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“I can’t,” I panted.
It was too much too fast.
“You will, princess. You’ll give me what I want, when I want it and come around my cock. Now, Atlee. Right fucking now, baby.” He pinched my clit hard, dipped his knees, and fucked me into oblivion.
I came screaming his name. I chanted incoherently as pure pleasure erupted.
“Fuck,” he snarled. “I can’t get enough. Can’t get close enough. Can’t control…”
The fountain dancing in the distance vanished as I watched his face contort with pain-filled pleasure in the window’s reflection.
His rhythm faltered and turned into short choppy thrusts. Suddenly he pulled free and I felt his hot release splash on my ass. His head was tipped down, watching himself come on me. His movements slowed. I felt him use the head of his dick to smear his come over my skin. God, that was hot and something I wished I had a clear view of.
“I’ll destroy you if you let me,” he whispered.
“What?”
Wilson lifted his head and found my eyes in the reflection.
He looked the opposite of a man who had just had a good fuck and sweet orgasm.
“I’ll destroy you,” he repeated. “I’ll let you down and fail you.”
I stiffened, knowing he was right.
Yet, the stubborn part of me refused to allow him to see just how right he was.
I straightened, forcing him to do the same. His hands fell away and I turned to face him.
“You won’t destroy me,” I denied.
Wilson’s blue eyes roamed my body, taking in my thoroughly fucked and disheveled appearance.
“Atlee.” My name nothing more than an exhale. “I will.”
I kicked my other foot free of my pants, adjusted my ruined panties back into place. Bent to pick up my slacks then stood with my shoulders back, mustering all the bravado I could find.
“You won’t, Wilson, because I won’t let you.”
I stomped into his bedroom needing to clean up before I could put my pants on and leave. I looked at myself in the mirror. Cheeks still flush. Wilson’s mark on my shoulder from this afternoon’s romp. Hair still in a ponytail but a mess. I was the vision of a well-fucked woman by a man who had warned her off while fucking her.
I needed to heed his warning.
Yet, I still knew I was going to let Wilson McCray destroy me.
SIXTEEN
I couldn’t get Atlee’s beautiful face and hurt-filled eyes out of my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about her pissed-off, hasty exit from my suite. Atlee pissed off should’ve been a good sign. But the stubborn tilt of her jaw scared the fuck out of me.
I was too weak.
I needed Atlee to walk away. I needed her to trust I was telling her the truth—nothing good would come from allowing me to use her body. I would only end up hurting her more than I had.
There was more at stake than her heart.
There was mine, as well.
Me falling in love with her would be catastrophic—for her. I wouldn’t let her go. My needs would overshadow hers like they had with Barb’s. My unwavering need to give my wife what she’d wanted was what had triggered her downward spiral. With each miscarriage she became more depressed. I saw it yet I allowed her to talk me into trying again and again. Her desire to have a family, my need to give it to her was ultimately what had ended her life.
