Page 87 of The Contract Marriage

Do I care? I smile with wicked satisfaction and devour her sensitive flesh, determined to show her what happens to my woman when she goes around in public without proper panties. She lets out a shaky breath, and her grip on my hair tightens.

Triumph cuts through me.

I pull her clit into my mouth and tongue it with the fluttering rhythm that I know drives her absolutely crazy. I want her undone—shattered. I want something more than just rings on her fingers to remind her she’s mine.

“Oh my God,” she whimpers, slapping a hand on the desk behind her to brace herself. Her thighs strain as she maintains her balance in her heels and grinds herself against my face.

I shudder, my blood overheating. God, she’s hot when she uses me for her pleasure. She drips endlessly, coating my tongue with her sweetness.

I’ve missed my wife. I’ve been coming home too late the last few days, and we haven’t had sex in too long for my taste. The second I push two fingers into her pussy and circle her G-spot, she spirals out of control. The tendons in her neck stand out as she clenches her teeth in a climax, swallowing the sound.

I kiss her pubic bone, then grab the edge of my desk and pull myself up. I unzip my fly and pull out my throbbing cock, too impatient to get properly undressed, then grip her pelvis and drive into her. She slaps a hand over her mouth.

She feels amazing, like home and love. How can she possibly think any other woman could give me what she does?

I tighten my hold on her hips and pound into her, wanting her to feel what she does to me. Panting, she clings to me. The sound of our flesh slapping fills the office. I set a brutal pace—this isn’t going to be long or lingering.

I want to mark her. I want her to mark me.

She reaches another peak and spasms around me, her pussy gripping my dick. A second later I spurt, filling her with my cum.

Breathing hard, I run the back of my fingers along her sweat-misted neck where her pulse races.

“You don’t have to wear underwear around Simon. But if you don’t, you’ll have my cum inside you,” I whisper into her ear.

She shivers. “I was supposed to mark you, not the other way around.”

“Oh, you have. Believe me.” I kiss her hard. “Now, shall we fill our bellies?”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Olivia

After straightening myself up, I step out of the office, my hand in the crook of Liam’s elbow. Emmie stares from her desk, her face pale, then quickly looks down. I shrug inwardly. I know she knows what happened in there, but I feel too good to care.

“We’re heading out for lunch. See you later.” Liam gives her a smile that says he just conquered the world.

She nods wordlessly, her eyes on her work.

We head to a taco stand near the office. It’s crowded, so it must be decent.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to take you out for lunch, though someplace much cooler than this.” He bites into his beef taco with extra cheese. Our table is just a wobbly red plastic one with equally wobbly folding chairs.

“What’s wrong with this? We’re eating delicious tacos on a sidewalk in L.A. Economical and quick.” The chicken taco I got is surprisingly good. Lots of gooey cheese with spicy salsa and juicy meat. I notice he’s holding his taco awkwardly. “What’s wrong?”

“Ah, it’s nothing. Just cut my hand a little.” He flips his right hand and shows me a flesh-colored bandage between the thumb and index finger.

Despite his words, there’s a red patch showing through the bandage. “Are you okay?” I reach over to examine his hand.

“Oh, sure. It looks worse than it is. Hurts a little when I move my thumb, but I don’t need stitches or anything.”

I stare at the hand, as though I can see through the bandage to the wound underneath. “How did it happen?”

He shrugs. “Sort of spaced out in the lab.”

“Liam.” It comes out halfway between rebuke and worry. He always seems so solid and strong, like an indestructible pillar. But the reality hits me: he can be hurt, easily, by something as inconsequential as losing focus in the lab.

People who appear unbreakable can be more fragile than those who appear weak, I think, remembering Mom and staring at Liam’s wound. This must be why he let Emmie help with the tie. Shit. And I reacted like a psycho, rather than showing concern.