by J. M. Walker
In a quick move, Brett spun me around and bent me over the counter. “Your nerves make me hard, Evvie.” He licked up the side of my cheek, grinding his crotch into the seat of my ass. “So fucking hard.”
My jaw clenched but no sound left my lips. Gripping the edge of the counter, I waited. Unable to move, unable to utter a single word, I gave my husband what he wanted. What he had always wanted. My complete and utter submission.
Brett’s hand grazed up my center before wrapping around my throat. His hot breath scorched the side of my face, sending a flutter of twisted desire racing through me. No matter how mad I was, no matter how much I hated him, I would always want him. And that made me loathe him even more. He knew. I was sure he could feel it.
My heart thumped hard against the walls of my chest. My breathing became labored. I was ready for him. So damn ready for him to take me away like he had promised so many years ago.
The sound of a belt unbuckling and a clink of the metal, sent a hot shiver racing down my spine. This was it. This would be the beginning to our end.
“Evvie,” he purred, his mouth brushing along the shell of my ear. “Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me you want to stop. Tell me that no matter how much you hate me, you need me deep inside you.”
“Fuck you,” I whispered, white-knuckling the counter.
He chuckled, the sound dark and dangerous. “Oh, I’m going to.” His teeth nipped my ear. “I’m going to fuck you so hard that no matter how deep that hatred inside of you grows, you will always crave me.”
Tears burned my eyes, my throat working past the hard lump. I hated this man and what he did to me, what he made me feel. But I loved him for it just the same. He took me past the very existence that was my life and forced me over that delicious edge into a pool of seduction and power.
With rough fingers, Brett pulled the shirt off of my trembling body, leaving me naked before him. He kicked my legs apart, wrapping his hand around my throat once again. Sliding his fingers down the length of my spine, he brushed them between the cheeks of my ass until he reached my dripping center.
“Hmm…” He kissed my neck. “Nice and wet, beautiful girl,” he murmured against my skin, pushing his fingers into my throbbing pussy.
A soft gasp escaped me, my eyes fluttering closed.
“Open your eyes,” he demanded, thrusting his fingers into me in a rough move.
I whimpered, my gaze landing on his handsome face. “Please,” I begged, the word falling free from my lips like it had a mind of its own. “I need you. I need more.”
“You always need more.” He bent me over the counter, pushing his arm into the back of my neck and holding me in place. “I’ll give you more, Evvie. I’ll give you everything you crave. Everything we have done over the years will be nothing compared to what I’ll do.”
My body burned with the need to come.
Brett brushed his fingers over my swollen clit. Back. Forth. Back.
A hot shiver raced through me, my knees buckling at the electric current rushing deep inside of me. “Please.”
“Shut up,” he growled, slamming three fingers inside of me.
I cried out, my eyes brimming over at the delicious pain.
“You like that.” He kissed my cheek. “You like the pain of my fingers filling you.” Brett inserted a fourth finger, filling me, stretching, owning .
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Good.”
***
(Brett)
With my wife bent over the counter and my fingers stuffed deep inside her cunt, I was hard as a fucking rock. Her moans and whimpers almost forced me over that edge. She was beautiful, the sounds of her pussy sucking four of my fingers, gracing my ears.
“Brett,” she cried out. “Please make me come.”
Oh, I would. Over and over again until she passed out in my arms.
Lowering to my knees behind her, I kissed her tailbone before sliding my tongue between the cheeks of her ass.
She gasped, her pussy clenching around my fingers. She was a dirty girl, enjoying it every time I took her to new heights and revealed her deepest and darkest fantasies.
Speeding up my fingers, I slid my tongue into the tight little rim and ate her until she was shaking above me.
“Oh God.” She threw her head back, pushing her ass into my face. “Please, Brett.”
“Come for me, Evvie,” I demanded, thrusting my fingers in and out of her at a rapid pace. “Come. Hard.”
A low moan escaped the back of her throat before the sound I craved left her mouth. My name, falling from her lips, caressed my ears, bouncing off the walls of the kitchen.
Before she had a chance to come down from her orgasm, I rose to my full height and slammed my cock deep inside her cunt.
She screamed some more, thrashing her head back and forth at the newfound pleasure she wasn’t expecting.
Holding her against me, I wrapped my hand around her throat and thrust my hips forward and back. With each movement, her ass slammed against me. We worked up a rhythm, taking out our pain on each other.
“Harder,” she demanded, reaching around her and gripping my hip. “Fuck me harder.”
God, I loved her. My dick swelled, the impending release growing the faster I thrust inside of her.
“Come on my dick, Evvie,” I demanded, brushing the scruff of my cheek against hers. “Come hard. Come all over me.”
“God, Brett,” she whimpered, chewing her bottom lip. “You’re so damn hard.”
I pushed her over, gripped her ass and pounded into her with a ferocity I hadn’t felt in a long time. I took everything that had happened over the past couple of days and unleashed it onto my wife.
“Yes,” she screamed. “Oh. Fuck.” Her body shook, her pussy squeezed me and my name left her mouth once again.
My release followed right after, pouring deep into her body. “Evvie,” I bellowed.
She sighed, pushing to her full height on shaky arms. “Did you get what you were looking for?” she asked, glaring at me.
I chuckled, pulled free from her body and put my dick away. Before she could comprehend what I was doing, I had her over my shoulders.
She gasped, struggling against me. “Put me down.”
“No.” My palm connected with her ass. “And to answer your question, no. I did not get what I was looking for. Not even close.”
Evvie
I WAS SORE . Sticky. And exhausted. All I could feel was the remnants of Brett deep inside me. Every single inch of me. My pussy. My ass. My throat. He took out his rage on me, and I, on him just the same.
I hated what he had done to us but at the same time, it opened up this newfound darkness that I couldn’t help but run toward.
After he had spent the morning using every inch of me, he left. Not saying goodbye. Not giving me a hint on where he was going. He just…left. I shouldn’t have been surprised but I was. Although the sex didn’t move us in the right direction, it felt good. Oh, so fucking good to be that connected with my husband again. We needed to talk. I knew that but I honestly didn’t give a shit anymore.
My phone dinged, indicating an incoming text.
Brett: I rented a hotel room. This is where I am if you wanted to bring the kids by.
He sent the address in another text and I saved it to my phone. My heart hurt that it had come to this.
Me: Fine.
Brett: Something wrong?
I rolled my eyes.
Me: Nope.
Brett: You’re lying.
Me: I would never do such a thing.
Brett: Careful, Evvie. Just because I’m not there to spank that ass, doesn’t mean shit.
My body heated, betraying my heart. I didn’t respond and rolled over in bed when my phone dinged again.
Brett: Ignore me and see what happens the next time we’re together.
Me: Fuck you.
Brett: We did that and although it was fun, I’m bored.
I raised an eyebrow, reading his text again. Inst
ead of replying, I called him instead.
“What would you like, my beautiful wife?” he crooned.
“You’re bored? What the hell does that mean?”
“It means just that, I’m bored. You’re pissed. I feel fucking guilty and there’s nothing I can do besides give you time.”
“Well clearly that didn’t happen when you spent the morning fucking the shit out of me. Do you feel better now? Did you get it all out of your system, Brett? Was it enough for you? Was I enough for you?”
“Evvie,” he growled in warning.
“Tell me that I was enough for you,” I demanded, sitting up in bed much to the protest of my sore muscles.
“You are always enough for me or do I need to come back there and prove it?”
“Brett.” A door slammed downstairs, pulling me from the conversation I was trying to have with my difficult husband.
Peeking my head out into the hall, I heard Anna’s voice mixing with the kids. “The kids are home. I have to go.”
“Evvie—”
I hung up the phone, stomped back into my bedroom and quickly got dressed. I would hear about hanging up on Brett later, but at that moment I didn’t care. Not when we should have been talking but yet, he threatened me with sex instead. God, what the hell was wrong with us? We were talking about anything but the situation itself. The cause of our issues. The reason that our marriage was on the verge of ending.
“Evvie, are you home?” Anna called out from the bottom of the stairs.
“I am,” I yelled back and finished freshening up and making myself look somewhat presentable. When really, all I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and go to sleep. I wanted to revel in the marks and bruises on my body from my husband’s rough touch. As much as I hated him currently, I always enjoyed having his fingerprints embedded on my skin.
Staring at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I noticed how my face had sunken in a little, my blue eyes no longer bright and filled with life. My blonde curly hair was a mess on top of my head but I didn’t care. I just did not care. But I felt him. All over me. Inside of me. All throughout my very being.
My phone dinged every so often and I knew it was Brett but I didn’t answer. He would stew. His anger and frustration would increase but he wouldn’t show up because when he did, he would make sure to show me just how pissed he was that I was ignoring him. It was a cat and mouse game. I would lose. I always did. But I didn’t mind in the least. I needed to take some control back.
“Hey, Evvie.” Anna knocked on the bathroom door before slowly opening it. “You okay?”
“I am.” I stepped around her and started making the bed, trying hard not to inhale the scent of our sex.
When Anna went to help, I raised a hand.
“Stop.” My cheeks heated, remembering what Brett and I had done on this bed earlier that morning. “Please. I can do this.”
She nodded, moving to the chair in the corner of the room. “Have you seen him?”
“Yeah,” I muttered.
“How did it go?”
I finished making the bed and sat on the edge before giving her an answer. “We didn’t talk. I know we need to. But I don’t know how to get that conversation started. Am I pissed? Mad? Angered the fuck out? Filled with so much rage that all I can think about is ripping my husband apart? Yes. Yes to all of those questions. But I also love him. God, I love him.” I dropped my head in my hands. “I don’t know how we’ll talk through this.”
“So you fuck instead,” Anna said gently.
I nodded slowly. “Is there something wrong with us?”
She shrugged. “I don’t think so but I’m not a doctor. Is it healthy? You two have more sex than most twenty-year-olds.” She sighed. “Listen, I love you both and I want you happy, but you really need to talk about this.”
“I know.” I stood from the bed. “Where are the kids?”
***
(Brett)
My wife was ignoring me. I paced back and forth. Back. Forth. And back again. I texted her. I called her. I texted again. The impending rage battling through me threatened to control my every move. If I was certain that the kids weren’t home and that she was alone, I would make my way over and show her how much her ignoring me pissed me the fuck off.
A hard knock sounded on the hotel door, interrupting the inappropriate thoughts slithering through my mind on what I wanted to do to my wife.
“Matteo,” I said, greeting my longtime friend. It had been a week since I saw him at the club.
“Did you forget that I was coming over?” he asked, handing me a case of beer and a bag.
My mouth watered at the sight. I hardly drank beer anymore but sometimes even the best liquors got old.
“I did. What’s in the bag?” I pulled a bottle from the case, popped the cap and took a long swig before placing the rest in the fridge in the kitchenette.
“Two calzones. Marketta has me eating healthy.” He handed me a small box. “But she approves of these because she loves them. I think you’ll like it.”
“Right now, I don’t give a shit what it is. I’ll eat just about anything.” Although the room service had been excellent, I had already eaten everything off the menu. I was ready for something different.
“So, tell me, have you and Evvie talked?” he asked, kicking his feet up on the table in front of him.
“If you mean, did I talk by fucking her brains out the last time I saw her? Then yes, we definitely talked.” I scrubbed a hand down my face and pulled back the rest of the beer before turning to my friend. “It was a shitshow. I went over the night before. I didn’t even hint at sex and neither did she. We talked a bit. But the next morning, she was arguing with me about food. One thing led to another and…” My dick grew at the memories flashing in my mind. Me forcing my cock down her throat. Images of my body in every single inch of hers. I had been rough. The roughest I had been in a long time and she welcomed it with open arms.
“Brett.” Matteo frowned. “Everything okay?”
I shook myself. “Yeah, sorry.” Rubbing the back of my neck, I looked at him. “What were you saying?”
“I was asking you if you talked after but clearly from what you’re telling me, all you could think about was getting your dick wet.”
My jaw clenched, my grip on the bottle of beer tightening.
“Or was it her? Did Evvie—”
“Careful.” I slammed the bottle onto the table. “Remember that is my wife who you’re talking about.”
Matteo sat back, a shit-eating grin spreading on his face. “I know. But sometimes you need a reminder that you actually feel something more for her than just pure raw lust.”
“I don’t need a reminder, asshole. Every time I see our kids, I’m reminded.” I stood from the couch, pulled back the beer in two large gulps and threw the bottle against the wall. The glass shattered to the floor, much like my wife’s heart. And both, were because of me.
Brett
A SOFT KNOCK sounded on the door to my office. I tried to ignore it, hoping that whoever was on the other side of it would get the hint and just leave. But when the knock sounded again, I slammed my hands down on top of my desk.
“This better be fucking important,” I bellowed. The door slowly opened, revealing… “Miracle.”
“Bad time?” she asked, entering the office.
“Not at all, sweet girl.” I stood and made my way around the desk. “Are you by yourself?”
She nodded, glancing away.
“It’s not even one in the afternoon.” I pulled her in for a hug. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”
She nodded again. “I’m bored there, Daddy, and I know you and Mama are fighting. Patrick won’t talk and Eddie thinks it’s all one big joke. What the hell is going on?”
Under normal circumstances, I would have chastised my daughter for her language but at that point, I was just too tired to care.
I closed the door behind her, trying to come up with every random excu
se possible but instead, I told her the truth. “I made a mistake years ago. Before your mom and I got married. I’m trying to figure out how to make things better, but your mom is a stubborn woman.”
Miracle sat on the couch, bringing her knees to her chest and hugged her arms around them. “Anything I can do?”
I sighed, slumping on the couch beside her. “I wish.” I kissed her head. “Right now, your mom needs time.”
“How hard is that for you?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, frowning.
“Daddy, I know you’re not a patient man. I may be a kid but I’m not blind.”
“No,” I mumbled. “You definitely aren’t. How did you get here?”
“I…” She chewed her bottom lip. “I took the bus.”
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. If it had been any other kid, I would have lost my shit but Miracle was smart. Even smarter than a lot of adults. We really should move her forward in school. “Are you hungry?” I asked instead.
Her eyes brightened. “Yes.”
“Good.” I rose to my full height and pulled my phone from the inside pocket of my jacket. I sent Stefan a quick text, telling him to cancel my afternoon appointments. Before I could check to see that he responded, I shoved the phone back inside my pocket and reached for my daughter’s hand. “Ready?”
“Do we get the place to ourselves?” she asked, her eyes wide with excitement, and slipped her small hand in mine.
“We do. The club doesn’t open until four, so until then, you have me all to yourself.” I winked.
She giggled, skipping along beside me as I led her down the hall.
“Now, did you want to be in a booth or a table? Or did you want to sit at the bar?”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened even more. “At the bar.”
I laughed. Knowing she had a tiny crush on the new bartender, I accommodated my daughter’s wishes. As long as the fucker kept his grubby hands and comments to himself, she would get what she wanted. She may have only been thirteen but she was beautiful. Like her mother.
