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“You haven’t been out long. He might not know. Or maybe he was the one behind the shooting at the prison the day you were released.” The look on his face tells me he’s not buying it.
“All I’m saying is keep an open mind. If its Santos then I don’t think Greece is enough for him anymore. He was locked away for years without any power, and where better to get that, and more, than the States?” I tell him, needing him to know this was bigger than he could possibly understand.
“Sugar—” The cell that’s still in Calix’s hand vibrates, cutting him off. He looks down at it before handing it to me. “Private number,” he mutters before I shove it into my back pocket. “You’re not going to get that?”
“If it’s important, they’ll text,” I tell him, knowing exactly who it is.
“Look, we’re talking ourselves around in circles.” He looks out the window again before continuing on. “You realize if Santos is alive, then we’re not legally married.”
“That won’t be an issue, Calix, because if Santos is alive, then I’ll kill the asshole myself.”
* * *
My body is on fire.That’s the first thing my mind registers. I’m tugged from a delicious dream and find myself writhing on the bed in pleasure as a hard body nestles between my legs. I gasp as a thick cock thrusts inside me. He feels so damn big. My pussy feels stretched to its limits, but the burn is intoxicating. I arch up to him as his lips find mine. They kiss me with a ferocity that borders on feral. He fucks me savagely into the mattress, leaving me helpless to do anything but hold the fuck on.
When he pulls his lips from mine and sinks his teeth into my neck, I come, and I come hard, with a scream on my lips. My pussy clamps down around him, making him growl out his own release as I milk him dry.
Feeling utterly sated, I lift my hand and cup his jaw, which feels smooth under my touch. “You shaved.”
“I forgot how much you like my beard.”
My eyes snap open. Not because of the beard comment, but because the man inside me isn’t my husband. “Rémy!” I gasp before shoving him away.
He laughs and rolls off me as the horror of what just happened sinks in, followed by white-hot rage. I jump from my bed and flick the light on. I come face-to-face with the man I’ve been desperately trying to avoid. The heartbreak I had been feeling has been replaced with the urge to murder, so at least there’s that.
“You fucking asshole. What are you doing here?”
His laughter cuts off as he climbs from the bed and faces me, his cock still hard even after fucking me. “You wouldn’t answer my calls, Sugar.” There is a threat in his voice, but I’m so beyond pissed that I don’t care.
“Are you insane?” I pick up the closest thing, which happens to be the lamp, and throw it at his head. He ducks, and it crashes into the wall.
He turns back to me and grins. “Fucking then foreplay. We always did do things backwards, didn’t we, Sugar?”
“Damn you, Rémy. You have no idea what you’ve done.”
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
His eyes flash with anger as he stalks toward me. I resist the urge to back up, my own anger making me feel invincible—and a tiny bit homicidal.
He wraps his hand around my throat and pins me to the wall. “Oh, I know exactly what I did. I claimed what’s mine. Now when you fuck your pathetic husband, all you’ll think about is how he isn’t me. How he can’t fuck you like I do,” he snarls before his lips are on mine again, hard and punishing.
I feel my body respond to him even as I thrash and fight. Bringing my knee up, I aim for his balls, but the man is too quick to fall for that. He manages to deflect me, only catching a knee to the thigh, which is every bit as ineffective as it sounds. It’s enough to break his concentration, though. Once there is a sliver of space between us, I take the opening and punch him in the face before sweeping his legs out from underneath him. He falls backward onto the bed. Without giving a second thought to my nudity, I straddle his waist and punch his stupid face again and again, feeling punch-drunk when my knuckles split.
Bending down, ignoring his blood-soaked teeth as he grins at me, I glare into his eyes. “If you ever pull shit like this again, I’ll kill you myself.”
His eyes flare, but not with anger, but with lust. Before I can react, his large hands slide me down his body a fraction, impaling me on his hard cock. I yelp in surprise, but he smiles smugly at the ease with which he glides inside me.
“You’re always so wet for me, baby. Way I see it, this pretty little pussy knows exactly who it belongs to.”
I scramble to get off him, but he flips me over and rolls to cover me. “Fuck you, Rémy.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m going to.”
He tugs my hips until I’m on my knees before pressing my shoulders into the bed and yanking my arms behind my back. He holds them in place with one hand while lining up his cock against my slick pussy with the other.
“Please, Rémy. I’m married.” I try to appeal to something inside him when I realize I can’t move an inch.
He thrusts inside me, making me gasp at how deep he is in this position. “I don’t give a fuck whose ring is on your finger, Sugar. It’s my bruises on your skin, my blood on your lips, and my cum inside your pussy. He might think you belong to him, but I own you,” he growls, fucking me harder. My head is a mess—anger and desire mixed with guilt and so much regret. I try to fight my body’s response to his, but after all these years, he knows my body better than I do. He fucks me like a man possessed, never giving me a moment to do anything other than take it.
