Page 33 of The Scars We Keep
I bite my bottom lip again, hard enough to split it open, tasting copper and defiance.And when I open my mouth to tell him to go to hell, I fucking moan.
I sense him freeze for a moment, his cock buried so deep I can barely breathe, one hand still wrapped around my throat, the other bruising my hip with his grip.
He growls against my skin.His grip tightens around my throat, not too much, but enough to make me gasp.Enough to remind me who’s in control.Or who thinks he is.
“You’re fucking soaked for me,” he murmurs, dragging his cock out in one agonizingly slow motion.The stretch burns and the emptiness stings.I hate how much I miss the fullness of him.“Dripping down your thighs, Bella, and yet you still pretend you hate me.”
I suck in a breath through my teeth, just to spite him.To prove I still can.“I do fucking hate you.”
He slams back in, hard enough to make me see stars.
I gasp again, and this sound is less controlled, more desperate.My fingers slip against the marble, scrambling, trying to find something solid to hold onto.Trying to pretend this isn’t exactly what I wanted when I walked into his office this morning.
“I hate your rules,” I pant, the words coming out broken and breathless.
He fucks into me harder, deeper, hitting that spot inside me that makes my vision blur.
“I hate your voice.”
Another thrust, punishing and perfect.
“And I hate this fucking house.”
He grinds into me, rolling his hips in a way that makes my toes curl and thighs shake.
“And I really… really hate your fucking coffee.”
That gets a low, dangerous laugh from him.His hand snakes under my shirt, rough palm sliding over my ribs before he palms my breast.His fingers are unapologetic as he rolls my nipple between them, pinching hard enough to make me whimper.
“Anything else you hate, wife?”
Wife.
The word oozes mockery and ownership.
I don’t answer.I can’t because he’s moving again, fucking into me with a rhythm that’s both brutal and calculated, like he’s trying to tear me apart piece by piece.His hand on my breast, his other hand on my throat, his cock driving into me over and over until I can’t remember why I was angry with him in the first place.
“That’s what I thought, Bella,” he rasps against my ear, and I can hear the smirk in his voice.“All that fire.All that attitude and look at you now.Taking my cock so fucking perfectly.Like you were made for it.For me.”
“Fuck you,” I manage to say, but it sounds more like a plea than an insult.
“Already am, Bella.”His teeth scrape against my neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark.“I’m fucking you, Bella.”
His pace changes until it’s filthy, punishing, and intense.
The pleasure intensifies.
Every thrust hits deeper, harder, angled just right to brush against that spot that makes my vision blur.My legs are trembling so violently that my knees almost give out, but he catches me before I fall and he pulls me back against him with bruising force.
“You gonna come for me, Bella?”he growls against my neck, teeth scraping skin.“Or are you going to defy me in that, too?Are you going to do what I ask and come all over my cock while you’re still lying to my face?”
A sharp and sudden heat rushes through me.It starts low in my belly, then explodes outward in waves that crash through every nerve ending in my body.I shatter with a cry I can’t swallow, can’t control, the sound ripping from my throat raw and broken.My pussy clenches around his cock in rhythmic pulses.My legs give out completely, but his grip holds me up.
He angles me higher, bending me forward over the counter so he can drive deeper and fuck me through the orgasm that’s tearing me to pieces.
My fingers scrabble uselessly against the marble, nails scraping, trying to find something to anchor me to reality.But there’s nothing.Just him and the brutal pleasure ripping through me, making my thighs shake, causing my whole body to convulse.I’m drowning in it, choking on it, and he doesn’t stop.Doesn’t soften.He lets me ride it out, the tremors ripping through me in violent waves, as my skin burns and my mind goes completely blank.
I hate that my body betrays me every single time he touches me.And I really fucking hate that part of me that wanted him to break me this way.To push until I snapped.Until the fight bled into something hotter, filthier, and I couldn’t fake my way out of it.
