by Elaria Ride
Almost before I’ve realized it, I’m standing directly behind him and tracing a hand down his back as he removes the food from the bags. I hear his breath hitch as he places a white carryout carton on the table. It’s a heady feeling, I realize; to be so thoroughly in control.
And to be with someone who wants me in control.
He’s frozen beneath my touch, and I know he’s holding back, trying to show some restraint before ravishing me.
As if I’d ever let that stop me.
I allow my hand drift down until my palm rests on the swell of his ass until I hear an audible gulp catch in his throat.
“Marina,” he manages, in that same restrained tone he’d tried to use before. “Did you want to eat dinner tonight?”
I hesitate in faux-consideration before leaning in even closer.
“What if I want to eat something else?” I whisper, rubbing my breasts against his back. Finn groans and slides a hand down his face, and I’m sure my face is split into that same wicked grin I’d worn last night when I’d given him the terms of our… arrangement.
I spend approximately two seconds thinking about what I’m going to do next before I do it. I grab Finn by the middle and whirl him around to face me, hoping to convey just how much I want him with a single look.
I stare him in the face, quirking an eyebrow, and the words that come from my mouth surprise me — because I’ve literally never said them before.
“I’m going to suck your cock,” I say plainly, meeting his gaze. “And you’re going to enjoy it.”
A thrill races through me at the very thought, and he draws a breath as his eyes become dark and hooded.
Yes. This is exactly what I want…
“Sit down,” I command, pushing him down into the chair nearest me. He swallows but complies. The expression on his face as I peel off my shirt tells me that he’s forgotten about dinner as quickly as I have.
I toss my shirt over my head, reveling in the way he hisses at the sight of my breasts. I only have to glance down and figure out why; they’re absolutely spilling over my black lace bra, right where his eyes are focused. I give him a wink and sink to my knees, and that alone has him moaning from deep in his throat.
I feel my pulse roar even harder at the thought of having him in my mouth, completely under my control, but no… I need to satisfy him first. To make him lose it.
“I need to take this off,” I murmur, my deft hands skating across his lower abdomen. He sucks in a breath and nods, and I make quick work of his belt, unbuckling the brass prongs and unzipping his fly before I reach my fingers inside to grasp his heated flesh.
When he feels my hands on his cock, he gives an involuntary gasp and thrusts his hips into the air. I giggle wickedly.
“I only hope you can hold on,” I say, batting my eyelashes and peering up at him as I begin to ease his throbbing member out from his parted zipper. He sets his jaw and stares at me, but doesn’t say a word.
Good. It seems he’s remembered the terms of our little game from last night…
I grasp his cock in both of my hands, marveling at it once more. It’s big — so much bigger than any other penis I’ve seen. At first, I’d been worried that it might hurt to be with someone so endowed, but that was before I’d realized what a glorious thing it is to be filled in all the right spots…
While I’m staring at it, a bead of pre-cum appears on the tip. Finn’s clearly enjoying my admiration almost as much as I am. I squirm a little against the seam of my jeans, surprised to find that this is actually turning me on.
Well, I’d better make quick work of this, I suppose; a girl’s got needs, after all!
I shoot him another sultry wink — my only warning — before I dive down in one fell swoop, licking the bead of pre-cum from his cock.
He groans, throwing his head back, and for the first time in my life, I feel encouraged while doing this… as if he actually appreciates it as an act of service.
I’m happy to give him what he needs.
I peer up at Finn again and take his large hands in mine, even as my tongue continues to massage the head of his cock. He gives me a curious stare, but doesn’t comment. A look of recognition finally crosses his face as I place his hands on my head.
He threads his fingers through my curls and gently cups my face. “I’ll be careful,” he promises, his eyes hooded and serious.
I remove my mouth for just a second to set the record straight — “Damn straight, you will!”— and his responding chortle is cut off as I sink my mouth down onto his thick, throbbing cock.
“Fuck,” he moans, holding my head in place as I begin to swirl my tongue on the tip. I know I’ve got him just where I want him as I hollow my cheeks, providing the most delicious pressure against his shaft.
But even as his eyes begin to roll back in his head, even as I hear him whimpering from above me, he doesn’t force me to do anything. His hands remain stationary and threaded in my curls, almost lovingly caressing me without a single attempt to push me into something I don’t want. My gag reflex hasn’t even been triggered, which is a miracle — because he’s huge.
I continue sucking and swirling, sucking and swirling, and before I know it he’s groaning deeper and deeper from his throat with every pass.
Yes, I think with satisfaction… he’s close.
But he’s still exhibiting a fair amount of self-control, even as he vocalizes garbled utterances, his eyes sliding shut.
His fingers twitch in my hair, and I can tell that he’s just aching to thrust his hips into my mouth as deeply as he can, to give himself over to me completely. Based on everything I know about Finn, I also gather that his reasons for restraint have nothing to do with his own pleasure and have everything to do with ensuring that I feel comfortable, even in this labored state.
And in yet another first, I decide — right then and there — that there’s a time and a place for everything. Giving him pleasure is a priority right now, in a way it’s never been with any other man, not for as long as I’ve lived!
So I sink even lower down on his cock and reach out to caress his balls, and within a few second, my name starts falling from his lips in a muttered oath.
“Marina.” His eyes slide shut. “I’m close. I’m about to — ”
I silence him by hollowing my cheeks, even more intent on my mission than I’ve been before.
I know what he’s doing — giving me a warning before he comes in my mouth. But I’m enjoying this role far more than I ever thought, far more than I ever have, and I’m not about to stop before I feel him pulsing into my mouth with the force of his release…
Luckily, I don’t have long to wait. I begin humming in earnest around his cock, my head bobbing up and down, and when I finally finally look up to make eye contact, I can see the desire reflected in their tawny depths.
The very second that I reach a hand down to cup his balls, I immediately feel them tighten. And with that, he’s off — a low, primal groan falling from his lips as his climax tears through him with an intensity neither of us predicted.
He grips my hair tightly as his cock stiffens and vibrates into my mouth, his seed shooting down the back of my throat. But even as he comes, he never breaks eye contact — not even once — and for some reason, this feels more intimate than anything we’ve ever done. One of his large hands is gripping my hair, one is lovingly cupping my face, and fuck, he looks devoted… like there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.
I feel that familiar stirring from deep in my chest, the one I’d felt before in the car, the one I’d felt earlier in the office, but I double down on my efforts to push those feelings aside as I swallow everything he has to offer. Even if we are going to have a deeper discussion, it certainly won’t be right now — not while he’s coming down from the strength of his release.
And perhaps it’s through all of these things combined — Finn’s gaze of ardent adoration, his softening cock in my mouth, the perplexing feelings rising in my chest
— that I don’t hear the doorknob twist open behind me.
Or hear someone casually walking into my apartment, as if he belongs there.
In fact, my only tip off about the presence of an intruder is an angry, insistent voice from behind, one that lets out a string of furious, surprised curse words and some half-formed threats.
My heart sinks to my toes and I release an involuntary shudder as I remove Finn’s penis from my mouth.
Because even without turning around to look, I know who that is.
It’s Mike.
And he’s furious.
10
Finn
Throughout my childhood, my parents provided me with general information on manners and etiquette.
As such, I’d learned things like how to treat your partner on a date. How to set the table. How to dance the waltz. How to provide an appropriate gift, depending on a circumstance.
What my home training hadn’t covered, however, was how to handle a situation in which a man bursts into his ex-wife’s house… and discovers that said ex-wife’s mouth is wrapped around your softening, sensitive cock.
Oh, did I mention that this entire thing transpired after the most breathtaking orgasm of my entire life?
Needless to say, there’s not a rule book for how to handle any aspect of this.
And everything happens very, very quickly.
My chair is facing the door, so I see Mike (or that’s who I assume he is, although we’ve never been formally introduced) enter the apartment before Marina’s even aware of what’s happening.
Regardless, this dude throws open the front door like he owns the place… and as soon as he takes in the scene, he freezes. His beady little eyes scan from the table to Marina’s back, to her position on her knees as she kneels in front of the chair, and I can tell it’s hitting him fast — what’s actually going on.
He stands there and glares for another split-second second, and that’s when I see the rage and entitlement flicker across his face.
Mike hasn’t even said a single word, but I already hate this asshole.
He’s got a swagger in his step, a certain air of privilege about him, and I know he’s the type of person who treats women like absolute shit. In equal measure, I find that this realization pains me— and explains a lot.
And then, in the next instant, he starts screaming — and I’m vindicated in my decision to hate him on sight.
“MARINA!” he explodes, his fists clenched at his sides. “What the FUCK!”
It’s not a question. It’s a demand.
I’m a little embarrassed it’s taken me this long to react, but I move as fast as I can. Marina’s already pulled back, her eyes downcast as she shoves my cock back inside my pants. I take off my shirt and pass it to her, and she hastens to cover herself, even as Mike continues screaming like a petulant child.
“Y-you…Marina…what the HELL!” His face grows redder and redder, and a vein begins pulsing at his temple.
And then I see him shift, right before my eyes, as his mouth twists into a snarl.
“You know what?” Mike says coolly, his voice dropping several octaves. “This figures.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about, but his words nonetheless stir something primal in my chest. I glance down at Marina to see that silent tears have slipped from the corners of her eyes as she cowers from her place on her knees, her back still turned to him.
Fuck. If I thought I’d been mad at him before, now I’m downright furious. Who the fuck does he think he is, to make Marina so upset? I numbly think about all the shit he must’ve put her through to make her think she doesn’t matter.
Mike continues speaking, his tone bitter and cruel. “I always knew you were a fat fucking whore,” he spits, glaring at her back.
Marina gives a little sob from her crouched place on the floor. It’s probably a combination of that heartbreaking sound and his vile, disgusting words that send me over the fucking edge.
Something looming and protective comes over me… something that stirred the second he strolled inside. I finally understand all the ages-old cliches, because it is like I’m seeing red. I rise up from my seat with clenches fists, furious and angry and horrified in a way I’ve never been, not once in my entire life…
I draw myself to my full height and fix him with the most violent stare I’ve ever shown anyone. I estimate I’ve got at least six inches on this piece of shit… and about a hundred pounds of muscle.
Mike’s eyes widen as I come closer, but he stands his ground, his fists still clenched at his side. I stop right in front of him and stare him down, doing my best to press him close to the door.
“Don’t you fucking dare say that about her,” I seethe, my breath coming in angry pants.“Not now. Not ever.”
Mike snorts in derision. “I’ll say whatever the hell I please about my fat whore of an ex-wife. Thank you.”
Without even considering the ramifications of my decision, I grip his face in my right hand and slam him against the door; Marina lets out a startled shriek from behind me.
“I said,” I repeat, gritting my jaw. “You will not refer to her as a whore. Are. We. Clear?”
Mike’s face grows redder and redder as he continues staring at me with those beady eyes. I’m sure he won’t give up, that I’ll hold him here until he passes out. And in an even more terrifying thought, I’m sure that I’ll be happy to drive him to unconsciousness.
The realization takes me by surprise, but I suppose it shouldn’t, given my feelings for Marina.
Still, it’s a little awe-inspiring: Me… Finn Bosco. The guy who wanted kids before he wanted a car. The guy who who would sooner bring bugs outside than kill them. The guy who needs to be sexually dominated.
…I’m about to let this dude pass out beneath my fist.
Luckily, things don’t get that far. After a few more choked, strangled breaths, I feel Mike relent beneath my fist.
Good. He’s not a dumb as he looks.
He gives a curt nod and I release him, though he shoots me a withering glare as he cracks his neck. I can only hope I’ve left a bruise.
“And fat isn’t a bad word,” I bite back. “People like you are the only reason we’re taught to think so.”
I hear Marina scurrying to her feet before her gentle weight presses against my back. Her hands loop around my waist, and I rest mine on top of hers. I swallow. I’m not even sure if she knows it, but she’s giving me so much strength, just by standing there…
“Now,” I say on an exhale. I feel marginally calmer, although I still fix Mike with that intense stare.
When it comes to this asshole, I trust absolutely nothing.
“Was there anything you needed in Marina’s apartment?” I demand. “Which she pays for? Herself?”
Before waiting for a response, Marina voices a question that had also been floating in my mind since Mike entered.
“And where the hell is Marco? It’s your damn night!”
Mike scowls. “Our son is waiting patiently at home with Christina — my girlfriend. The hot little thing I’m banging.”
I roll my eyes. Does he seriously think that’s gonna work?
“But the reason I’m here,” he continues with a sneer, “is because your darling Marina forgot to pack our son’s blue blanket. And since you’re kind of new around here, you should know he can’t sleep without it.”
Marina groans from behind me and rushes off in search of the missing item. Mike stares at her retreating form, his lip curling in satisfaction.
“You’re a flavor of the week.” His words are clearly directed at me, even though eyes haven’t left her bouncing ass; I feel my fist clenching again with renewed rage.
Mike wets his lips and presses on. “But Marina and I? We have more history than you ever will.” He turns to me, that same look of contempt and entitlement smeared across his face. “Because we made a kid. Together.”
…And at that, I almost burst out laughing. Which is a g
ood thing, cause I’d been about two seconds from decking him on the spot.
What a fucking moron; I’m well aware of how human reproduction works.
But Mike just shakes his head and offers me a cocky shrug and before adding, “You know what they say about birth control… it never stands up to the strength of a real man.”
Then he has the audacity to laugh, like he’s actually said something funny.
Ohhh…
My mind reels as all the pieces fall into place at once.
I may not be the fastest on the uptake, but at this point? It’s rather obvious. It all makes sense now— how quickly his and Marina’s relationship had progressed. How readily she’d agreed to marry him. How Marco had been born after he’d already been stationed elsewhere.
I know it’s only a theory — but I’m going to test it. And I’d bet my winery that what I’m about to say is true.
“I’m more a man than you’ll ever be,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “Because I don’t need to trick someone into pregnancy to get her to stay.”
My words have a chilling effect. Mikes stiffens, frozen in place. His face strains and flushes bright red, and he suddenly becomes fascinated by the pattern on the carpet behind me.
Bingo.
Marina scampers back into the room with Marco’s blue blanket and she hands it over without a word.
And — if you can believe it — that jackass actually think I’m going to let him leave without addressing any of this!
Mike turns to leave, his face still red and strained, but I reach out to slam the door in front of his face, just in case he think he’s getting away that fast. Marina gives me a quizzical look as I draw a deep breath, but I need to say this… even if it makes her uncomfortable.
“Hey, Marina?” I ask casually, staring at the back of Mike’s head. “Did you know that Mike got you pregnant on purpose?”
There’s a beat of awkward silence that stretches between the three of us.
I’m irrationally pleased as the back of Mike’s neck turns an even darker red. It’s such a satisfying color, really — the color of shame.
