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“Ahh.” She shudders, arching, letting me tongue her pussy.
“Hell, yeah. I’m going to like fucking your little freaky ass.” I slap her left cheek then her right making them jiggle.
I bend, sucking her pussy from the back, tongue fucking her hole until she’s climbing the fucking walls, screaming my name, coming on my tongue for a second time.
Her pussy is a glistening wet welcome when I thrust inside again to the hilt. Soft, warm, pliant flesh accepts me, taking everything I have to give. Nikki melts into the bed. Her pretty ass shakes as I plow into her. I grip her hips in a crushing hold I know will leave bruises. Driving, pounding, fucking, I’m mad with lust, an unhinged desire to claim and conquer every part of her. Even though she is mine, claimed in front of both God and man, the need stabs into my chest, pushing me beyond mere want. It’s a dark possessive need to own her body and soul, the same thing that drove me to push her away because I knew that path led to destruction. Knew I would be sick with it. She makes me ravenous. There is no part of her I will not consume with delight. Now that I have her, I will feast. I want to push it away, yet still it snakes into me, hooking, leashing, claiming me as well.
Our bodies slam into each other as she starts fucking me back.
“Yes, Thi,” she moans. “Take it, take it baby, kill it, kill ittttt.” I can imagine how many times she dreamed of this. Just as I did. As the realization slams into me, I reach beneath her, stroking her clit.
“Come for me,” I urge, hitting that plump raised spot inside Nikki, driving into it over and over while I play with her.
She keens, “Thi,” strangling my dick, wringing out of me the hardest, most mind-bending orgasm of my life. I see fucking stars.
She collapses on the duvet.
I fall beside her, dragging her rapidly cooling body into mine.
“At least we have this,” I mutter, looking at the ceiling with my former best friend, now wife. An enemy I never knew I had. Never knew I’d want so much.
ChapterEight
Nikki
I don’t knowhow long we stayed wrapped together. A breeze makes me shiver a little. He pulls me close nuzzling my hair. Our bodies start to chill under the cool air-conditioning. He smells so good, a hint of honeysuckle, clover, sugar always sugar, spice, and earth.
My pussy squeezes, much as it had last year—heck, than it did when he took me earlier. He’s so dang mean. Everything about him is as ruthless he’s rumored to be. He was never this way with me until tonight. I never knew this side of him existed.
Tonight, I learned differently. Thrust out of the safe cocoon he created just for me to bask in and enjoy the great friend he was. I am no longer the girl with stars shining in her eyes for a man I knew I could never have. No, that illusion is shattered into a million pieces today.
Now, I know what it’s like to have his complete predatory focus on you in unrelenting anger. Still, he never hurt me. Well, except when he pushed inside me. Then he waited until I got comfortable. He made sure I came. He didn’t have to do that. It was sooo rough. So right. I feel the flush spreading from my face to my breasts just thinking about all the things he did to me, all the things he made me like. I curl tighter into him, feeling like I’m about to drift off.
He hugs me close for a split second before he stiffens. He pulls away. I can feel him looking down at me. Swallowing, I don’t dare look up into his hate-filled gaze. I’m done crying over him.
Moving and taking his warmth with him, he mutters, “Come on.” Grabbing my hand, he drags me to my feet. With my legs still shaky from earlier, I walk ahead of him, and he pushes me through the bedroom to the bathroom.
Heading to the toilet, I hesitate, looking over my shoulder at him.
“G’head, it’s not like it’s going to be the last time we have to share a bathroom.” Then he busies himself with starting the shower and ignores me while I see to my lady business.
“Get in the shower,” he instructs, stepping in front of the toilet to use it.
Hurrying to look away, I step under the steaming water, letting it sluice over my aching body. I don’t know what came over me to let him have me like that, but I can feel every twinge and ache now. I get the fragrant honeysuckle soap and mesh towel, then lather myself from head to toe. My body is already covered in luscious white foam when Mathias steps in, his T-shirt still on.
“Why are you wearing that?” I ask, seeing the material dampen from the spray of the shower.
“I don’t let people see my scars,” his tone is clipped, guarded. “I can still get clean with it on.”
He looks at me for a long time, his eyes hooded, as if he’s deciding what to do with me, trying to gauge my reaction. Scars? He never told me he had scars. From where? How had he gotten them?
The muscle works in his jaw, his face hardening to a dramatic degree. His top lip curls with malice. “Bathe me.” All questions die on my tongue at his demand.
“Okay.” I press my lips together at this impossible task, squeezing more suds through the sponge. “We need to switch.”
He acts like it almost pains him to death to do even this little thing, so I roll my eyes. His hand shoots out, gripping my chin in a firmer-than-necessary grip.
“Uh-uh, I won’t have any of that from you, little wife.” He growls, his hand squeezing just a little for emphasis before slipping down over my décolletage to cup a breast.
