Grunting, I held my hands to brace us both as I looked up from my phone’s email.
“Mrs.Hershford,” I greeted her bluntly. “Although, now that this legal spat is over, I suppose it’s Miss…?” My words trailed off in question of what name would go with her title now that ties had been severedfromRobbie.
The silence stretched long and tense between us. Then, with a calculating look in her brown eyes that betrayed how full of shit she was, a smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth.
“Clarissa. The last namedoesn’tmatter anymore,” she replied. No sense of remorse or grief in her tone. Good. Ididn’tdoemotional disasters. Figuratively.
But physically? Different story.
Five minutes later, I found myself in the courthouse’s men’s room, pinning her to the wall next to the automatic hand dryer.
My handsroughly yankedup whatever pretentious designer dress she had on whileherstugged at my tie.Fucking pantyhose must have been made of damn Kevlar as Iattemptedto rip right through them.
One yank. One tug. Ten curses. Then, finally, the material gave way.
Growling in victory, my mouth attacked her throat, despite how the taste of her perfume dabbed on her skin churned my stomach. It reminded me of Pia.
Little beggar was hungry for more than her ex-husband’s pension as my hand found the slick folds of her pussy.
“Please, Eryx,” she whined in my ear.
Stroking my fingers through her arousal, shekeenedand whimpered. Each sound was needier than the last.
And they just pissed me off. At this rate, my cock was going to lose interest before the main event.?
With a grunt, I shifted tactics.
In just a few jerky motions, the clink of my belt coming undone joined our heavy breaths.
Clarissa was already on the hunt for my dick, clumsily pushing the fabric of my underwear out of the way. Her hand overeagerly grabbed me, fingers curling around my steely girthalmost tootightly.
Groaning, I clutched underneath her thigh and lifted it to anchor on the outside of my hip. The blunt pads of my fingers dug into her flesh. Let her bear my bruises as a badge of honor of her first post-divorce fuck.
“Off,” I snarled as I shoved her hand off my cock. Immediately afterward, I sank into the heat ofher cunt.
She shrilly cried out, taking every inch of my hard length deep into her soaked pussy. Walls clenched around me, drawing me deep inside her.
Her hands grasped my shoulders for stability as she squirmed against the bathroom wall. She opened her mouth to speak, but I cut off any coherent words when I withdrew and slammed my dick back into her.
Each thrust was fueled by frantic energy.Neededto find my release.Neededto satisfy this ache inside me, anemberthat never quite felt stoked.
Pinning her there, I braced a hand on the wall next to her head while I kept her spread openforme. My hips worked her sweet cunt into a frenzy.
Fuck, I was getting closer. Yet her damn moanswere asgrating as the way she tapped the pen against her notepad inside the courtroom.
“Shut.”Thrust. “Up.”Thrust.
I yanked the silk scarf from around her neck, wrapping it around my hand until it drew tight around her throat. Not enough to be facing attempted murder charges, but enough that Ididn’thave to fucking listen to the noises she made. It was like trying to get off to a dying elephant that was choking on a kazoo.
Taking the loose ends of the scarf, I rumpled them up and shoved the fabric into her mouth as a makeshift gag. Let thatpretty redlipstickleavea stain on her fashion accessory, while I aimed formycum to leave a stain on her insides.
The stifled noises were now nothing but a light hum ofa distraction.
Much better.
She was on the edge of unraveling for me, her body fluttering around my throbbing cock.Clarissa better hope that she finishes before I do.
My fingertips pressed into the unforgiving bathroom wall as my head bowed forward, a low groan escaping me.
