Page 133 of Temporary Vows

I slam into her harder, then I started fucking her, thrusting my hips again and again, pounding into her harder.

In the barely there reflection of us in the long mirror, I catch a glimpse of her tits bouncing back and forth and the half-pleasure, half pained expression on her pretty face.

I drive into her faster and her walls clench around my cock tighter, fueling my relentless need for her.

Her moans grow louder and louder, and soon the room is filled with the erotic symphony of our pleasure and our bodies slapping together.

Suddenly, blood rushes to my groin and the tension builds in my cock. “Fuck, Elodie.”

I’m going to come. My control was slipping, but I kept pounding.

I had one more promise to fulfil—the scream.

I hammer into her without restraint, fucking her so hard and rough I fear I’ve broken her.

That’s when she screams.

The piercing sound touches every wall and fills me inside and out.

My cock swells, and then I come, spilling inside her.

Every nerve in my body was on fire and the fucking release… it went straight to my head.

We collapse onto the bed, but I drag her into my arms, holding her tight against my chest.

She tilts her head up at me when her breathing calms.

We stare at each other, and the thought hits—dark and unwelcome.

She’s the only person in this world who has power over me.

Wanting her gave her the keys.

She is my exception, and that is dangerous.

Maybe I am destined for destruction after all.

Because I want her again.

I pull her closer and press my lips to hers.

Chapter 30

Elodie

Igaze out the window of my office, my thoughts caught in the patterns of rain trickling down the glass.

It’s early again. Getting to school before the chaos of students and teachers begins has become a good distraction for me.

It’s my way of keeping everything else at bay. Here, I can lose myself in lesson plans, reports, and marking my students’ assessments without letting my thoughts drift back to everything I’m trying to avoid.

It’s been three weeks since the wedding.

Three weeks since I last saw Dorian.

Next Saturday, we’ll have been married for a month, and through all that time, I haven’t seen or heard from him.

The morning after the wedding, after I finally woke from our incessant lovemaking, Dorian was already gone. He’d left for L.A.