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“You good, wife?” he asked with his next slow stroke. “Talk to me, Storm. Tell me what you need more of, less of. I want to know all the ways I can please you.”
“Harder. Do it harder.”
He dug his fingers into my hips and held on while he slammed into me. Over and over again, causing us to travel toward the headboard. At that point, I had nowhere else to go, and my neck was bent at an uncomfortable and probably dangerous angle.
Of course, Carmen noticed my predicament and scooted back down the bed. The man noticed everything, it seemed. With one strong forearm banded beneath my abdomen, he dragged me with him. I felt like a little doll the way he handled me. Moving me to suit his needs. Just his plaything.
And it was so fucking hot.
“Get there again, baby,” he encouraged. He spread my ass cheeks with his two large palms, and just the thought of him taking me there—I exploded. For the fourth fucking time in one night, I came with a guttural moan.
“My God. My God, woman. This cunt. I will never get my fill of this hot, tight heaven.”
I looked back over my shoulder in time to see him loll his head back between his shoulder blades and moan. “Feel me come, baby. Feel me fill you up,” he instructed while he climaxed deep inside my channel.
So many things started running a mad-dash loop in my brain. If I could pluck one or two out of the jumble, I’d be on steadier mental footing.
One. There was nothing responsible about letting this man ejaculate inside my body. Not one thing.
Even though I was on birth control pills, I’d have to dash out for a morning-after pill and pray for the best. Married or not, there was no way we were ready to be parents, and I knew I hadn’t been taking my birth control pills regularly this month.
Two. Where the hell had this version of Carmen Sandoval been hiding? Dominant, bossy, strong-willed men were my preferred type. If I had known this was underneath Mr. Kind and Considerate all this time, I might have been nicer to him in the off-sex periods.
Maybe.
Three. How soon could we do all that again?
Four. There was a strong possibility I was catching feelings for this guy. I told myself I could stick it out for a year, if for no other reason, it was a place to live that wasn’t my family’s home. But also, he had my journal. And to be one hundred percent clear on that point, there were things—so many things—written in that one linen-covered book that could destroy every relationship in my life. Including the bonds I had with my sisters and the respect and love I had for my parents. Sordid details of my sexual and emotional romps with others were commented on in great detail on those pages, too. Confessions regarding unethical things I’d done in my life up to that point could be found in my own handwritten words.
No exaggeration. My entire life would be ruined.
And that’s how I found myself in this position. Well, not the exact physical position I was in at the moment, but the general predicament with Carmen. If he hadn’t snatched that little notebook off my desk and bargained for a year of my life, I would probably already have a divorce or annulment in the works.
Every other time I thought about his blackmailing scheme, I became furious all over again. But my body was buzzing with so many happy chemicals thanks to his mad, mad bedroom skills, I barely raised an eyebrow about it.
Shit, if this was a snapshot of my life for the upcoming year, I’d be glad to stay.
“Jesus Christ, girl,” he said from beside me. He flopped onto the bed after emptying himself inside me.
I watched as he lay with his eyes closed and came down from the sex high. Ebony lashes rested high on his sharply defined cheeks as he slowly regained control of his breathing.
After observing him for a few moments, I said, “Thank you for…for all that.” The words were issued quietly in case he’d fallen asleep. He really gave one hundred and ten percent, and it was almost insulting to thank him in such a banal way.
He slung his forearm across his face and said, “Give me a few minutes and we can finish up.”
I snapped my head in his direction so fast my neck cracked. “What do you mean, ‘finish up?’”
I watched his grin grow wider before asking, “You haven’t had enough?” In my mind, I was high-fiving myself because I’d never been this lucky with a lover in my life and felt like it was damn time someone treated me right. And of all the people, my husband! Maybe karma wasn’t as pissed at me as I previously thought.
“We definitely need to get some condoms in this house,” I declared and braced for his resistance.
He uncovered his face and rolled his head in my direction. “I told you I was clean.”
“Yes, but are you also sterile? Because I don’t want to get knocked up like my big sister, you know?”
He propped up on an elbow and looked down at me and asked, “Wouldn’t you like to raise your children together? I thought that was something sisters did.”
I never actually gave the concept a thought, so I just stared back at him.
