Page 140 of The Arranged Marriage


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I slide my hand in between us, my fingers finding the front of his swim trunks and the tie at the center. With fumbling fingers, I undo it, until the trunks loosen around his waist and I’m sliding my hand down the front of him, finding his hard cock. I wrap my fingers around his shaft, squeezing him firmly and he pulls away from my chest. He thrusts his face in mine as he shoves his hand into my hair, holding me in place, his cock throbbing against my palm.

“Know what to do with it?” He thrusts his hips forward, surging into my grip.

“I think I can figure it out.” I begin to stroke him. Up and down, nice and slow, my thumb circling around the tip over and over.

Without warning he finds my mouth, kissing me. Devouring me. All the while he nudges aside my bikini bottoms, bats my hand away from his dick and shoves his way inside of me before going completely still. Holding me to him for a long, quiet moment. The only thing I can focus on is his throbbing cock buried deep inside of my body.

Despite everything. The cruelty and the threats and the hatred and frustration, this is the confirmation I needed. He still wants me.

And I want him too.

“Perry.” His name falls from my lips in a heated whisper and he swallows it, his tongue thrusting in time with the rhythm of his cock. He fucks me soundly in the pool, completely out of control, his movements sloppy and frantic, and oh God, it feels so good.

Too good.

It all happens so fast. The water is splashing around us because of our shifting bodies, and I’m moaning. Clutching him close. Squeezing my inner walls until it feels like I’ve got him locked deep.

He curses, pulling away from my lips to press his face against my shoulder. I wrap my arms around him, circling my hips, seeing stars when he hits a certain spot. He hits it again.

And again.

Until I’m clutched up and coming, panting in his ear, tugging on his hair as wave after wave slams into me. He’s breathing hard, his entire body gone stiff just before an agonized groan leave him, a clue that he just came.

The other clue being when I feel him spill inside of me.

Without a condom.

Oh no.

I shove him away from me with all the strength I can muster, glaring at him in dismay, my breathing harsh, my heart racing. He watches me, diving his hand beneath the water I’m sure to cradle his precious, just-came-inside-of-me cock.

“I felt you come.” My tone is accusatory.

He frowns, looking confused.

“You didn’t use a condom.”

“Aw, fuck.” He grips the back of his neck with both hands before he smacks the water with them. “Fuck.”

I’m throbbing between my legs, my pussy extra sensitive and my clit feels as if it’s on fire. Like I could come all over again if I just brushed my fingers against it.

The doorbell rings, indicating room service is here.

We stare at each other from across the water, the both of us still breathing heavily, the water dripping across Perry’s handsome, angry face.

“I fucked up,” he mutters as he climbs out of the water completely naked. “I’m sorry.”

I watch him go, my gaze on his nude body. How comfortable he is in front of me without a stitch of clothing on.

“Are you going to answer the door like that?” I ask incredulously.

“Yes,” he snaps, grabbing a towel from a nearby lounger and wrapping it around his waist before he heads inside the house to answer the door.

I duck under the water and swim beneath the surface, like I’m modest and don’t want him to see me. Normally I would feel that way.

But he’s seen everything, touched everything. Fucked me extra hard and came inside of me in the most careless way possible. I don’t want babies with him. Not now.

Maybe not even ever.

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