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I should have cried. Been angry. Felt something. Anything other than the relief that filled my lungs with fresh air. How did you mourn a man who’d already been a ghost your whole life? His presence haunted me enough when he was alive. I wasn’t about to let him torment me in death.
The door creaked open, and Anniston peeked her head in. The angel checking in on her devil. Barefoot and sundress on, no bra. I knew it. Even after a solid year of waking up next to her every day, that face still made my dick hard.
I never told her about her mother and didn’t plan to. I knew firsthand how unfair it was to pass the sins of the parents down to the child. That wasn’t her demon. It wasn’t her penance to pay. I’d wasted enough time with Anniston because of revenge. The queen was dead. I had my girl. There was no need to pour acid over a wound when it had already been closed up. She was going through enough shit with her father.
“I thought you might need a drink.” Anniston held a bottle of bourbon in one hand.
“I needyou.”
She grinned as she sauntered across the room, the bottle dangling between her fingers. “I come with the drink.”
I ran the palm of my hand over my pants, down the length of my erection. “I’d prefer you just to come.”
She walked behind my chair, trailing a fingertip along the arm and up the back, then took a fistful of my hair in her hand and yanked my head backward. “Open,” she said, holding the bottle over my face.
Okay, Little Rebel. I’ll play along.For now.
I opened my mouth and she tipped the bottle. Warm amber liquid ran like a river over my lips and chin. Down my throat and chest. I opened wider, savoring the smooth taste as it poured into my mouth.
She sat the bottle on my desk, then clicked something on her phone. The bluesy introduction to Rihanna’sLove on the Brainechoed through my office. How the fuck? She must have linked up to my sound system. She planned this.That sneaky little shit…
Anniston circled around to the front of my desk, removing my laptop, notebook, and pencils, and setting them on the floor.
“If this is your way of asking me to fuck you on my desk, the answer is yes.” It was always yes. The desk. The kitchen counter. The bathroom counter. It didn’t fucking matter. If her pussy was there for the taking, I took it.
I lost my fucking breath when she climbed on top of my desk on all fours then dropped her elbows, leaning down in front of me. Ass in the air, tits in my face, her eyes locked on mine. A motherfucking lioness going in for the kill.
“You’re playing with fire, baby.” I clenched my jaw tight and shifted in my chair, fighting every fucking primal instinct inside me.
She brought a finger to my lips, shushing me. Fucking shushingme.
“Good. I like it hot,” she replied with a smirk. And then she stood the fuck up and started dancing to the music. She rolled her hips, riding the beat the way she rode my dick. Her hand drifted up her thigh to the bottom of her dress, pulling it up over one ass cheek. No panties. Fuuuuuck. I rubbed my dick through my pants, squeezing it hard and flexing off the chair, as I imagined burying my cock in her tight, hot hole. She grabbed a handful of her hair, sweeping it off her neck, and bit her lip. The way she moved, the way she closed her eyes and parted her lips while her hands roamed over her body. She danced like I was touching her, like she couldfeelmy hands on her body, my mouth on her skin, my dick her cunt. She danced like one of my girls at the club. Scratch that—better than my girls at the club.
Where the fuck did she learn how to do that? Hell-to-the-motherfuckin-nah.
I bolted out of my chair.
She pressed a tiny foot to my chest, shoving me back down.
My eyes narrowed into slits.Oh, baby, you are going to pay for that.
She turned around, bent at the waist, flipped her dress up and put that perfect fucking ass in my face. Her head peeked through the crack in her legs, and her hands ran up the inside of her thighs. “Isn’t this what you like?”
“You’re what I like.” I stood up, daring her with my eyes to make me sit down again. She licked her lips and brought her hand to her pussy—that perfect, smooth pussy, wet and ready. I pulled my hand back and smacked her ass. Hard. Hard enough to leave a hot red handprint. Then I smoothed it with my palm as I brought my mouth to her center and ran my tongue from her clit to her asshole. “I’m going to fuck you here…” I speared my tongue in her cunt, then along the seam of her pussy, all the way to her ass. “…and here.” I teased her pleated hole. “Until you tap the fuck out.” I slapped her ass again. “You hear that, baby?” I sank my teeth into the tender flesh just between her thighs. “I’m going to make you scream.”
She climbed down from her stage like a good fucking girl, and I didn’t waste a single second grabbing her by the shoulder and bending her over my desk. My fingertips trailed down her spine. It seemed like a gentle touch. It wasn’t. This was the calm before the storm. I was giving her a moment to prepare. Her hands gripped the edge of the desk. She knew.
I unfastened my pants and freed my cock. My hand fisted around the base as I flipped her dress up over her ass; that round, delicious ass, now red with my handprints. In one savage thrust, I impaled her. No going back. The animal had been uncaged.
“Fuck,” She cried out.Thrust.“Chandler.”Thrust.
“That’s right, baby.” I wrapped her hair around my fist and pulled her head back. “Tell me who the fuck owns you.” My other hand wrapped around her throat, using my grip as leverage to destroy her pussy. Hot. Tight. Wet. And all fucking mine.
I drove into her, over and over, with unrelentless pounding, knocking the goddamn bottom out every fucking time. She grunted and moaned, sending vibrations from her throat to my hand. I squeezed tighter. Her cries got louder.
It didn’t get better than this. The feel of her pulse pounding at my fingertips, her tight cunt strangling my cock, the sounds of her moans drowning out the music—fucking heaven. I didn’t deserve her. I would never deserve her. But she was inexplicably mine.
“Marry me.” The words tore from my throat and ripped out of my mouth before I could stop them. I stilled mid-thrust.
