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A minute passes, but Sage is persistent. She’s not willing to be silent the entire trip home. “Can you at least tell me why you freaked out?” she asks softly.
“I didn’t freak out.”
“You were sweating and all red in the face. I was worried about you,” she replies.
“Why would you be worried about me?” I snap. “I ruined your life.”
She laughs. “You’re obviously still freaking out, Viktor. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I’m here if you want to talk about it.”
“I don’t.”
She shrugs, but as we arrive at the house, I sense I’m not going to be able to get out of having a real conversation with her about my past. First, however, I need to blow off some steam in the best way I know how…
19
Sage
Isaw this coming from a mile away. Maybe he’s a sex addict, or perhaps he’s just obsessed with me, but he can’t keep his hands off me once we get inside. Even before that, he’s grabbing my ass and telling me how he’s going to punish me.
Honestly, I think he’s the one who needs to be punished after his little outburst, but I’ll let him feel like he’s right this time. His emotional intelligence is severely lacking, and his ego is getting in the way of him using common sense.
I suppose that’s what trauma does to a person, but I’m no therapist. I don’t know the first thing about helping someone like him, so I let him express himself and hope that I can find ways to pry the sensitive information about his past out of him.
I feel like I need to know that to get any further with him. Something tells me the murder of his family isn’t the only thing that has left scars in his past. I mean, it’s pretty bad, but there’s something else that he’s not telling me.
Finding out is going to have to wait, though. We’re not even in the bedroom before Viktor is tearing off my clothes, pinning me to the wall and kissing me with so much passion that even I’m surprised by it.
Where did this come from?
I’m not going to complain about it. The way he tastes after an argument is heavenly, his mouth hot with a mixture of fury and lust. I get the feeling we could get caught in the hallway, seeing as other people have been in and out of this house all week, but he doesn’t seem to care.
The risk makes it that much more enticing.
When I feel his lips trail down my neck, I have to fight the urge to moan and beg for him to fuck me.
No. Not yet. I want him to suffer a little longer, make him sweat some more. He deserves it after what he’s put me through. He should apologize for his outburst, not bury it under anger and lust.
As he tries to press me into the wall, I turn on him, pushing him back and barking commands. “Get on your knees.”
He’s taken aback, his eyes wide with surprise, but the bulge in his pants is undeniable. I bet he’s never had someone switches thing up on him, but I’m not the sweet, submissive girl he thought I was when he married me. I’ve only ever been that way for him. It’s not my usual stance.
“What are you talking about?” he asks, cocking his head to the side.
“On your knees,” I snap. “I want something from you.”
He kneels slowly, still confused, but slowly getting the picture as I slip my panties onto the floor and kick them into his face. I pull him closer, lacing my fingers into his hair and shoving him against my pussy.
“This is how you’re going to apologize to me,” I hiss. “I’m not letting you fuck me until you do.”
“You’re not letting me? Do you not remember who I am?” he asks, looking up at me with stormy eyes.
“I don’t give a fuck,” I tell him. “Behind closed doors, you’re my husband, and a good husband is supposed to please his wife, not just fuck her like some cheap whore.”
A smile overtakes his serious face, and I know that I’ve won him over. “You surprise me, Sage.”
With that, I pull his face between my legs, and his tongue immediately seeks out my clit. There’s no hesitation, no waiting, no slow start. He wants to taste me, and there’s nothing hotter than a man who knows how to please.
His tongue slides along my clit, swirling around the bundle of nerves and making my breath catch. I tighten my grip in his hair, pushing him closer to my pussy. I’m already soaked, and it’s hard not to melt against him as his fingers reach up, pressing into me.
