Driving into me, he skims his hands up my ribcage to my small breasts. His rough palms graze against my taut nipples, heightening my pleasure. When I arch my back, pushing to meet his thrusts, my walls clench around him again and again as wave after wave of orgasm rolls through me. As I’m reeling from the last of the lingering shudders, I cry out when he suddenly pulls his cock out and pushes me flat down, covering my entire body with his. The length of his stiff shaft wedges between my ass cheeks and spurts hot cum onto my lower back. He bows his head down into my neck and kisses my shoulder blade, biting my flesh and panting heavily, whispering words like wet and tight and so fuckin’ perfect. A shiver of ecstasy cascades down my spine. He stays there for a long time, with his sweaty chest pressed against my back, and I revel in being entirely enveloped by him, trapped in his powerful embrace.
When our breathing calms, he lifts himself up and kneels behind me, between my thighs. I inhale a sharp breath when his hands come down at the base of my spine and slowly rub his cum into my skin like a lascivious massage. Flutters stir deep in my stomach and radiate down to my pussy and thighs. I feel completely owned by the possessive sensuality of it.
I lie there, utterly still, until he flops next to me on his back with his arm thrown over his eyes. My mind and body feel like an explosion of jelly and I want to curl up into his warmth while the pieces of us fall back into place.
“You deserve better.” His rough, soft-spoken words startle me in the dark, dead silence that’s been swelling between us.
“Jude, I—”
He puts his hand up. “You should go now.”
His words are sobering. My heart feels heavy in my chest, as if it might sever itself, fall away, and die.
“Jude…”
“Please,” he says in a desperate, gravelly whisper. “Just go.”
That’s the last thing I want to do. I want to stay here with him. Show him I’m here for him, that he doesn’t have to be alone, and not everyone leaves.
But that wouldn’t be true, because someday, this charade will be over, and I, too, will also leave.
Blinking back hot tears, I pull on my robe, and silently walk away, hoping he’ll call me back with each step I take.
He doesn’t.
I take the near-empty bottle of whiskey with me, and dump it down the drain before going to bed, feeling very sticky, very sore, very confused, and very much like I left a big piece of my mangled heart in that room with him.
Chapter 35
Skylar
I’m glad I don’t have to go to school today because I’m mentally and physically exhausted from last night. Jude must be, too, but I heard his truck pull out of the driveway at five a.m., half an hour earlier than he usually leaves.
He didn’t peek in to say goodbye, which he always does.
He forgot to fill Cassie’s bowl.
And I didn’t get to make him a yummy chicken sandwich for his lunch to remind him that someone cares about him.
Routine is something I thrive on, and these little ripples upset me.
Jude is a pillar of stability for me, and I want life to calm down for both of us so things can be good again.
I’m due at the boutique at eleven a.m., so I have time to shower, feed the pets, and throw away any food that Erin’s dirty fingers may have touched. Later, I’ll stop at the grocery store and buy new groceries.
As I’m getting dressed, I send Megan a text:
Me: Have you ever had angry sex?
Megan: You’ve got my attention. Go on.
Me: Have you?
Megan: Maybe once or twice but it was lame. Why?
Me: I was just curious.
Megan: Lies. I know you, Sky. Did you and hubby have a fight?
Me: It’s a long story, but we didn’t have a fight. He was super pissed about something else.
I’m not going to tell Megan the details about Jude’s personal life. At least not over text message.
Megan: And?
Me: And we had some wild sex.
Megan: I’m here for these details.
Me: Is it bad if I enjoyed it? Like, I know I probably shouldn’t because he was so pissed off and I offered myself up as sort of an outlet, but it was pretty hot.
Megan: I am very jealous and not at all ashamed to admit it.
Me: LOL
Megan: Erik is way too nice to have angry sex. He’s all gentle and polite.
Me: That’s nice, too. I wouldn’t want my cervix rammed every day.
Megan: You lucky bitch. And no, it’s not bad if you enjoyed it. Passion is passion. Some couples live for make-up sex.
I laugh and shake my head at the screen.
Me: I have to leave for work but I’ll tell you more when I see you. How are things at school? Am I going to be stepping into a battleground when I come back?