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“Fuck, I can smell how wet you are.”
“And you’ll taste it later.”
And this is the woman I married. A confident, sexual siren that is vocal about what she wants every time.
“Come now, first,” I demand. “Come all over my fingers,” I tell her as I slide beneath her panties, rubbing my fingers through her smooth cunt. Her sex clenches, sucking me in deeper and it’s taking everything in me not to throw her over my shoulder and run for the nearest bathroom. “That’s my girl.” I grin as I feel the beginning of her orgasm. The song has sped up, everyone moving faster to the beat, but Olivia and I are still almost frozen in place, moving slowly as I make love to her with my hand.
“Oh my God, Clarke!” she cries out and I run my hand up flicking her clit before giving it a light pinch and she explodes. “Holy shit.” Her eyes are squeezed together, her full lips parted and I’m ready to come at the sight of her. Her skin is slick with sweat, her curls, wilder and more untamed and I know she’s seconds from putting it up. My eyes dart to my wrist, remembering how I used to wear one of her hair ties around it when we went out in case she needed it. I know one isn’t there, and I frown thinking about all the times in the last six months I haven’t been able to take care of her.
“Hey, why the face?” She smiles, pressing her hand to my cheek as I slide my fingers out of her. “You just made me come. Pretty hard, I might add.”
I push my fingers through my lips, swirling my tongue around them and savoring the taste of her. “I was just thinking about all I’ve missed this past year.” I shake my head. “But this isn’t the conversation for the dance floor.”
“You won’t miss anything else?” Her lips are still parted and I see her tongue peeking through to wet her bottom lip.
“Nothing could keep me away from you,” I tell her.
She smiles before something catches her attention behind me because she frowns and instantly I’m wondering what’s caused her grief. I go to turn when she grabs my face, pulling my lips down to hers and crushing them together. “Let’s go find Lys and Wren and grab a drink?”
You have GOT to be kidding me.
Fury runs through my veins, goading the very drunk girl into potentially causing a scene should the opportunity arise. I knew I shouldn’t have taken two back to back tequila shots with Alyssa on top of the whiskey I had, but I knew Alyssa needed to calm down, and alcohol had the power to make her more bubbly and not ask so many fucking questions.
So now I’m drunk and staring down my husband’s ex-mistress from across the room. She’s not looking at me, but we’ve locked eyes several times as I dare her to approach us. I down the shot that the four of us take before Bennett hands me a glass of water. I stare up at him in question and he raises an eyebrow at me asking me to test him. “You just came all over my hand in the middle of the dance floor. Drink the water, Olivia, or I’m not fucking you here.”
“Good one.” I snort and take a sip of the water he handed me. I’m not sure if she’s staring at us but I wouldn’t put it past her, so I decide to give her something to look at. “You know you love fucking me in clubs. You always have.” I take a long sip before setting it on the bar, grateful that Wren and Alyssa had saved some space for us. I run my fingers up his chest and push him against the bar just as another song comes on. I begin moving against him again and his arms wrap around me, spinning me around and pushing me forward so I’m bent almost completely over. I hear Alyssa cheer and I know she’s probably only a second from doing the same against Wren and sure enough, when I look over, she’s pulling him towards the dance floor.
I want to stay in sight of Amanda, so I continue to grind against him. He pulls me flush against his chest and drops kisses to my bare shoulder. “Fuck, I love you.”
I melt under his words. The orgasm. His promise of what’s to come. His protective nature. His possessiveness. It’s all too much. I’m about to turn around to look at him when she’s close. Much closer.
She’s wearing a bright red dress, her blonde hair pulled into a topknot, her lips painted almost the exact color as her dress with heels almost as high as mine. Her breasts are on display and lifted higher and for a second I wish mine sat as perky as hers do.
Small boobed bitches always have the perkiest tits, I swear.
I ignore my subconscious, knowing my husband loves my breasts. I don’t think Bennett has even noticed what’s about to happen the way his lips are trailing over my skin. “I’m ready when you are.” He groans in my ear. “You’re killing me in this damn dress. I’m seconds from sitting you on top of this bar and sticking my head under it.”
My knees shake and he tightens his grasp. My body is on the verge of explosion with all of the feelings coursing through me.
Lust. Anger. Jealousy. Possession. Fear.
I’m somewhere between wanting my husband to fuck me and wanting to attack the woman he’s also fucked. My heart is racing and I feel a bead of sweat trickle down my neck, that Bennett must notice because I feel his tongue lapping up the moisture. “Clarke…” I start and then she’s ten steps away.
Five.
Two.
“Bennett, we need to talk,” her voice yells over the music, but she’s close enough that we can hear her clearly. His head snaps up away from me, and while I can’t see his face, I know it’s one of disgust.
“What the fuck?”
“You won’t talk to me!” she screeches.
“Some would take that as a sign,” I snarl and her blue eyes dart to mine. Hatred floods her features and as much as I’m not proud of it, the look on my face matches.
She swirls her straw around her drink before taking a sip, staring at my husband seductively and I almost lose it. His hands tighten around me and pulls me harder against him, keeping me in place. Trust me, I’m not moving.
“I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to Bennett. I’d like to talk to him without you around.” She looks at me and I can’t even stop the growl that rumbles in my chest.
