Fisher's Light(92)

“Do you really think you hurt me the night you came home from that last deployment and f*cked me against the kitchen wall?” I ask in shock.

He winces at my words and I can tell he honestly believes his loss of control that night is what cost us our marriage.

“Oh, my God, you do,” I mutter, taking a step closer to him. “If you would’ve talked to me instead of internalizing everything, I would’ve told you that it was the hottest damn experience of my life!”

He scoffs and looks at me like he doesn’t believe me, so I continue, moving closer until I can touch him. I run my hands up the front of his wet shirt, clutching it in my hands.

“I have never wanted you more than I did at that moment. Do you know what it’s like to know that your husband wants you so badly that he can’t spend another second outside of your body? That you’re all he thinks about and all he needs and he doesn’t have to speak or explain it, he just needs to claim you and own you, bruise you with the force of his need for you?”

I take another step closer until my body is pressed up against his.

“If you’d talked to me, you would’ve known that I loved seeing those bruises on my hips. I loved knowing that you wanted me that badly and I was sad when they disappeared, especially since you wouldn’t even look at me, let alone touch me by that point.”

He closes his eyes and tilts his head back and I keep going, closing my eyes right along with him and thinking about another night when he made me feel alive and wanted.

“And that night in the alley, a few months ago. You have no idea how much I wanted you. How much I needed your hands on me and how much it turned me on that you were jealous and you wanted to mark your f*cking territory. Did you hear me begging for more? Did you hear me scream your name while I was coming? You’re the only one who makes me feel that way.”

My eyes fly open in surprise when my body is suddenly whipped around. I gasp in shock when Fisher pushes his body against mine and my hips bump into the kitchen table. He slams into me and I have no choice but to bend over the table and smack my hands down on top of it. He’s right behind me, his chest pressed against my back as he breathes heavily in my ear.

“Goddammit, Lucy, what the hell are you doing to me?” he growls. His hands fly underneath my skirt and he rips my panties right off of my body.

“I ALWAYS want you so much that I can barely breathe from it. All I think about is f*cking you until I forget about everything but how it feels to be inside of you.”

I hear the button of his shorts fly off and ping against the kitchen floor as he rips them open. I whimper when he flips up the skirt of my dress and I feel the heat of his groin pressing into my ass and his cock sliding through me.

“Tell me you want this,” he demands. “Tell me you f*cking want me like this.”

I arch my back and push myself against him until his cock is right at my opening.

“I want this,” I pant.

“I need this. Show me how much you want me, please,” I beg.

He clutches onto my hips, pulls his body back and slams inside of me so hard that the table legs screech against the floor. He lets out a roar and I moan, clutching onto the edges of the table as he begins pounding into me.

“I’m f*cking claiming you, Lucy,” he mutters as his cock ravages me from the inside out.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I chant with each slam of his hips against my ass.

He leans over me, sliding one of his hands between my legs and circling my clit with the tips of his fingers as he continues f*cking me relentlessly.

“You are MINE and you will always be mine,” he whispers harshly against my ear.

“Don’t ever f*cking hide from me again,” I tell him as I thrust my hips forward against his fingers. “I need you. I need all of you.”

His fingers circle faster and his thrusts become harder. The table rocks beneath us, and if I cared about anything else but the orgasm creeping up on me, I’d worry about the legs giving out and us crashing to the floor and waking up the entire inn. The hundred-year-old kitchen table is practically the only piece of furniture in this place that Fisher didn’t build and its stability should probably be a cause for concern.

I forget about the table as Fisher takes me, claiming me just like I wanted, my body spiraling out of control at the knowledge that he’s finally letting go and giving me all of him. His hips smack against my ass rapidly and his fingers start tapping lightly against my clit until I’m clawing at the table and moaning so loudly I’m sure breaking the table isn’t what’s going to wake everyone up.