Dear Heart, You Screwed Me(47)

“So ready, so wet,” he smirked as his voice trembled. Pushing his hand up my throat slightly, making my head lift higher, thrusting his cock into my pussy, hard and fast.

“Good girl,” he groaned, his eyes burning into mine as he fucked me hard against the wall. His pumps were slow and punishing. He was showing me just who I belonged to. It was him. It would always be him.

“You see how your tight little pussy takes my cock deep? It’s mine, we fit perfectly Reese, when will you realise that?” he pants, his grip on my thigh tightening as I begin to tingle all over. “You. Belong. To. Me.” he growls, pounding into me harder now, his cock pulling out to the tip, stretching me before slamming back into me. My back hitting the wall, but it felt good. I didn’t want him to stop.

“Killian,” I breathe.

“Say it louder,” he orders.

“Killian,” I cry out.

“What is it brat? Tell me,” he goads, his fingers loosening around my neck as he grins down at me.

“I’m close,” I cry, “so close.”

“I can feel your tight little cunt contracting around me, you love being fucked by me, don’t you? You like me using you, showing you who is in control. You act like a brat because you want this…” he buries his head into my neck, sucking and nipping on my bare skin. The pleasure rips through me as he continues to suck, his hand dropping from my throat and running under my bare bum, pulling my cheeks apart as he teases his finger in a place no man has been before.

“Killian,” the panic is apparent in my voice.

His fingertip pushes into my arse, I feel myself tighten around him.

“Act like a brat, I’ll treat you like one,” he growls, both of his hands under me now as he rocks his hips into me, hard and punishing thrusts.

“Now fucking come for me, wife,” he orders, his finger now filling my arse completely as I come hard, my whole-body trembling and shattering around him.

“Such a good girl,” he praises as he finds his own high, his orgasm causing him to shudder.

We both still, his finger slipping out of me, but his hard cock still buried deep inside of me. Grabbing my throat, his lips reach my ear.

“Now, I want you to go out there, like the brat that you are and get him to sign that fucking contract, so he belongs to my company while my cum runs down your legs.” His voice is low, pulling out of me and tucking himself back into his trousers. I stand on shaky legs, trying to catch my breath before he plants a kiss on my forehead and walks for the door.

His company?





CHAPTER 20





I had my hair scraped onto my head; my messy bun had strands of golden blonde falling out of it. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing, my kitchen was a tip. Grabbing the canned yams out of my cupboard, I turned my nose up. I googled yams, and they were sweet potatoes. I didn’t even know you could get them canned. Preheating the oven, I scanned through my check list. Patting my hands on my apron, as I sang along to Enchanted – Taylor Swift.

I drained the canned yams, placing them into a baking dish with a few chunks of butter evenly over the potatoes. Sprinkling brown sugar lightly before layering with miniature marshmallows.

Placing my hands on my hips I looked at the mush in front of me. I didn’t know if this was a main, a side or a dessert? I would never put potatoes with marshmallows. I scrunched my nose up before slipping it into the oven.

Perfect.

Reaching for the already opened bottle of wine, I topped my glass up feeling pretty pleased with myself.

I looked around my kitchen, I decided to give the green bean casserole a go, but looking at it, I don’t think I’ll bother taking it. Something, somewhere along the line, well, something went wrong.

I heard a bang on the door, rushing for it, I swung it open to see Connie.

“Hey!” I called out.

“Hey you, you not getting dressed?” she eyed me, her eyes looking at my apron of the body of a busty woman wearing next to nothing.

I looked down at myself.

“I’ve just got to clean myself up,” I chimed, a little tipsy.

“What is that smell?” she asked, turning her nose up and sniffing as she followed the scent into the kitchen.

“Oh my fuck, is that green bean casserole?!” she called out as I followed.

“Well… it is meant to be,” I shrugged.

“Bin it. Do not offend the food of our ancestors with that shit,” she cackled. She picked the container up and dumped it straight in the bin. I went to object, but she was right. I couldn’t show up at her dad’s place with that.

“Are you cooking candied yams?!” her eyes widened as she looked at the darkening dish in the oven.

I nodded happily, now them; them I am proud of.

“Oh, we don’t eat yams,” she winced, I could see the sorriness on her face, but it didn’t take long before she stifled her laugh.

“So all of my hard work has gone to shit,” I slapped my hand down on my thigh.

“I’m sorry,” she laughed, swigging from the bottle and slamming it down with force. “My dad makes lovely baked sweet potatoes, so we can just load up on them.”

“Screw that, I’m bringing the yams!” I call out, “Now give me five, let me get myself presentable.” I start to walk towards my bedroom, “and Connie,” I call out, “don’t let my yams burn.”