Page 22 of Marked By Myth

I gathered the cum on my fingertips and pushed it back into her. She bucked up off the bed, groaning as I let my fingers smooth over her pussy walls, finding that little spongey pad that I knew would send her careening over the edge again. Her clit was red, and angry, already too oversensitive for me to play with. I didn’t want to hurt her, well not in that way. I wanted her to yearn for my pain. I already knew she loved her pain, got off on it. I knew she still loved it with all the new ink that littered her skin. I’d be mapping all of that soon when she passed out.

Which was soon, judging by the way her breathing was slowing, and her eyes were closing for longer periods.

She was so fucking beautiful.

And all mine.

Rox

I sat up, my body aching and sore everywhere. My pussy ached like no tomorrow and my thighs were sticky with the evidence of him everywhere.

Fuck.

I was so screwed. He was resting his eyes next to me. I knew he wasn’t fully asleep, always half awake in case someone needed him. It was what drove us apart. He could never truly be with me because the club always needed him.

Even in his restful state, he was beautiful, I hated to admit it.

Grey was starting to peek through his dark hair at the sides. You’d only be able to see it if you were this close. Time had been stolen from us. We were supposed to be happy, married with some kids, probably in school by now, so we could still have some fun time at night. It wasn’t meant to be like this.

He was meant to be my protector, my one and only, and yet the last fifteen years I’d been a mess.

He cheated on me with my best friend, and hadn’t even the decency to apologise to me about it. He didn’t come after me. He didn’t try.

Now, he was laying claim to me as if no time had passed.

I thought of Beck, of the way he was safe and calm, of the life I had in London. It was so far removed from the life I had here.

It was…nice.

I’d never wanted nice before. I’d always been chaotic, reckless and wild. That was who I was with Myth. I’d loved it…until I didn’t anymore. I’d changed. I wasn’t his Rox anymore. I was Roxana, and I needed to get back to my normal.

Carefully, I pushed off the bed, so as not to disturb him, and I hunted around for my skirt.

“Get back on this bed.”

I shot up to look at Myth now sitting up on the bed, looking over at me with renewed lust. My pussy throbbed at just one look from him. I was so fucking screwed.

“I have a life to get back to, Adrian. You’ve had your fun, now it’s time for me to go.”

I moved over to his dresser and pulled the first shirt I could find before pulling it over my head. It swam on me, but that would do just fine until I could get back to my hotel.

Myth was up and moving toward me. Just as I picked up my skirt again, I felt his hand on my wrist, squeezing. My skirt dropped and I looked up into his fiery eyes.

“Please, Adrian…I don’t—I have a life to get back to. It’s been fifteen years. Surely you have a room full of women dying to jump on the president’s cock. You can have anything you want.”

“I don’t want them,” he growled at me. “I never wanted them.”

Myth grabbed the backs of my thighs and hauled me up into his arms, my legs instinctively wrapping around him.

“I don’t want to be a cheater, Adrian,” I sobbed, leaning my head against his. “Please.”

“Haven’t you been cheating for fifteen years, Rox? You’re my wife, or did you forget?”

I pulled back, feeling as if he’d just slapped me. “We’re not together.”

“I don’t remember signing any papers,” he growled, slamming me against the back of the door. My breath left me as pain stole over me from the impact. Myth managed the too long shirt up, so my pussy was free. “And I never will.”

His cock slammed into me, hard, brutal and unrelenting. Myth fucked me against the door, showing me just who I belonged to. It was true, I was owned by him in every way. I’d never gotten over him, but I also didn’t want him to hurt me like he did before.