She calls my bluff and spins on her heels before placing her hand on the door handle. “Forget I asked.”
She’s about to push it open when I grab her by the throat and pull her back flush to my front. With my other hand I cup her pussy, and her breath catches. “Fuck yes,” she moans.
I whisper into her ear, “Is this where you want me?” I tighten my grip on her neck and slowly run my middle finger through her. She’s swollen and dripping wet. “Where you need me?”
Her breathing deepens as she relaxes back into me. “Yes. Please. God, I need to be touched. Touch me, Daylen. Touch me everywhere with your big, rough hands.”
She places her hand over my lower one and pushes my finger into her tight, slick warmth while tilting her hips to deepen it. “I need to come so badly. You have no idea.”
My hand slides down from her throat and grabs her breast, twisting her nipple until it’s nice and hard. I add another finger inside her pussy, and together they push easily in and out of her slick channel while my thumb finds her clit. My lips latch onto her neck, tasting her unique sweetness.
My cock is painfully hard and leaking. I rub it through her ass cheeks in hopes of gaining some relief. I’m annoyed with how my body reacts to hers. I want to hate doing this with her, but I can’t. It’s not just that she’s hot and I haven’t had sex in several weeks. I think there’s something about the push and pull of our relationship that stirs something in me. I’ve always had it easy with women. I thought I liked the easy, compliant type, but it turns out that this infuriating, mean bitch turns me on like no one else ever has. There was a level of passion when we were together that I’ve never achieved with a woman before. I assumed it was the after-effects of the boner shake, but my attraction is just as strong right now as it was then. Maybe even stronger, considering how terrible the past fewweeks have been between us and how much I’ve truly missed her.
I get into a rhythm, stroking her inner walls while working her clit and hardened peaks. Her hips gyrate to my movements while the sounds leaving her mouth are feral. I guess she really did need this.
Her tits feel slightly fuller than I remember. Heavier. Regardless, they’re undoubtedly the most perfect pair ever created. I’ve never been around a woman with more sex appeal. She oozes it in every movement she makes.
In what feels like mere seconds, she’s exploding all over my hand as wave after wave crashes over her trembling body. Hearing her scream my name has moved to the top of the charts as my favorite music.
When she’s done, she turns around so our eyes meet. Water trickles over her long, dark eyelashes that frame her green eyes so perfectly. They’re a slightly deeper shade of green right now, but I can see them very clearly oozing with the same torment I’m feeling. She wants to hate this as much as I want to, but she can’t help but feel the passion and chemistry we so obviously share.
We breathe the same air for several long beats with our lips nearly touching but never meeting.
She whispers, “I want to hate you.”
I whisper back, “I want to hate you too.”
She takes several long breaths. Oh, how I’ve missed the scent and taste of her sweet breath. We kissed for hours that night in her apartment. It was probably the only tender thing we did. I love the way she kisses. It’s aggressive and passionate.
I can feel her swallow as she looks up at me with pleading eyes. “I need you to fuck me like you hate me, Daylen, because you’re going to hate me again soon.”
I tilt my head to the side in confusion. Why would she say that? Why would I hate her again? Is she assuming I’ll hate heragain once our marriage is over? Is that what the ice queen treatment has been all about? Self-preservation?
I rub her lower lip with my thumb, and her whole body shivers. Goosebumps spread all over her tan, soft skin.
Needing to reassure her, I breathe, “I don’t think I could ever hate you again, Kennedy, no matter what.”
Pain crosses her face. What’s going through that enigmatic head of hers? I have no read on her right now. She tells me she wants nothing to do with me, that having sex was a mistake, and now she’s naked in my shower begging me to fuck her like I hate her because I’m going to hate her when it’s over. Is she going to blow me off again when we’re done? I can’t handle that. Maybe we should talk before this happens. I need clarity on our situation.
She reaches for my cock, but I grab her wrist. “Don’t.”
She jerks back in surprise. “You don’t want me?” There’s no edge to her tone. She thinks I don’t want her.
“You know I do, but you’re messing with my head. You hurt me when you slammed the door in my face,” I admit. “I’d be crazy to let you do it to me again.”
Tears well in her eyes. “You are the last person on this earth that I want to hurt.” She cups my face so damn tenderly. “My feelings for you were beginning to run a little deeper than I’m accustomed to. It took me by surprise.”
“Then why did you end things before they truly got started?”
“We had an expiration date.”
“Had?” Her referring in the past tense is bizarre.
She throws her arms around my neck and presses our bodies close together. Her nipples rub against my chest. I love having her soft body on my hard one. “I have missed you so much, Daylen. The past few weeks have been horrible for me. Please, I need you. When we’re done, we’ll have an honest conversation. I promise. I need to feel you inside me again.”
I’m conflicted, but I’m powerless to her when her naked body is close to mine.
This time when her hand reaches for my cock, I don’t stop her. She begins to stroke me, and her touch feels so good I nearly weep like a baby.
