Page 38 of Torn By Fate

And that same rage… it pulsed through my hardening cock. It lived in the memory of her naked body in that hotel window, the calculated provocation, the way she had touched herself… knowing I had been watching.

She had made me into a voyeur. A sick, twisted man who stood in the dark and watched while his wife gave herself to the shadows.

Fuck her.

And fuck me for falling for her ridiculous, desperate antics.

My hand slid from her mouth, moving down to her hips, fingers splaying across the curve and resting there for a mere moment before sliding lower. I gathered the hem of her black dress in my fist and pushed it upward, exposing the pale skin of her thighs to the dim amber light in the corridor.

She was bare beneath. No stockings, no garters, nothing between the fabric of her dress and her skin.

My fingers found the slickness against her inner thighs, and I swallowed back a groan.

Fuuuuck.

“Did you get wet because you were dancing with that man?” My voice was low, barely audible above the muffled bass bleeding through the walls. “Or did you get wet knowing I was watching you put on that little show?”

Serafina hissed between her teeth at my voice, at my words.

How goddamn adorable.

My lips brushed against her ear, a featherlight touch that sent a small tremor through her body. I pressed closer, my mouth hovering just beneath the sensitive curve of her jaw. “Did you enjoy me watching, wife…?” I let the word linger, savoring the weight of it. “Knowing what I would do to that man afterward?”

Serafina pressed her lips together, refusing to answer. But her small body trembled once, the tiniest shiver that didn’t go unnoticed. Defiance ran through her veins; I could see it in her clenched jaw and the way she held herself rigid.

But her body betrayed her. It always did.

I rubbed my fingers against the stickiness of her arousal, touching her inner thigh, feeling her skin on mine. It had been too goddamn long since I’d felt her like this.

“Does violence turn you on, Princess?”

My hand moved upward, and when I found the wet heat between her legs, I shoved one finger inside her. Rough. Hard. Merciless in my assault.

The tight, clenching wetness of her cunt swallowed me whole, and the sound that escaped her was barely human—a sharp, broken moan that vibrated into my chest.

Her eyes widened, shock and desire coursing through them.

She didn’t fight me. She could have, but she didn’t.

No…

My wife whimpered again, her hips bucking greedily against my hand, chasing the pressure, the friction, the cruel invasion.

“Oh yes,” I rasped into her ear, my voice thick with triumph, but the words tasted like damnation. “It turns you on.”

I pulled my finger out slowly, feeling the desperate clench of her inner walls trying to keep me inside. I teased her opening and then I thrust back in—harder this time, deeper, curling my finger against the spot that made her breath hitch. I did it again and again, loving the way she responded to my touch.

Her lips parted with a silent gasp, her pussy pulsing and clamping around my finger, almost like she was begging me to stay inside.

So desperate. So needy.

Fuck, I loved that.

The fury in my chest hadn’t dimmed. If anything, it intensified, feeding on her response, on the way her body opened for me even as her mouth refused to speak. She wanted this. She wanted the violence of it, the roughness, the way I took what I wanted without asking permission. She had spent months trying to provoke me, and now that I was giving her exactly what she’d been begging for, she couldn’t maintain the facade.

I brought my face closer, leaning my forehead against the wall beside her head, and our eyes met. “You’ve missed me, wife.”

My words seemed to drag her out of the lustful haze, and her eyes sharpened with defiance, but not her body. No, she still clenched around my finger even as her face transformed into a sinister, beautiful expression of abhorrence.