by Evelyn Vox
After I popped an ibuprofen to lessen the swelling, I dried my hair and covered myself up with long leggings. I was exhausted and collapsed right into my bed. My thoughts went between wishing I was in Derek's arms to wondering if any amount of tanning would help hide the marks...until I woke up to Brian's soft weight next to me in bed.
The first thing I noticed was how stiff and sore I was. It hit me before I even opened my eyes. Brian rubbed a warm hand on the skin between my shoulders. I looked up at him through blurry, sleep-deprived eyes. He smiled and kissed me on the cheek.
"Go back to sleep, Lexie," he whispered as he climbed beside me and pulled me into him. I tried not to wince. "It's just after five."
"Mmm," I snuggled into him, remembering to play my part, "I didn't expect you."
I closed my eyes and feigned sleep, but the truth was that I was trying not to cry. The guilt ate at me until sleep dragged me under again. When I woke up, Brian's dick was hard and pushing suggestively into my sore behind. His hands rubbed my stomach, and I knew where they were about to roam. I placed my own on his, stopping them.
"Baby, I don't feel very well."
He leaned over me, his face a picture of concern.
"What's wrong?"
"Stomach," I said like I'd planned, "I think I ate something bad last night. Can we just cuddle?"
"Of course, Baby," he said, and I knew he meant it, "I'm just happy to be home with you."
I slept restlessly until the midday sun shone in my eyes. It was lunchtime. The entirety of my body was on fire. I felt the abuse in my pussy and my ass with every step I took. My nipples were tender and sore just rubbing against the fabric of my soft tank top.
Even my voice was raspy from all the screaming. Derek really did a number on me. Devious man; every bit of pain brought the memory of him and our night into the forefront of my mind. I was sure that was precisely how he wanted it.
I found Brian in his office. I padded in with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders.
"My poor wife," he said with his eyebrows raised in concern, "do you want me to make you some soup?"
"Yes, please," I said, playing the part, "How long will you be here to take care of me?"
"I'll leave Monday night."
Two days with him. One of them with Derek in the house when the crew returned on Monday. I could keep this up. It would be fine, I told myself. Secretly, I was terrified that it wouldn't be, that Derek would blow his top the second he saw Brian.
I remembered what happened the last time they were in the house together when Derek showed up unannounced that Sunday morning. I gulped. I would need to give my volatile contractor-turned-kinky-lover a wide berth.
"Who patched up the window?" Brian asked innocently, and I had the irrational worry that my thoughts were loud enough for him to hear.
"Oh, it was the contractor," I said, hoping to keep my voice even.
"I'm glad he was here to help out," Brian said as we walked into the kitchen, "I should have been here. I'm sorry, Lexie."
I was taken aback. This was too much.
"It's fine," I told him honestly.
"Derek is such a manly man," he laughed, but I could tell he was hiding his insecurity, "I hope it's okay to leave you in the house with him all the time."
Oh god, twist the knife even deeper into my guilt-ridden heart.
"Well, let's put it this way," I said, sitting gingerly on a stool at the counter, "I don't think Derek is the kind of man who'd make his sick wife soup."
Just ham and swiss sandwiches after rigorous bouts of torture and fucking.
He smiled at me with relief. I was a lying, awful person. I was hurting this sweet man before me, and for what? Because, a wicked voice purred in my head, you're Derek's dirty little slut, and you'll lie your ass off it is means getting a taste of that man again.
I had no idea where that came from. Something was happening to me. I was changing and it scared me. I didn't even recognize the thoughts in my own head anymore. I watched Brian make chicken soup from a can, and the full realization that I had gone down a path of no return hit me hard.
"I'm going to lie down on the sofa," I told Brian.
"Okay, I'll bring you some soup soon," he called as I shuffled into the living room.
I was so completely fucked. I was in way too deep. All of it had happened so fast. I accepted that I wanted this, that I wanted Derek, but I wasn't ready for the way the guilt would eat me inside out. Even worse, I wasn't ready for the way that guilt made me feel even dirtier, sluttier, and more wholly Derek's than ever.
Just the thought had my clit throbbing for him. This was so messed up. I ignored the arousal budding between my legs. I wasn't able to deal with this right now. My head hit the sofa cushions and I stared up at the red and gold ceiling. I knew sneaking around would take a toll on me. I know it would be difficult.
What I didn't know was how much I'd enjoy the deception.
Chapter Twenty-Three
LEXIE
I hadn't heard from Derek all day. I knew in my bones he was pissed. I followed his lead and decided it would be best to keep my distance. By the time we went to bed, I was feeling better. I was still sore and exhausted, but the pain was less acute and the marks had faded significantly.
Brian and I spent a lazy day on the sofa watching movies. It was nice. Really nice. We hadn't spent a day like that together in a long time. When we settled into bed, he nuzzled up next to me and kissed my neck. A sweet, gentle touch. My body tensed in preparation for a slap or a pinch, but there was only softness in every move of Brian's hands. I stifled a page of disappointment.
"I know you're not up for it," he told me, "but maybe I can make you feel just a bit better."
He palmed me between the legs. It wasn't the same kind of fire that burned for Derek, but a warmth, a desire to connect and feel intimacy with this man, ignited inside of me. It was dark in the room, and as long as I stayed in bed, I didn't think Brian would be able to see the marks.
I leaned into his touch and that was all the encouragement he needed. Brian's hands on me were gentle, so compassionate, that I didn't know how to feel. It was so different from Derek's brutality. Though my body needed tenderness in that moment, there was that newly awakened voice inside of me aching for something more. Something harder. Something distinctly Derek flavored.
Brian rolled over so he was on top of me and lifted up my shirt. He placed annoyingly light kisses on each of my perked nipples before kissing down to my pussy. His hands brushed my hips, encouraging them to lift, before he inched my pants down my legs.
"You're so beautiful, Lexie," he sighed, his chocolate eyes sparking as he looked up at me from between my thighs.
Then his mouth was on me, his lips suckled my clit and his tongue worked me up to a sweet, gentle orgasm that my body tried to fight. Until I remembered that with Brian, I could come, so I let him work me up to that peak. When I came, it felt like a soft landing.
It was nothing like orgasming with Derek. It was a mockery of those climaxes that shattered and tore me apart until I was overwrought with pleasure.
"Delicious," he murmured, and my mind jolted back to the time when Derek said the same thing.
How his crystal gray eyes gleamed with a darkness that Brian's could never have. I wouldn't ever want Brian to look at me that way.
"I love pleasing you, Baby," he said, crawling back up my body.
His eyes held nothing but affection for me. The guilt was too much. I grabbed him and kissed him fiercely. All of a sudden, I needed him inside me. I had to please him, I had to be a good wife for him.
"Oh Brian," I moaned, "I want you."
"Are you sure?"
Always so concerned for me. My heart swelled. I reached for his dick and felt his eager arousal. I pulled him out of his pants and stroked him for a few beats until he rolled on top of me. He was a solid, comforting weight. I guided him inside with one hand.
He pushed through my abused, swollen walls, and I
had to turn my face to hide my grimace of pain. Brian thrust with gentle strokes, sensing that I needed this to be slow and soft. We made compassionate, sweet love until we were gasping with pleasure and bursting with love for one another.
He held me close as he fell asleep. The gentle sound of his breathing was the audience to the thoughts that I couldn't turn off. I needed this too, I realized. As much as I needed Derek's unchecked and barbaric lust, there was a part of me that needed love and affection too.
I supposed there were things that each of them gave me that the other couldn't. Maybe people weren't so simple that one person could fulfill another's needs for an entire lifetime. I wondered if there were things that Brian needed that I wasn't giving him. Things that maybe I couldn't give him.
Then I wondered if I wasn't completely full of shit. If this was nothing more than a guilt-driven burst of affection for a man who hadn't truly satisfied me in years. Because I'd finally found what I needed and it wasn't with him.
It was with Derek.
DEREK
I threw her on the ground. Her skin was pressed against me tightly. My prey; cornered, trembling, helpless, mine. I shoved her cheek into the floor as I ripped her panties off. I wasted no time in pummeling my fat, erect cock into her achingly sweet pussy.
"Watch," I growled, looking at the man bloodied and beaten on the floor, "watch as I fuck your wife, Brian. Watch as she comes harder for me than she ever could for you."
The man wailed pathetically, his eyes never leaving us. I rammed into Alexandra, keeping her pinned and fucking her raw, just the way she liked it. She moaned out in pleasure, Brian wept like a little bitch on the floor, and my orgasm thundered so hard into me that I ripped at the seams.
I bolted upright in bed, shaking and breathless; a fresh load was sticky hot on the inside of my boxers. Dreams like this had been plaguing me since Alexandra left, but this was the first time I'd had a fucking wet dream in years. I felt like a god damn teenager as I climbed out of bed and peeled the soiled boxers off. The dream did little to take the edge off of my agitation, my uncontrollable lust.
Knowing she was with Brian was driving me crazy.
Not hearing a peep from her didn't help. I didn't expect to respond so aggressively to this, but I was, and it needed to be addressed. I would talk to her today. Surely, he was gone by now, and we needed to have a conversation about how she should act when she was with him.
The beast inside of me needed to know she was as obsessed with me as I was with her.
I needed to know that she understood that her husband did not compare to me.
Today, I would make my expectations crystal clear.
She could have warned me he hadn't left yet.
She could have given me the chance to prepare myself for the shock of seeing them together.
That would have been too considerate for the Brat. It would mean she would have to give a damn about how it would feel for me to walk into their house today to the sound of them fucking. The crew laughed and cracked jokes when we heard the soft little gasps, the creaking of the bed as it leaked down from the open bedroom door above us. They made light of it and went about their work.
But me?
My anger was a maelstrom inside of me. The beast was in a rabid frenzy.
She was mine. She'd said it herself.
I'm yours! I'm yours!
I repressed a shudder as I remembered the way she screamed it out in the throes of her orgasm. From the sound of them, that man (if one could even call him that) was nowhere close to making her squeal the way I did. I tried to hide from the crew that I was listening, very closely, to the sounds she was making. I tried to decipher their language of pleasure, tried to figure out what, exactly, it was they were doing up there. My unusual preoccupation with it did not go unnoticed.
I didn't care.
I thought she had learned her lesson. Her pleasure was mine. I never gave her permission to come. Especially not with him.
Entitled, rich, bitch.
Her musical laugh lilted down the stairs, and she sounded so happy I could have punched the wall. My fists were clenched and ready. Those were my church bells to worship, not his. It took everything I had not to barge in there and claim what was mine.
Because she was mine.
Alexandra needed to be reminded of that.
Chapter Twenty-Four
LEXIE
I couldn't say no to those big brown eyes when they looked at me this morning. Brian and I tried to keep it quick, keep it quiet, but we lost track of time. When I walked downstairs and saw the construction crew, it had been a shock. I hadn't realized they were here already. When I greeted them, the look on Derek's face was one of pure malice. I knew from the moment those gray eyes pierced me that he'd heard.
He was going to make me pay for this.
So much for giving him a wide berth. I gulped down the fear in my throat as I skirted the crew. From the looks of it, they'd be finished with the foyer soon. I tried to play it cool, tried to pretend not to notice the way Derek's eyes followed my every movement like a lion stalking a gazelle.
I couldn't get into the kitchen soon enough. I released the breath I'd been holding and opened the back door for the dogs with shaking hands. I didn't expect it when I felt him behind me. He stalked in on silent feet and had me cornered against the glass doors. His hard torso pressed into my back and pinned me against the glass.
"Whatever happened to not being in any condition to fuck, Alexandra?" he snarled with a gnash of teeth in my ear.
I was paralyzed to the spot, my voice frozen. He took a whiff of my neck, something usually so erotic, but this time, it was nothing short of terrifying as he grabbed my throat with a squeeze.
"You reek of him."
Mild panic surged through me. Brian was taking a shower but he wouldn't be upstairs long. He could walk in here at any moment. There was something more than just panic. I felt a thrill of excitement, a naughty little pang of desire. The devious, impish will to flaunt this right under Brian's unsuspecting nose.
Derek pressed his groin into my ass, and I could feel how hard he was through his jeans. Without warning, he cupped viciously between my thighs, his hands curled into the fabric of my leggings, and I let out a strangled yelp.
"I bet you reek even more of him down here."
His fingers bit into my flesh, clawing at me as if he could rip right through the fabric and claim me for his own once more. Derek had me by my neck and my pussy, the hold so dominant I could have melted. I would have gladly rolled on my back to expose the soft flesh of my belly to him.
I whimpered again and it had nothing to do with fear. I rocked my mound against the hard expanse of his hand, and he growled in my ear.
"I don't care if he finds us. I don't care that he was just inside of you. I'm going to remind you exactly who you belong to, Brat."
His hands were an efficient blur. Before I knew it, my leggings were pulled down my ass and his cock jutted out of his fly. I didn't have to protest, I couldn't even find the words around my own thudding heart to tell him to stop.
I didn't want him to stop. I wanted to be fucked then and there.
Because the fear of discovery was making the act all the more enjoyable.
Derek speared into me, hard and rough from behind. My hands splayed out on the glass doors. I felt so exposed looking out into the yard and pressed against the glass for anyone to see. I had no sense of what was going on behind us--if anyone else was nearby, and it was overwhelming.
I bit back my moans of pleasure and pain as Derek filled me to the hilt. His huge girth stretched me out in ways Brian never could. His touch blazed into my skin, searing away any trace of my husband's. He didn't do anything to enhance my pleasure, didn't rub my clit or fill his hands with my breasts.
No, he was using me. He was reminding me that he could use me any way he saw fit. That my pleasure was an afterthought, a boon he bestowed upon me when he felt like it. Derek fucked me fast and ha
rd, like I was nothing more than an object. My only purpose, my only reason for existence, was to pleasure him.
I was dangerously close to coming.
"Don't you dare," he hissed, "you do not get to orgasm."
Thick, wet thwacks filled the air as he speared me over and over. I fended off the pleasure licking between my thighs, building to a roaring blaze in my clit, and focused on the pain. I focused on the hands that held me there, uncaring and cold, and the cock that rammed into me with indifference.
I was still dangerously close to coming.
It was a mercy when he groaned and pulled out just enough that I felt his cum dribble out of me as he filled me with it. He breathed heavily for a moment before sliding out of me fully. He released me before pulling my leggings back up without giving me a chance to wipe the mess away.
"Do not clean yourself, Brat," he said, his voice cold.
I turned and watched as he put himself back in his pants. The sound of the zipper closing ripped through the still air with authority.
"I want my cum dribbling between your thighs, in your panties, and inside of you when you talk to him. I want you to remember who you belong to."
Derek paralyzed me with his gaze. His face closed in to stare me down.
"And every time you feel it, I want you to remember that you're nothing more than a dirty fucking slut with a better man's jizz filling that sweet little cunt of yours."
My eyes were wide and my pulse beat in my ears. I felt woozy and faint with lust.
"What do you say, Brat?" he snapped as he bored into me with all the dominance, all the masculine power he had.
I wanted to roll on my back and show him my soft belly.
"Yes, Sir," I whispered as I looked at him from under my lashes; submissive and obedient.