“Rosanna,” he rasps, leaning forward to kiss me with his Judas lips.
“No.” I shove him back and resume roughly jacking him off. I got mine, so I’ll give him his. But no more. His head tips back, the corded tendons in his neck stretching taut with every groan that hits the ceiling. He’s like a stupid tatted sex god with his arms and legs hung over the sides of the tub and his hair that’s all messed up from my fingers.
Fucking damn the irresistible man.
“Kiss me.” Connor grabs my wrist as he leans up again, halting my motion, but I smack him away and push him back again, ignoring those two little words. My fingers graze over his nipple, and he grabs my hand to capture it over his heart.
That traitorous heart.
He likes a bit of pain, does he? Fine. I’ll gladly give him some. Just like that time in his workshop, I wiggle my fingers over to circle the small beaded nub. His cock jerks in my grip as he hisses a low curse when I suddenly pinch his nipple and give it a twist.
“Fuck it all, Rosanna!” he bellows, his massive biceps flexing with restrained power. “Kiss me, woman.”
“No. Lay the fuck back down.” I’m not done. I let it go only to torture it again. And again. And again. Then I move to the other side to do the same, not letting up on my hard stroking of his cock. And when I think the thickness in my hand can get no harder, I’m proven wrong when I dig my nails into his chest and drag down to his abs, leaving red streaks as I go. His hips thrust wildly upward in my fist, curse after curse flying from his lips.
A malicious urge comes over me, and I do it again, even harder. But this time, I don’t stop. Not even when I reach his groin. Easing up only the slightest bit, I run my nails over the veiny length of his jerking cock until I get to the head. Then I squeeze him tightly and polish the exposed tip with my palm with rough motions, taking all my anger out on the most sensitive part of him.
And he lets me. He lays there and fucking lets me punish him, his fists clenched and chest heaving as he holds himself down by his own willpower.
And then he erupts, milky white semen filling my hand and dripping down into the water. But I don’t stop palming his sensitive cockhead. Not now that he came. The words I swallowed down earlier explode out of me, just as Connor’s orgasm did. “This what you want? You want to take a woman so she can be a pleasure slave for you?”
He shifts with a deep moan at the post orgasm torment, but I slap his abs, my anger turning to tears that silently streak down my cheeks as I rub harder and yell at him. “No! You lay there and you fucking take it. That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?” Why else would they feel the need to kidnap women?
He jerks and jolts with choked sounds into my hand until I can’t take it anymore. Abruptly, I shove him away with a sob and almost trip over his long legs on my way out of the tub. Roughly drying off, I wipe away hot tears, pissed that I didn’t even get to shave. Lotion squirts out too quickly into my palm and drips onto the floor, but I don’t care. I’m getting dressed, and then I’m going to bed.
Alone.
“Oh, no, you fucking don’t.” Two arms slam over my head to meet the wall as a wet Connor towers over me, seething with unsettled tension as he drips water onto the floor. “That’s not what you’re here for, and you fucking know it, woman.”
A screech leaves me as I’m tossed over his shoulder. “Connor fucking Shay, you put me down right now!”
“So, now you’re talking to me? That’s good. Progress.” He carries me out of the bathroom, ignoring my pounding fists and the lotion that slowly slides down his back. A flash of heat to my ass precedes his warning. The man just fucking spanked me! It happens again when my knee makes contact with his stomach. “I suggest you lower your voice, though, so you don’t wake the babies up. And quit fucking trying to get away from me.”
I suddenly find myself flat on my back on the bed with my angry husband on top of me and between my legs. My naked, angry husband. “I’ve taken it easy with you, Rosanna, but you’re not even meeting me halfway.” He gives me more of his weight and pulls my hands up over my head before slamming his cock into me. “Not even letting me explain.”
It feels so good, so painfully perfect, that my eyes fall shut of their own accord. A feathery sensation smooths over my face. His lips. They brush over my own, nipping at the corner of my mouth, my chin, my ears.
I turn my head, not wanting to look at him as he moves in and out of me, but he softly palms my wet cheek and pulls my unwilling gaze to his. “I love you. You fucking own my heart, kitten, even though you’re breaking it right now.” He swoops down to capture my mouth in a hard, claiming kiss. “You are my woman, and I am your man.”
No. What the fuck is he doing? I tense under him, but it only serves to make him groan in tormented pleasure as my inner muscles clench around his still-hard cock. “Stop it.” My hand itches with the urge to cover his mouth and block the words, but I can’t move.
His hold on my wrists tightens as he smooths kisses over my face. “With this marriage, I lay a claim on you stronger than the heat of the sun or the pull of the moon.”
“Shut. Up.” I writhe under him, gasping as he grinds down on my clit.
“Listen to my words, baby...listen. I’m sorry that I hurt you, but fucking listen to what I’m telling you,” he pleads in a prayer against my lips.
His stupid words. “You told me to listen to your actions instead, remember?” I quietly sob, tears falling now from the heavy emotion that cracks my heart. Actions speak louder than words.
And just like that, a montage plays across my mind as I cry into his neck. Reels and snippets of past events, all in the blink of an eye.
The way he wrapped his jacket around me.
Held me through my morning sickness, vomit coating his shirt.
Taped Ana and Eli’s ultrasound pictures back together before they even had a name.
The absolute wonder on his face when he felt them move the very first time.
