I laughed out loud at my own joke and made my way into my room, peeling off clothes as I walked away from him. I didn’t need to turn around to know he was following and from the shuffling noises behind me, I knew he was taking his clothes off as well.
At this point I was wearing only panties and bra. I turned around to see Greg standing there, just as he had been last night and this morning—completely naked.
I bit my lip at the fact that I knew he was going to shove his cock inside of me. The way it was pointed at me with a purple and blue color meant he had had that hard on for at least a few hours. Did him being angry at me turn him on, or did my disobedience.
I slipped back onto the bed while still facing him. He stalked over, taking precise steps to get to me in the most agonizing way.
“You didn’t answer my texts or my phone calls.” He was standing in front of me now. “You smell of tequila and the way your skin looks flushed and ready for me has my anger subsiding in ways I don’t want it to.”
I had no idea what he meant, as his hands reached for my hips.
“I thought I was going to just take you the moment you walked in that door, but now…” He leaned in, and unclipped my bra and slowly slid it down my arms, baring my breasts to him, but he didn’t touch them. “I’m going to be tantalizingly slow with you. I’m going to make you beg for it.”
He leaned me back onto the bed and I sprawled out before him in just my lace hipsters.
“I’m going to show you exactly who you belong to.”
His hands moved back to my hips, and gripped at the thin fabric covering me and then ripped. The material shredded instantly and the sound filled the quiet room with anticipation and lust.
He showed me who I belonged to that night.
I belonged to Greg Moran.
Heart, body, and soul.
