by Chelle Bliss
Much.
Five years ago, I might have caved to her too. But she killed that version of me, showing her true colors and her ability to throw me…us…away.
“I’m not on your father’s payroll.” I tightened my fingers around her wrist, not letting her go as she struggled against my hold. “You don’t get to bark orders at me.”
“That’s right,” she seethed, still jerking at her hand like she had any hope of breaking free from my grip. “You’re my husband.” She practically spat the word in my face. Hurling the term at me like it was supposed to mean something. Fuck, just that word from her mouth had my own temper brimming.
When I managed to speak, my words came out through clenched teeth as I tried to stop myself from yelling in her face. “Only when it’s convenient, wife.” I shook my head, sure that my own anger and disgust at what she’d done to me were clear and present in my expression. “For five fucking years, I didn’t exist to you. Now you want to pretend I meant any fucking thing? You used me like a dog, then ran from me like a fucking coward. I meant nothing to you.”
Cara rocked back. A soft, barely audible gasp passed through her gaping mouth like my words were a punch to her gut. “How can you say that to me?”
“You threw me to the wolves without worrying about my feelings, or hell, even my life. Let’s stop lying to each other. I was working a story, you were covering your ass.” I dropped her hand, forcing a laugh when her eyes went wide. “The off-the-charts sex, though, that was just a perk of the job.” Those words felt thick on my tongue and tasted bitter. God help me, I couldn’t stop myself from hurting her. She’d done the same to me. She’d still do the same to me given half a chance.
Vinnie was a threat. Cara was an opportunist, and she’d pulled me back into the bullshit of her family life. For just a second, I wanted to hurt her. I wanted to give back a taste of the pain she’d given me.
“Fucking isn’t enough. Never was. Bottom line of us, sweetheart? We had something small. Inconsequential and little thing that it was, you killed it. That shit will stay fucking dead, just like my feelings for you.”
The sound Cara released then sounded more guttural. More primal than before. I expected her rage. I expected her fury, but I didn’t expect her to clench her hand into a fist and lunge forward, coming at me like she wanted to see me bleed.
“Hell no,” I said, grabbing one arm and twisting her. Cara’s back thudded against my chest, and I pulled her against me tightly, holding her free arm out to the side.
“Let me go, Kiel,” she said, clenching her jaw so tightly only her lips moved.
“Tell me you love me, then,” I teased, baiting her into saying the words that used to slip from her mouth so easily. I brushed my lips against her jaw, sliding them so close to her mouth I could feel her warm breath blow across my face. “Tell me you want me, Cara.”
She parted her lips as she slid her gaze to mine, finally stilling in my arms. “Fuck you.”
“You always loved to, didn’t you?” She growled as I moved my hand to her ass, cupping her cheek roughly and pressing her ass against my cock. “Doggy. Missionary. Head down, ass up. Reverse cowgirl.” I smirked, basking in her anger, knowing my attitude was getting to her. But I wasn’t a liar. Fuck, she loved to mix it up with me. Reverse cowgirl.
Her favorite and mine.
Hell, I still had fantasies about that shit.
“Kiel,” she said, whispering my name like she used to when I’d slide between her thighs, teasing her until she begged for my cock.
Cara didn’t budge when I dropped her free arm to tangle my fingers in all that thick, dark hair. I guided her head, twisting her face close to sweep my tongue across her bottom lip. I remembered the sweet taste only Cara had and teased myself in the process. “The way you’d rock into me, taking me deep, clawing at my back, and moaning my name.”
Cara tilted her head until our lips touched. The anger was almost gone from her expression. Without realizing how it had happened, my cock twitched. The throb of it worsened when Cara rubbed her round ass against me.
I hated her.
I wanted her.
So much shit got tangled in my head over this woman, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to free myself from her completely.
She licked her bottom lip, that warm muscle sliding against my mouth. Her breath was hot and slow and so fucking delicious. “Please,” she whispered and squeezed her eyes closed.
I released her hair, turning her to slide my hand down her arm until I found the curve of her waist. Her breathing faltered, eyes still closed as I dragged my tongue across her lips and tasted her sweet mouth.
A small, low moan escaped the back of my throat as I tasted her warm mouth, remembering the way our bodies used to move together.
We’d been so in sync. So connected. It was a dance with no steps.
Just our bodies.
Just the moment and the deep, ancient need to touch and devour and be. “I’ve missed you.” She moved her arm around my neck as I skated a hand up her ribs, coming to rest under her breasts with my thumb dangerously close to her nipple. Cara shuddered, pushing her breasts closer to my hand. “I’ve missed us.”
My resistance was nearly nonexistent now. Cock hard. Head full of her scent. Her warm, fit body against me and that break in control only cracked wider when she tangled her fingers in my hair and pressed her lips to mine.
In that moment, I wasn’t thinking about how much I’d loved her. There was only the sensation of what she did to my body. How easy it was to remember that dance again and claim this woman’s body.
It wouldn’t last. How could it?
I’d buried the hurt I’d never totally forgotten. But I still remembered every bit of pain, betrayal, and regret I’d felt since the day I left New York, cursing the day I ever let myself get wrapped up with Cara.
One last time, I told myself as I swept a thumb across her nipple, putting into motion something I knew I couldn’t stop.
I wanted the end I didn’t get five years ago.
I wanted one last touch that would really be the last.
I wanted her to beg.
“Say you want me,” I growled as I kneaded her ass and my hard cock strained against my jeans, pleading to get lost in her one last time.
“I…I want you, Kiel.” Her voice was sweet and soft as she said my name, the sound like a weak purr that took effort to release. Cara blinked slowly, gaze shifting around my face, tits moving closer to my touch, then she released one last moan, a hum that sounded like want and need and fucking sex itself. “I… Shit, Kiel,” she said, eyes half lidded but still hungry. “Fuck me,” she moaned.
Any fight I had left died in that moment at those two moaned words.
Need overcame anger and hurt.
Hunger took betrayal.
The urge to touch her was overwhelming.
I found the bottom of her shirt, slowly gliding my fingers across her velvet skin as I lifted the top over her head, exposing her strapless black lace bra.
I leaned forward, dragging my tongue against the swell of her breasts. She tipped her head back, offering herself to me as she shoved her hands under my shirt. That touch seared me, those sharp nails against my ribs as she sank them into my skin, trembling against my arms. The pace was too slow, and it had been too long. Now need took precedence, and I slipped my fingers under her bra, pulling the fabric free and tossing it to the floor.
Cara went at me with the same desperate speed, fingers moving frantically, yanking at the button of my jeans and fumbling with my zipper as my mouth closed around one nipple while I pinched the other.
The tremble left her limbs as she slid her fingers into my waistband, forcing my pants down far enough for my cock to spring free. The warmth of her palm enveloped me, turning the dull ache into a deep, painful throb only she could soothe.
For a moment, I forgot I hated her.
In that split second, with my lips tightening around her nipple, her hand sli
ding against my cock, she owned me just like she had before she crushed my heart and tossed me out like a piece of trash.
This wasn’t about loving each other.
That moment had passed, and our fucking had never been tender or sweet.
It wouldn’t be now.
My cock was like solid rock in her expert hand as she stroked my shaft harder, faster, so tight and hot that I had to pull away.
I grabbed her shoulders, regretting the moment her hand slipped from my skin. I spun her around and bent her over the couch. She pushed her ass out, offering all she had, and I was more than happy to take everything I could.
I moved one hand from her cheek, using it to tug my shirt over my head and slid my free hand to her thighs, bunching her skirt near her waist before I rested my fingers between her legs. I wanted her warm flesh against me. I wanted everything she offered.
She gasped as my tongue caressed the curve of her ear and my fingers glided across her slick skin. “Always so wet for me, Cara.” She started to rise, but I pressed my front against her back, ending the last bit of fight she had as my fingers slipped to her opening. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
I gave her one final out. One way to stop what was about to happen, but I knew she wouldn’t.
We both wanted it.
We both craved the feel of the other’s touch from the moment our bodies came together.
No amount of time or pain changed that.
She peered over her shoulder, panting as I pushed my fingertips through her wetness, teasing her. “More… Give me…more, and don’t stop,” she rasped with her chin in my hand, holding her head back so I could see her eyes.
I smiled against her ear, more than happy to give her what she wanted, hating and loving her at the same time. “Always a greedy little cunt,” I told her as I pushed my fingers inside, filling her.
Cara thrust her ass backward, always eager, always taking without asking and having no remorse.
That was the thing about my wife I’d learned after my world fell apart. She felt no guilt. Felt no grief about her brother almost ending my life or sending the cops after me. Just as I felt no compassion or pity for the way I was about to fuck her, using her for pleasure and nothing more.
Rocking against her, I bit the delicate curve of her shoulder near her neck, plunging my fingers deeper. My cock glided across the soft skin of her ass, throbbing to be buried deep inside her. Cara’s pussy clamped down on my fingers like she loved the way I stroked her.
That shit hadn’t changed.
She was still so eager to show me how much she liked what I did to her body.
Cara’s pants and low moans echoed in my ear as I licked across her skin, soothing the teeth marks I no doubt left.
So hot.
So sweet, so ready to be fucked.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
I tugged my hand backward, placing the tip of my cock where my fingers had just been. She shifted, rocking forward on her tiptoes as I plunged my dick into her, impaling her until there was no more to take.
I wrapped my hand around her waist, holding her in place as I pummeled into her. Those low, hungry moans were like a song. Something fast like heavy metal, a machine-gun blast of music and sound, and fuck, did I love every note.
She writhed underneath me. Five thrusts in and she was already begging for more. Her fast, throbbing pulse beat against my fingers as I wrapped them around her neck, slipping my hand up to tangle her hair in my fist.
She screamed, “Oh God,” as I tightened my grip, tipping her head back and controlling her movement.
But God wasn’t going to save her or give her absolution.
Only me.
The man she’d wronged.
The one she claimed to love, but only when it was convenient.
I let out a growl, shoving my cock so deep even I lost my breath. The familiar tingle traveled up my spine as my muscles strained, chasing the orgasm I wanted more than air. My even strokes became stunted and unsteady as my balls grew heavy, slapping against her ass with each forward push. She rocked backward, sliding her hand between her legs to give herself the orgasm I wasn’t going to give her.
The first upsurge of pleasure crashed over me, sending shock waves through my system as I shuddered against her back. I gasped, trying to find air but unable to breathe as I picked up the pace, riding the last crest and spilling everything I had into my wife.
Cara moaned, stroking her clit faster as she followed me down the spiral. Panting, I released her hair, pressing my body against her back, and she shuddered underneath me.
“Fuck,” she whispered.
“We did,” I told her, pushing away from her, wanting this over and done. There wouldn’t be any cuddling or spooning as we drifted off to sleep.
Vinnie had worried me, but not enough that I’d be making bullshit professions of love.
Cara turned, body glistening with sweat and her skirt still bunched around her waist. “Kiel,” she said, taking a step forward as I moved back.
I shook my head, not wanting to hear anything she had to say as I pulled up my pants. “Don’t start.”
She frowned, and I saw the swift flash of hurt that she tried to tamp down. It didn’t work, and I ignored the nagging voice in my head that called me out for being an asshole. She opened her mouth but didn’t speak, and I scrubbed my face, throwing a smirk on my mouth at the frown she gave me.
“It is what it is, sweetheart. Now it’s over. You’ve got protection. Those goons of yours will have your back. Go home.”
Her eyes flashed, a mix of anger and hurt crossing her face, and her hands balled into fists at her sides. “But we just…” She motioned between us, jerking a glare at me when I laughed.
She watched me as I tucked my cock away and zipped my pants. “I never wanted to be mixed up in your father’s business, but you pulled me in without giving two fucks about my life or what I wanted.”
Cara took a step. An excuse was ready on her tongue from the way she immediately opened her mouth, but I shook my head, stopping her bullshit before she could speak it. “You want a husband, and I want that newspaper gig. You need protection, fine. I’ll give it to you. But don’t expect much more than that from me.”
“But we…” she repeated, like she couldn’t believe I’d fuck her and not want more. “You just…” Moisture pooled in her eyes, and her lip trembled as I grabbed my shirt off the floor. Her voice was soft as she placed her hand over her mouth. “You can’t expect me to believe you feel nothing for me at all.”
“I never said I didn’t. If something happens to you, it would piss me off. Something bad happens to you, maybe I’d get shit square with whoever did that to you.” I pulled the shirt over my head, not caring that it was wrinkled and smelled like sex. “But that doesn’t mean I’m a gullible asshole willing to dive right back between your thighs anytime you want to fuck me.”
When Cara flinched, as though my words punched her in the gut, I tilted my head, honestly confused why she looked so damn hurt. “What?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I thought…”
“I took what I wanted just like you always do. I fucked you, nothing more.”
She lurched forward, hand in the air, ready to strike again, but I grabbed her arm, stopping her. “I hate you,” she said, her voice low, icy, and full of venom.
“That makes two of us.”
But I wasn’t talking about Cara.
God, I loved her.
Even now with her eyes shining, lips pulled tight, baring her teeth, I wanted her.
She deserved the panic, the unsettled feeling deep in her stomach, the pain of being abandoned.
For five years, I’d tried to convince myself I hated her. The person I hated the most in the world was myself.
I hated that I loved her.
I hated that I cared.
I hated that I wasn’t sure I could turn my back and walk away even if I wanted her to think I could.
&nbs
p; 10
Cara
There were never enough choices.
Money and power could bring you a few.
They did their part to open doors and keep those bastards from closing again, but that didn’t go very far.
It didn’t make someone love you.
Or, in my case, love you again.
My husband fucked me like a whore. Bent me over a sofa and took what he wanted.
Normally, I wouldn’t have complained; every way Kiel touched me shot fire and need through my veins. But he’d touched me two nights ago and promised it meant nothing.
I meant nothing.
The fuck did you expect?
I’d been a coward. I’d left him to my brother and the assholes that did my father’s bidding. Kiel wasn’t wrong. I’d treated him as a husband of convenience.
Like he was nobody.
I fucked you, nothing more.
That admission went deep.
It reminded me of what I’d done five years ago.
It reminded me of the pain I’d caused him.
Now Kiel was giving it all back to me.
Has your husband called yet?
I thought of not responding to my brother’s text. He’d been in on this plan from the beginning, from the second I’d told him the truth about Kiel and me. Now he was concerned, but that had nothing to do with my marriage and everything to do with how hurt my father had been.
No.
My thumb hovered over the phone as I hesitated with what I wanted to know. I was proud. I was stubborn, but I was still worried about my father.
Is Papa still angry?
The small dots on the message flitted across the screen, and I was sure Johnny was writing a paragraph. Maybe I hoped he was, but when he stopped typing and the text came through, I guessed my brother had written, erased, and rewritten the truth repeatedly. Each one would likely sting less than the one before.