Haunted(44)

“I know it’s you, Roman. I know it’s you.” She pulled down my head and kissed me in a way that I couldn’t deny. Then I proceeded to make love to my wife.




Chapter 33 – Roman



Two weeks had passed since we’d moved in, and I walked into the kitchen during the middle of the day. I was going to get a snack, and I saw that Beth was on the phone.

“Please, Eric!” Beth begged.

I had to admit my feelings were a bit irrational, but, damn it, it f*cking crawled all over me that my wife was begging her ex-husband for something.

I was her husband! I gave her what she needed. Not him. I remembered when I found out that Beth paid for the baby grand piano out of her savings. I felt as though she thought I couldn’t take care of her. She, in turn, told me it didn’t feel like a gift if she used my money. It was then that I had a talk with her about “what is mine is yours.” Beth wasn’t used to having a lot of money. Before we got married, she’d offered to sign a pre-nup, but it only confirmed what I knew. Beth loved me for me and not for my money. I trusted Beth with everything, and I didn’t need a pre-nup to tell me what I already knew. We were forever.

“Pleeeaaassseee!”

Oh f*ck! Now I was pissed! She was using that little sultry tone she used when she wanted something. A tone she should only use with me.

“Really, Eric? Thank you. Thank you! I owe you one, okay? Thanks.” She hung up the phone and sensed I was in the room. She turned around and her face was ecstatic. Then it immediately fell.

“What?” she asked as she studied me.

“Why are you flirting with Eric and what the f*ck are you begging him for?”

She looked confused. I realized she had no idea what she was doing.

“You were flirting with Eric!”

“No.” She sounded confident with her answer, and she shook her head.

“Please, I will make it worth your while!” I imitated her. “That’s the move you make on me when you want something and then I get a blow job!”

She gaped.

“Did you ever use that move with Eric? Huh? Whatever you were begging him for I am sure he forked it over. He probably had all these happy memories of you sucking his dick!” I slammed down my hand on the counter. I was pissed. Who knew I would be such a jealous bastard?

“You’re a prick!” She walked to the foyer and grabbed her purse from the table.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“Out!”

“Not without me you aren’t! We don’t have a bodyguard scheduled to come in until Joey comes home from school.”

She completely ignored me. I jumped in front of the door.

“Move!” she yelled in my face.

“No, it’s not safe for you to be out there by yourself!”

She knew I was right, but she had her pride. I could see her wheels turning. Once Beth was pissed, I had to ride it out.

She fell to her knees and unzipped my jeans. What the f*ck? She aggressively pulled them down to my ankles. My feet were bare, but I wasn’t going to step out of my jeans in fear that this was a trap that would allow her to run outside while I was naked. She grabbed my dick, which I hated to admit was already hard and ready from her just touching the zipper.

Yep, she has my dick trained.

Her mouth descended on it with a fury. This was similar to an anger bang, but it was an anger blow job, which I never ever had heard of until today. My head hit the window on the door in pleasure. She was sucking and sucking deep. I kept hearing her gag, which was a f*cking huge turn on. I looked down and she was looking at me with my dick in her mouth. She was still angry; I could see it in her eyes. I was sure this was a trap of some kind, but I couldn’t think rational thoughts. My hand went to her head, and I pulled out the clip and threw it somewhere in the living room.

I threaded my fingers through her long hair to get a firm grip on her so she wouldn’t trick me and escape to her CRV. I was going to explode any moment and then she stood.

“Beat it off yourself because that is the last time you will be getting head from me, *.”

What? Oh, hell no. She walked into the living room as though nothing happened. I was hard and throbbing, and she was walking away. Not anymore. I grabbed her wrist and twirled her, causing her to fall onto the couch. I grabbed the waist of her sweatpants and took one minute to look into her eyes to see if this reminded her of the rapes. I knew my wife, and most of the time I could tell what she was thinking with her eyes. She wasn’t scared. She was still pissed, so game on.

I pulled off her sweats, taking her shoes too. She had on pretty little bikini panties. I looked at her eyes again; she was still pissed with a hint of arousal. I tore off the panties and slid her butt to the edge of the couch. I pushed into her with just one stroke, and she was soaking wet. She was f*cking turned on, little vixen. I pumped in and out a few times before she put her feet on my shoulders and pushed me out of her.

Again, I was not expecting that, but I knew she was into it. I wouldn’t have continued if I thought it brought up an old ghost, but there were no ghosts here. Just a horny man and a horny but slightly pissed off woman. It was time to take her down.

She jumped over the couch and made a break for the stairs. Shit, she was fast when she needed to be. I chased her up the stairs and caught her leg right when she slipped on the landing. I pulled her to me. My knees were on the last step before the landing; I was so glad the steps are carpeted. I pushed into her again and this earned me a low moan. I pushed in deep, and I ended up on the landing myself.