Another spank, another blast of utter bliss before his mouth lapped me up from behind, licking me, fingers touching every inch, teasing clit, rubbing along my lips, and I wiggled my hips, shaking my ass and moaning, god, begging, so pathetic, so needy, and he spanked me before he slid his cock inside and rocked in and out fucking me like a savage, holding me down, face shoved into the cushions, fucking me wild, fucking me so deep I screamed and came again in a blind flash that left me quivering and gasping for air, my skin bright red, an easy ten, until he pulled back out, grabbed my hair and shoved his cock into my mouth.
I licked my pussy from his tip and he groaned as he fucked my lips.
He came on my tongue, down my throat, and I struggled to swallow every drop. When he was done, I collapsed, buzzing and spent, so tired I couldn’t move, all the anger drained out of me.
But he stood there staring at my body, at my breasts, at my scar, and he stroked himself—still half hard.
“I know this is difficult for you.” His voice was velvet and chocolate. “I know how much you’re giving up to follow through with my plan. I promise, little Cassie, my pretty wife, I will make it worth your while. But you have to stop resisting me.”
“If you think this is fighting then you must be used to some very obedient women.”
His lips quirked, head tilted. “Maybe I am. And maybe you need to learn some manners.”
I leaned back, too exhausted to get mad. “Asshole,” I said, but there wasn’t much behind the word.
He knelt down in front of me and spread my legs wide. Instead of licking me, he moved forward, kissed my chest then ran his tongue along the length of my scar.
I sucked in a breath, too surprised to stop him. When he reached the one end, he kissed back along it to the other. “I don’t know how you got this and I don’t care. You think it’s ugly, but I think it makes you so much more beautiful than you realize.”
I grabbed his hair and pulled. He grunted and looked up.
“Stop it,” I whispered. “You can’t say things like that.”
“I mean it. I don’t require perfection. Nothing is perfect in this world. Perfect is too clean, too sanitized. I need your flaws, all of them, and you’ll accept mine.”
“You don’t have any.”
He touched my lips with his thumb. “Darling, I have plenty. Now, tomorrow we’ll meet with your father, and you will be on your best behavior.”
I snapped my teeth, and he pulled his hand back quick. He was learning. I smirked and sighed. “I’ll try my hardest.”
“Still fighting me?”
“Maybe.” I glanced down at his cock. “I think you have a few more lessons left in you tonight.”
His eyes were like nuclear blasts. He kissed me and I licked his tongue with my own and pressed myself to him, skin to skin.
“I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy teaching you how to listen.”
“I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy you trying.”
He laughed and stood and held out his hand.
I knew what that meant. Where he’d take me.
And what he’d do to me when we got there.
20
Roman
I woke up sore.
Sore. Fucking sore.
I’d never been so exhausted from sex before in my life.
Let along sore.
My cock was raw. My nerves were on fire.
And Cassie slept like a cat curled up in a nest. I kissed her forehead and she stirred, but didn’t wake.
I took a shower, made some calls, put on running clothes, and took the elevator down.
Sore. Fucking sore.
I couldn’t believe what the girl was capable of. When she got started, she lost herself in her flesh, in my hands on her skin, spanking her, fucking her, taking her to places she’d never been before. I bit her, slapped her, made her suck my cock until she gagged, and she still begged for more.
She pleaded for me to keep going.
I gave her everything I had and more last night, and she fell asleep, snoring softly.
Spent and happy.
If I had to do that for the rest of my life—
I could die a very lucky man.
How did I end up with Cassie? With this wife?
Even if this marriage was fake—last night made all the struggle worth it.
I hit the street and began jogging. I went slow until I reached Central Park then picked up my pace. There weren’t many people out at five-thirty in the morning, with the sun barely over the buildings, only the fitness freaks like myself, the drunks and the bums tucked away in the trees and the bushes, strung out junkies searching for a safe, dry place to spend the night, and I reveled in the life all around me even if I kept myself apart from it.