“I understood every insult…” pound. “…every hateful word…” pound. “…every bit of venom you spit at me.” pound.
Mia arched her back in an attempt to match his movements, her expression that of pure pleasure as Wyatt slammed into her. The globes of her ass were a tenderized pink, and Wyatt couldn’t resist bringing his palm down hard, the sound of her gasp was the only thing louder than the spank.
“Putain de merde,” Mia fumed at his reflection, and Wyatt landed another strike. “Connard.” Crack. “Branler.” She was provoking him, swearing with a fiery rage though she knew Wyatt would punish her for every ill-spoken word. “Tas de merde. Fils de pute…”
Mia was moaning her curses, practically begging him to keep spanking her while he pounded her ass, and Wyatt lost track of the insults. His fingers were curled tightly in her hair, their eyes locked in the mirror.Definitely a witch, and Wyatt was hexed.
Returning his hand to her waist, Wyatt picked up his pace. Mia’s eyes glazed over, her gaze seemed almost broken from the overload of pleasure.
“Fuck, Mia, the look on your face.” She was beautiful. So receptive and responsive. Utterly perfect in the way her entire body tightened around him when she came with a desperate cry of his name.
Wyatt let go of Mia’s hair and she sagged with her forehead against her arms. He took hold of her hips with both hands, thundering towards his own climax, fingers digging into Mia’s flesh and undoubtedly leaving a mark.
He’d lost his rhythm, his control, his very grasp on reality, his entire body shaking under the force of his release before slumping forward, panting into Mia’s damp flesh as the tantalizing scent of her skin mixed with the carnality hanging heavy in the air of her bathroom. It was a blissful haze that Wyatt had missed more than he was willing to admit.
“You really are an animal,” Mia said from underneath him with a murmur.
Wyatt laughed, kissing up Mia’s back as he slid out of her and helped her stand. She leaned into his body and let Wyatt lead her to the shower, where he gently washed her before cleaning himself.
Mia’s left butt cheek was a glowing red while her right was a tender pink, the shape of his fingers starting to form at her hips. Wyatt dried Mia off and, despite her meek grumbles of protest, carried her to bed before going to dig through her freezer.
When he came back, Mia was curled on her side, eyelids drooping and a satisfied smile on her face.
“Brussel sprouts?” Wyatt asked, holding up the only eligible substitute for an icepack he managed to find. “Really?”
Mia scrunched her nose, then laughed. “I think those are from Christmas three years ago.”
Wyatt turned the bag in his hands, finding an alarmingly old expiration date and rolling his eyes before wrapping the makeshift ice pack in a towel and sitting next to Mia on the bed.
“On your stomach,” he ordered, and Mia huffed, snuggling deeper into her position.
“I’m fine like this.”
“Stop being so stubborn, let me take care of you.” Mia just pulled the covers tighter around her body. “How are you going to get any work done if you can’t sit tomorrow?”
It was a trump card. Mia was dedicated to a fault when it came to her work in the hub, and it took her less than three seconds of thinking about it before she threw the duvet aside and turned onto her stomach.
“Thank you,” Wyatt said somewhat sardonically, pressing the compress into her left cheek. Mia cringed but otherwise stayed still. They stayed quiet for a while, lost in their individual thoughts before Wyatt decided to share his. “I wasn’t expecting you to enjoy the spanking that much.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“Nothing about that was disappointing.” Wyatt repositioned the compress, glad to see the redness of Mia’s skin had lessened. “Ton petit cul serré était incroyable.”
Mia gaped at him, though she was smiling in amusement. “That is terribly crude.”
“That’s rich coming from someone who was practically begging me to spank her ass raw less than five minutes ago.” Wyatt lay next to her, leaning on his arm. “Not to mention the terribly crude names you’ve been calling me over the past few weeks. You don’t get to act all prim and proper all of a sudden just because I said fucking your tight little ass feels incredible.”
Mia scrunched her nose. “That sounded much better in French.”
“Everything sounds better in French.” Wyatt laughed, dipping his head to press a soft kiss on her lips. “More aftercare or enough?”
“Enough, I’m tired.”
“Okay, Prickly Pear.” He kissed her again before placing the packet on the nightstand and turning off the lights.
Mia immediately snuggled into him, breathing a sigh of relief, and in a matter of minutes her breathing turned shallow and steady. Wyatt was just as spent, but the exhaustion wasn’t enough to bring sleep to his doorstep.
His thoughts were racing, all the things that were easily pushed aside during intercourse rushing to the forefront of his mind. He’d missed her. Not just the sex, but everything they shared in and out of bed. The willowy woman sleeping soundly next to him had somehow become an integral part of his life, an inevitability. And she still hated him.