Between Commitment and Betrayal (Hardy Billionaire Brothers, #1)(75)

“Are you going to dinner?” she asked, a frown on her face.

“Jesus, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” I looped a finger into her panties.

“Maybe you should,” she murmured. Her voice dipped low though and I knew she didn’t mean it. There was no way either of us were going anywhere after I’d felt those soft lips wrapped around my erection.

“Maybe. Or maybe I should give you what you really want.” I pulled the lace to the side so I could brush my hand over her. “Spread your legs like a good girl, baby.”

My wife, the one who normally would have thought this through, didn’t hesitate. Her thighs opened for me to see her pussy glistening.

“Wet as always, Ms. Everly Belafonte. You think if your cunt could choose it would be Mrs. Everly Hardy instead? It’s ready for me every time.” Just saying her name with my last attached to it had my cock hardening.

“I think that would be ridiculous considering our plan.”

“What plan exactly?” I whispered in her ear before I slid my finger in her.

She wanted to answer, I saw her open her mouth, but I sucked her bottom lip between mine and worked her clit agonizingly slow, so slow she forgot to say anything but please.

Over and over again.

“You want your husband to fuck you?” I asked.

She nodded fast.

I worked her up further. “Say you want your husband’s cock, Everly. Only mine.”

Her sapphire eyes caught my stare. “Declan …” she whimpered.

“Say what you want.”

“Fine. I want my husband’s cock. God, please.”

I was no better than all the men that saw her and wanted her for themselves. Everyone at my gym, Wes, Gianni, all of them. She was a fucking phenom of a woman that I wanted to consume for the rest of my lifetime.

I drove home into her. At this point, her sex was where my dick belonged. Rolling my hips so the friction would arouse her clit, I asked, “How does it feel to be full of me, Everly?”

She clawed at my back, wanting more, wanting it faster, probably wanting what we had before. “Hurry,” she pleaded.

“Raindrop, I’m taking my time. Nice and slow.” I pulled my length from her inch by inch, letting us both feel every part of each other and then I pushed back in with agonizing control. “We’ve got all the time in the world. Nice and slow.”

She whimpered, those

I repeated it over and over until I took not one but two orgasms from her.

I repeated it as I hit my own high.

I repeated it, knowing it wasn’t true.





28




EVERLY





THE WHOLE NEXT WEEK, Declan was careful, gentle, loving.

We went to work like nothing was wrong, like the news of my life hadn’t dropped around the nation. Yet, the paparazzi were handled. Piper wasn’t just good at her job, she was the best.

It should have been perfect.

Yet, it wasn’t. Declan tiptoed around me, made me meals, catered to me without commanding me, without feasting on me, without doing what he’d always done.

Every night after dinner, he kissed my forehead as I announced I was going home. Then, he let me walk off. Sometimes, I saw him go back into his house, but a few times that week, he got in his car and drove away.

I’d watched for his headlights every night.

I didn’t see them until much later, and my heart crumbled at the thought of him with other women, women who probably didn’t come with the baggage I did.

I didn’t ask. I didn’t have the right to.

Maybe that last weekend had been our goodbye, maybe that was all it took. I’d been zoned as a victim to him now. I felt caged by it, tortured by his kindness, my desires neglected by his soft touch.

We both were quiet on the way to the will reading. He typed away on his cell as his driver turned into the parking lot. But tension vibrated through us both. We hadn’t had each other the way we wanted for weeks, and we’d already blurred the lines of the marriage more than once.

“Declan, I—”

He started too. “Everly, we—”

“You go.” I waved a hand at him.

Glancing at my left hand, he grabbed it and held it in front of him. “You don’t wear a ring to show we’re married,” he said more to himself than her.

“I don’t think you’d want that when you go out, nor would I.”

“Why not?”

“If a woman wants to indulge in a relationship with you—”

“They’d have to take my attention off you first, which is near impossible at this point,” he growled, then clenched his mouth shut, his jaw moving. Leaning to the side, he grabbed a small velvet box from his pocket, a deep red and with gold etching on it. He didn’t take his eyes off me as he opened it. Beautiful large diamonds lined the gold wedding band. “I want you to wear this.”

I opened my mouth to object, to respond negatively in some way, to tell him this wasn’t right but he slid his hand to my jaw and placed a thumb on my lips to quiet me.

“Let me finish. I know you’re not supposed to be my wife, but to the world, you’re mine, and a man should think twice before fucking with what’s mine for the next nine months.”