Dear Heart, You Screwed Me(37)

“You don’t have a choice.” I spat through gritted teeth, pushing him off me and standing away from him.

He didn’t move from his slightly hunched over position on the sofa. How could it be possible to find this guy drop dead gorgeous but also detest him at the same time?

“I think you should go,” I turned my head so I was staring out the window. I didn’t want to look at him.

He didn’t say anything, but I heard him walk towards me. He towered over me, his hand moving to the base of my throat as he wrapped his fingers round it.

“I won’t give up easily petal,” his lips pressed to the shell of my ear as he whispered, causing goosebumps to smother over my skin.

“Let me take you out Saturday.”

My hand shot up and wrapped around his wrist as I yanked it away from my skin.

“I already have plans,” I licked my lips, smirking at him.

“With who?” his jaw ticked, clenching and unclenching as he waited for my response.

“Harlen,” I said a little louder than I should have.

“What?” He growled, his dark eyes narrowing on me. He didn’t like that answer.

“You heard me.” Pushing him away from me I walked towards the front door, unchaining it and opening it wide for him.

He stormed over to me; I could see the rage etched over his face.

“You aren’t going.”

“Sorry? Who do you think you are?” I shouted at him; I didn’t care that the door was open.

“Your husband.”

“Might as well be fake husband.” I rolled my eyes, “I’m going.” Crossing my arms across my chest and holding my own.

“Like fuck you are,” he said through clenched teeth.

I felt my own rage brewing. Who did he think he was? The arrogant, narcissistic piece of shit. I dropped my arms before slapping him hard around the face. My eyes widened as he stood tall and steady. He didn’t falter. Just stood there like fucking goliath.

His eyes darkened as they hooded, he grabbed my cheeks, shoving me against the wall before his lips crashed into mine. I could have pushed him off, I could have refused to open my mouth… but I didn’t. I let him in, let his tongue invade my mouth as it danced with my own. This was so much more than I imagined. His lips were rough and hard on mine, his kiss was raw. It was as if my kiss was the only thing that was going to save him, as if kissing me was the only way for him to get the last of the oxygen. As much as the kiss was amazing, sense finally crept over me as I shoved him away.

“How dare you?” I snapped, stepping towards him and shoving him again. But I didn’t stop. It felt good to let some of that rage seep through. I shoved him again, this time he stepped back. I smirked up at him. Compared to him, I was tiny. He was tall, broad, and heavy. I was no match for him, but it didn’t stop me from going at him.

“Finished?” he taunted me, stepping closer to me as he pinned me back to the wall.

I panted; my eyes glued to his as I saw the humour in them. Slapping his chest hard over and over, he grabbed my face hard and smirked at me.

I don’t know what happened, but something inside me snapped. My hungry eyes burned into his, words stayed unspoken between us and all I felt was desire. Burning, raging desire. My hands flew to his hair, entwining my fingers through his brown locks. His mouth covered mine before his hands moved from my cheeks, skimming down my body and ran under my bum, lifting me up effortlessly. My legs wrapped around his waist as I clung to him. Pinning me against the wall, his pelvis pressed into me. I could feel how hard he was, fuck. I felt my insides melting, the apex between my thighs burning. His fingers wrapped round the buttons of my shirt before ripping them open. Holy shit.

His lips crashed into mine, his large hands roaming over my bare flesh. Pulling his lips from mine, they moved to my jaw, my neck, my collar bone, nipping as he continued. His fingers pulled on my bra strap, slipping them down my arms so he could get to what he wanted. Pursing his lips round my small, pert breasts, licking and sucking as he did. My stomach knotted and twisted as the pleasure coursed through me. My hands tugging onto his hair, my small moans escaping my lips as he continued. I forgot what this felt like. To be worshipped and pleasured in this way again. His skilful mouth concentrated on every part of my bare skin before the primal animal returned.

“I need to fuck you, Buttercup,” he growled against my skin.

“Then fuck me,” I panted, lifting his head to kiss me. I needed his lips on mine.

Holding me tightly he walked towards my bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him as he dropped me onto the bed.

Unbuttoning his belt, he pushed his trousers and boxers down in one swift move. I perched myself up on my elbows. My torn shirt still on, my eyes trailed down his body to see what he was packing. And he was fucking packing.

Hard, thick and fucking beautiful.

His fingers worked quickly as he undone his shirt and let it fall to the floor before leaning down. His arm moving forward, his hand cupping my covered pussy as he shoved me up the bed towards the headboard.

“You are wearing too much,” he growled as he crawled over me, his fingers unbuttoning my trousers and tugging them down my legs.

I had small black cotton shorts on. No fancy lacy knickers. I was a comfort kind of girl. Hooking his fingers in the side of them, they were down and off in one swift movement.