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How beautiful would her skin look with those red marks. With my palm imprinted on her like a tattoo. Fucking divine. It would look even better with my cock inside, spreading her wide open for me and me alone.
And for a second, my train of thought terrifies me. I always loved it hard and fast. I loved letting it all out during sex, but Viola hated that. She told me I was a deviant. Not normal.
However, that fear dissipates almost as soon as it comes because my Ursula sticks out her ass towards me some more, silently offering it, and I take it. I lean over her nearly naked body—sans the panties—gather her hair in my left hand, and whisper into her ear. “Stay still, Kira. Stay still and enjoy every second of this.” I give her hair a little tug as her eyes shut closed, and her breathing turns even more ragged, full of anticipation.
“Will you fuck me already, or should I go out there and find someone less talkative.”
The palm of my hand connects with her wet pussy with a resoundingslap,and she stiffens. “I said, stay still, and you can also shut up while you are at it. But please feel free to moan and scream.”
I slap her drenched folds again, drawing a delicious moan out of her. “You like that, my dirty witch, don’t you? Yes, yes you do,” I draw my finger through her pussy which is gushing with a new, fresh wave of arousal, and then I lean back to take that ass. To mark her with me, and my hand connects with her silky skin hard. Hard enough to turn crimson red instantly, and my cock hardens some more. But when I tear my eyes off her ass, I see Kira’s posture morph into a stone. The one who doesn’t breathe. And that’s when I come to my senses. When that fog that she veils me in dissipates, I question if I misread her body language. If she hates what I have done.
If I hurt her.
Fuck. Maybe I am not normal after all.
“Kira,” my voice is much softer as I lean over her once again, and that seems to bring her out of whatever trans she was in, but she is still stiff as hell.
“Just fuck me already, won’t you?” she bites out, and I want to punch myself.
What is going on with her? She is almost petrified right now.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.I shouldn’t have done that. I might hate her, but I don’t want to cause her any discomfort, and clearly, I am. I thought she was on board with my roughness, however, her body language says otherwise.
Despite my weeping dick, I bend down, pick up the pants that are still around her ankles and start bringing them back up. The motion makes Kira turn around immediately.
“What are you doing?” she asks me, that mask of coldness and indifference back on her face.
Yeah, I fucked up alright.
“Dressing you back up.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“Levidis.” Her tone turns menacing. Mad. Furious. Just as my mood takes a dive in the other direction. I feel absolutely miserable about that slap. I thought it wasn’t that big of a deal. I thought my ex was making it all up, but obviously, I thought wrong.
“I’m sorry, Kira. I shouldn’t have gotten that carried away. It won’t happen again.” As soon as I get her bra and shirt in my hands, I hand them over to her. “I will be waiting for you outside.”
She doesn’t say anything else as I slip out of the room and stand guard while she dresses up. What the hell was I thinking?
I can’t do this. I couldn’t go there with my boss no matter what, but then I went and took it a step too far.
By the time Kira comes out all dressed and put together, the paparazzi are gone, and so is Steven. Hopefully, forever and this scam can be all finished. Another hour of Kira firing and blacklisting the current manager of BluBerry, and we are on the flight home.
I pretend to be asleep when, in reality, my head is spinning. I am confused and lost and just so fucking tired.
Kira doesn’t say a word to me the whole flight. She doesn’t speak when we land and when we get inside her car. Only once Henry has pulled up to Conte de fée does she say one phrase, “Get ready for service.”
I nod and do as I am told.
Evidently, the news from this morning had already made its public appearance because the entrance is flooded with morepaparazzi and hungry cameras, looking for a glimpse of her or maybe us and for them, she takes my hand as we walk inside, dropping it like a hot potato as soon as the doors close, and we are out of sight.
The tension between us is pliable the entire time we are in the kitchen because, of course, she decides to work alongside us tonight. As if my mind isn’t spiraling out of control as it is. As if her silence on the plane wasn’t enough, she decides to continue this game at work as well.
The whole kitchen is staring at us openly, not even bothering to hide their curiosity, but once again, Kira is mute. Not one vile word or insult comes my way.
During my break, I go into the breakroom and call Victoria, wishing her a goodnight and promising to be there as soon as possible and feel the bucket of guilt wash over me anew. I need to stop this madness. I need to forget the sea witch that haunts my thoughts. I need to concentrate on my family. My daughter.
