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I stilled the hand on her back and ran it down her silky skin to the base of her spine so I could hold her tightly as she came. Her pussy clenched around my cock as she moved her ass against my hand.
I looked down as she writhed in ecstasy.
“Christ,” I groaned, pumping my cock into her a few more times before my release overtook me.
Fucking her from behind like this was the hottest thing I had ever experienced.
Once I’d come, we stayed locked together for a few minutes, letting our breathing calm. Then, I took a deep breath, withdrew my cock, and zipped my pants.
She gasped when I turned her around and drew her onto my lap. Her dress was still bunched up around her waist, and I pulled it back down around her legs as I kissed her. Running my fingers through her tangled hair, I held her head still so I could savor the sweetness of her lips opening helplessly beneath mine, the warmth of her body heat radiating against me.
Her bottom half under the skirt of her dress was still bare, vulnerable... used.
This moment was soft. Gentle. Not me. I didn’t want her to get used to this.
“You fuck like a whore,” I said as I nipped her lip. “You had me so worked up I forgot I was going to abuse this pretty mouth of yours. Next time.”
She pulled away, eyes wide. She slipped off my lap and then slapped me across the face with as much force as she could, given the awkward angle she was still at. “You’re a bastard.”
I touched the sting on my face. “No question about it. I am.”
“I’m not a whore!” She blushed deeply as we faced the front. “I can’t believe you just?—”
“I want my woman to be a whore in the bedroom but a lady on the street.”
She positioned herself as far away from me as she could, leaning up against the door. The moment she noticed her panties crumpled up on the limo floor, she snatched them up as quickly as I had removed them. “Every day, I hate you more.”
I chuckled. “Your pussy doesn’t.”
CHAPTER 16
AMELIA
How dare he!
I had never been so angry, felt so degraded in my life, and I had to deal with my mother daily. Not even Mother could make me feel so worthless, so complicit in my own degradation.
After he dropped me off at home, I ran to my room and let out the warring emotions that boiled up inside of me by screaming in fury into my pillow.
After, when I lay exhausted on my bed, my fingers running over the smooth fabric of my duvet, I thought about what had happened and how he had made me feel unencumbered, wild.
The way he’d grabbed and pulled my hair as he fucked me, the noises I’d made. The driver had probably heard us, and I didn’t care. I wanted more of Luc. The carnal brutality of him and the way I’d chased that release as viciously as he had. I hadn’t even known sex could be like that.
Which I could live with. I was upset and ashamed by my lack of reason, but that was all biology. I could forgive myself for a moment of weakness with an attractive man because he was going to be my husband.
What I couldn’t contend with were the dirty things he whispered in my ear. How he’d seduced me to the darker side, made me burn with just a look and a few words. How my core ached for him before he even touched me.
That was unforgivable.
I was not some airheaded child who could be so easily seduced by pretty words, or in my case, vulgar words, which just made it worse. At least the words were his own and not some poorly recited Shakespeare.
I woke up the next morning sore and angry.
How dare he fuck me like a whore, again.
I was to be his wife, and he had the nerve to treat me like any other woman he picked up off the streets. He hadn’t even bothered to take me to a bed. He had just fucked me in the back of the limo and then dropped me off at my family’s estate.
The worst part, the part I could never forgive him for, was he’d made me like it.
