He looks at me like I’ve just slapped him in front of everyone in the city. What is he so upset about? There’s nothing unfair about what I said. Then I realize I also lied to him just now—because I’m not okay with his seeing other women, even if he’s in love with them.
I need to go to my room before I say anything else that I don’t mean.
He lets go of my arm. Before I can make my exit, he loops his hand around my long hair, threading his fingers along my skull. His mouth crashes against mine. I keep my lips closed, but his teeth scrape the tender flesh, and his tongue probes. The air in my lungs grows thin and fire blazes through me, more anger than lust. I bite his lower lip, but some sanity within me pulls me back before I cut him deep enough to make him bleed.
The bite doesn’t make him pull away. A deep growl vibrates in his chest, and he clenches my hair tighter. He ravages me, moving his tongue in like he’s trying to fuck me with it. The heat unfurling in my chest becomes more lust than anger. And it pisses me off.
I slap at his hard shoulders, but it just hurts my hands. That only fuels my frustrated wrath. I grip his hair and try to pull him away, but he’s too strong. He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me close, until his erection is pushing against my belly.
Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you,I rage as embarrassingly hot slickness pools between my legs.
Since I can’t stop him, I pour all my fury into the kiss, tightening my hand in his hair until it has to hurt. But he doesn’t retreat. His cock grows harder and thicker, and I realize he welcomes the pain I’m doling out.
He grinds against me through the clothes. “Do you think I’d be this hard if I were fucking somebody behind your back?”
His eyes are steely and dark. They warn me to choose my words wisely.
But I’m beyond being wise. Caught in the vise of his grip, I can still shrug. “You’re a man in his prime.”
“You little bitch.”
I bare my teeth in an ugly smile at his bald words. I like them better than polished lies.
“You know I’m constantly hard around you.”
My mouth dries as the tension of the day drains away. The pulse in my neck flutters. A desire for the sexual oblivion I know he can give seeps through me. If he sticks his hand under my skirt, he’s going to feel how wet I am. The raw lust twisting his face is honest. And I can’t resist it. “Congratulations. What do you want me to do about it?” It’s intended as a taunt, but the words are breathless.
“I want you to realize there’s no one else.” He places me on the kitchen island, then pushes down his shorts and underwear in one jerky motion. His cock springs out, the veins on the thick shaft pulsing. “This cock is yours.” He pushes my skirt up and rips my panties. “And this pussy is mine. My exclusive property.”
“Screw you,” I shoot back.
“Say what you like, but your body doesn’t lie.” He runs a finger down my folds and shows me the glistening liquid.
The triumph blazing his eyes doesn’t do anything to help rebuild my filter. Everything spills out, uncensored. “So what if my body’s slutty? Do you think that means anything?”
“It means you’remyslut.Mywife.” He lifts me off the island, wrapping his arms around my torso, and slams into me.
All the breath gets knocked out of me. Pleasure pours over me; my legs wrap around his waist of their own volition, and I cling to him. He handles me like I weigh nothing, and he thrusts into me like he has every right to, plunders my mouth like he can’t stop. His rough movements drive me crazy. When we’re both frenzied like this, I feel reassured of his need for me—he can’t be faking it.
Whether he loves somebody or not, whether he means to be faithful or not, I have no space for any of that in my head. Lust is the most honest mutual emotion we share.
A searing climax spins all my senses. I hold him, like he’s the only anchor I have left in my life. When he comes inside me, I shudder again, digging my fingers into him.
I should be comforted—maybe even relieved—that he insists he’s faithful and demands the same in return. But the emptiness in my heart continues to gnaw at me, and I don’t know if I can ever fill it up.
Chapter 33
Lucienne
When I open my eyes the next morning, I realize I’m alone in bed. Sebastian brought me upstairs and held me until I fell asleep.
Maybe he went back to his room later.
I roll out of bed and change into workout clothes. A good run should help me organize my thoughts. Clear my head.
The door opens. “You’re up,” Sebastian says, coming in with a cup of water. “Here.” He hands me Plan B. “I just grabbed it. Thought you might want it.”
I look at the box for a moment. And think about how sensible and considerate he’s being. We didn’t use a condom last night, and I’m not on birth control. I was planning to stop by the pharmacy to grab one on my way to work.
