want, isn’t it?” His voice was lower now, almost dangerously soft, like he was coaxing the inevitable out of me.
I swallowed hard, my breath catching at his words, at the sheer certainty in his voice. He wasn’t asking.He knew.
And the worst part?He was right.
I could feel the heat radiating off him, the slow, taunting drag of his fingers down my spine as his grip remained firm, unyielding. He was giving me an out, but it wasn’t real. Not really.
I clenched my jaw, forcing my body to stay still, to fight the pull of him, even as the ache in my core begged for the relief he promised.
“That’s not fair,” I whispered, my voice hoarse, uneven.
Beckham chuckled, low and dark, the sound taunting me. His fingers traced slow, lazy patterns against my hip, a reminder of just how easily he could undo me.
“Fair?” he mused. “But I thought you liked to play fair, Flower. Wasn’t that the whole point of tonight? Playing the good wife? Fixing your marriage? Tell me…did it work?”
I remained still, tears streaming down my face. He wiped my cheek with his thumb, a heavy sigh escaping him.
“Nothing about this has ever been fair, Flower. Not for you. Not for me. But since you’ve suddenly had a change of heart—”
I barely bit back a moan as he ground his hips into me. He let out a sadistic smile, watching me like he already knew how this would end.
“Tell me to stop,”he murmured.“And I will.”
I stared at him, my pulse hammering. He watched me, the lust growing in his eyes as he lifted my shirt, revealing my panties. His thumb found my clit, brushing it in slow, teasing circles.“Go ahead,”he murmured, watching me squirm beneath his touch.“Tell me.”
Tell him to stop.
Tell him to let you go.
Break the cycle.
Tell him you don’t need this.
I parted my lips, the words fighting at the edge of my tongue—but nothing came out.
His grip tightened, and I felt his smirk against my skin before he whispered,
“That’s what I thought.”
Leaning over his desk, I could barely think straight as he fucked me from behind. My mind had gone to mush. Fully consumed in him, tears streaming down my face in a constant river, legs trembling as he used me for his own pleasure. I could only watch as his wine glass that had gone virtually untouched rippled every time he thrusted into me.
Feeling his cock slip in and out of my aching core, I felt blissfully sated. His hands roughly forced me against him, the anger of my actions for the night evident in his brutal force.
“It’s going to be a long fucking night for you,” he muttered, making sure he was deeply seated inside of me. I held back a sob as he never let up his brutal pace, reminding me this was what I wanted. Instead of wanting my husband, wanting our family, I wantedthis.
“You can cry all you want, baby. Still doesn’t change the fact that your pussy is creaming all over my cock.”
Grabbing my phone from the counter, he opened it, scrolling through it as he continued his torture on me. Close to my release, I sniffled pathetically, as he grabbed me by the hair, yanking me up to arch further into him as he leaned over me. He held the screen in front my face.
Gavin
