She kissed me harder, her mouth begging mine for more. When she rubbed her tongue against mine, she made the sexiest sigh, hitting a musical note that resonated in my soul. Her hands explored my shoulders, feeling all the individual muscles before she slid them down over my chest, pressing her palms into my body like she wanted to test just how hard I really was.
I could show her instead.
I gripped the back of her knee and lifted her leg against my hip, wrapping her leg around my waist as I pinned her against the wall. My dick was hard in my jeans, the tip reaching the waistband of my pants. I pressed into her perfectly, my shaft giving her clit the ideal pressure to make her hips buck automatically.
She moaned against my mouth, her eyelids lifting slowly so she could look at my mouth. Her hands latched on to my arms for balance, and she was so far gone with lust that she was a whole different woman. Her lips parted, and she breathed as she felt me, felt every single inch of my hard dick.
Now I wondered if she was as good in bed as she claimed.
She rested her head against mine, her eyes downcast as she felt me grind against her. As if she’d never felt a dick so big and so hard, she was unable to do anything other than enjoy the pleasure screaming from her clit. Her nails started to dig into me, started to slice me because she was so anxious. If my dick felt this good through jeans and underwear, it would feel a million times better inside her.
Her hand cupped the side of my face, and she pulled me in for a kiss, her mouth even more aggressive this time. She slowly rocked her hips into me like we were fucking against the wall. She got herself off on the hardness of my cock, the fullness of my lips. Her fingers cupped the back of my head, and she kissed me like I wasn’t just some lay for the night. She kissed me like I was the man she was hopelessly in love with.
She was good.
With her lips still kissing mine, she moved her hand to my jeans and slipped the button loose. Her fingers grabbed the zipper and started to pull it down, letting my bulge press through my boxers a little more. She pushed my jeans down and then reached for my boxers, prepared to get them off so we could fuck right here against the wall.
I stepped back and pulled my jeans up.
Her leg dropped and her hands returned to her sides when she had nothing left to grab on to. A look of bewilderment and rage started to creep into her features and erase the lust that glowed in her eyes.
I zipped up my jeans and fastened the button. “Get out.”
“You can’t be this spiteful.”
I opened the bedroom door. “I am.” I stood with my hand on the doorframe, waiting for her to pull her dress down and walk out of the room. I could have glanced down and looked at her sexy legs and the black thong that barely covered anything, but I kept my dark eyes focused on her horrified face.
When she realized that this was really happening, that she was getting a bitter taste of her own medicine, she slowly pulled her dress down, licked her lips like there was a drop of scotch in the corner of her mouth, and held her head high as she walked out of my bedroom.
Before I shut the door, I gave her another livid stare. “Not so fun, is it?”
She turned around, her eyes narrowed like she wanted to grab my neck and strangle me.
I slammed the door in her face.
18
Arwen
I sat on the couch in my bedroom, still embarrassed from the night before. When I went to his room, my heart was full of concern for his departure. He was about to embark on a dangerous journey for vengeance, the very thing his marriage to me had purchased. But anytime there was warfare, there were casualties.
I didn’t want him to be one of those casualties.
He was a difficult man who was spiteful and rude, but he had good qualities…when he chose to show them. There were lots of times that he’d been good to me when he didn’t have to. It made me forgive his flaws and appreciate his kindness. That meant I didn’t want him to die…especially when he was trying to do the right thing for his mother.
And if he died, what would happen to me? I would be broke, homeless, and unprotected.
I needed him.
There wasn’t a knock on my door before he stepped inside. He usually respected my space, but after things went south, he seemed to hate me.