“Oh I’ll fuck you, wife.” He pulls almost all the way out of me.
“Don’t call me—” My words are cut off when he thrusts all the way back inside of me. A moan leaves me instead as he starts to pump in and out of me.
His thrusts are almost brutal, but I welcome every single one of them. The Rowan of our first year of marriage is coming through. The one I had fallen head over heels in love with. I’m getting a glimpse of that possessive man that could never get enough of me. But I know better than to hope that this side of him will stick around. Believing that will only lead to disappointment.
“Miss you,” he grits out between thrusts. My heart flutters in my chest. Why can’t he say those things to me when he’s not inside of me?
My orgasm is already building. It’s been too long. No matter how many times I try to get myself off, it’s never the same as what Rowan can do to me. The man owns my body. I think he even will after the ink is dry on the divorce papers.
He grips my hips, lifting me and angling my hips to hit that sweet spot inside of me. “Rowan!” I cry out his name when the orgasm slams down on me. I cling to him as the pleasure rolls through my body in waves. He groans my name as he spills his own release deep inside of me.
He buries his face in my neck as he thrusts a few more times. More of his seed spills inside of me. Neither of us move as we try to catch our breath. Some of his release slips out, spilling down my thighs.
When he starts to kiss my neck, I begin to drift back down to reality. I release my hold on him. I was pretty much clinging to him. I let my legs drop. Rowan stiffens for a moment before he shifts, letting his cock slip free of me.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks, setting me back down on my feet. I hate the question.
“Does it matter?” His head jerks up, his eyes locking with mine. It’s a low blow. I know Rowan would never intentionally want to hurt me. Somehow, he still manages to though.
“Charlee. I’d never want to hurt you.”
I shake my head. “No, that didn’t hurt. In fact, that’s the best thing you’ve done to me in a while.” I smooth my hands down my dress, righting it the best I can.
“Charlee—”
“You didn’t use a condom,” I blurt out. It’s a ridiculous thing to say, and I know it, but I’m poking.
“When have I ever used a condom?”
“You know I’m not on the pill. It messes with me.” I’d told him that before we got married. He told me it didn't matter. That he planned on knocking me up anyway. That never did happen. I should be happy about that since we’re now about to get divorced, but I’m not.
“You’re my wife. I don’t need a damn condom.”
“I don’t know what you’ve been up to. Or who you’ve been up to it with.” The second the words are out of my mouth I know I went too far. Rowan isn’t a cheater.
I’m poking again. I’m not sure why. It’s not my nature, but I can’t control it at this point. I’m always a pleaser when it comes to him. I adored doting on him. I hate fighting, but for some reason I’m itching for one now. I shouldn’t be. I came here to get the papers signed.
Liar! My heart and brain scream together at me.
“You’re lucky I know you haven't been with anyone.”
“How do you know that!?” There I go again. Poking the bear. Wanting him to snap. Then what? Then you get that darkness Rowan tries to hide from me. The darkness I see lurking in his eyes when we’re in bed.
“I know.” He steps into me, pressing me back until I hit the wall. “I’m a married man. My dick belongs to my wife. A wife I’ll never divorce.”
I gasp. “You lied. You said you'd sign the papers.”
“I said we’d talk. So I didn’t lie. You’re the liar.” I flinch. “You vowed to be mine. To love me in good times and bad. Until death do us part.” I fight back tears because he’s right. “I need some air.” He turns, stomping from the room. It’s not long before I hear the front door open and slam shut.
I see some things never change.
three
ROWAN
My parents never fought. Their hatred was a silent but palpable thing. They stayed together because they had nowhere else to go. They were miserable people, and their unhappiness spread like a contagious disease until they lived on this island that no one else cared to visit. As their only son, I was trapped there, only escaping through a football scholarship to a small college with an excellent academic record. I played sports like it was my job and spent the rest of my days taking as many finance and economics classes as possible. I made connections, and with some savvy decisions and a fuckton of luck, I ended up with a fortune.