sensual movements. My skin flushed everywhere he touched. He bent over, his mouth fitted to my neck. His hand returned between my thighs.
I clenched on his diving fingers. My wetness echoed obscenely as I battled the roaring fire inside me. I made pitiful noises as he worked methodically, curling his fingers to the tight bundle of nerves.
Don’t come.
I needed to come. The spiral of ecstasy became a whirlwind. Then I clenched hard, screaming into my panties. I couldn’t control my frenzied yelling. I craved his hands, his mouth, his naked skin pressed to mine.
Tony ripped the panties from my mouth. Lust flared in his eyes as he caged me in his arms.
I rose to meet him, and we crashed into each other. I pulled his hair. His mouth descended on mine as passion flooded my veins. He was devouring and harsh. Like he sought every last drop of resistance and couldn’t live without kissing me.
It was possession.
I’d surrendered completely. My body shook with liquid fire, and an orgasm gripped me. I cried into his shoulder, soaring in the clouds.
Then he came undone.
Tony released his breath in a groan, and wet heat shot across my breasts. His body seized. Then it fell into an undulating motion. His shoulders rolled, the tension melting from his brows, his clenched jaw, softening his eyes. Another wave seemed to hit him, and he scooped the seed into his palm. His semen coated the fingers he shoved inside me.
“There,” he said raggedly. “I’m no longer lax in my duties as a husband.”
It triggered another orgasm that made me clutch his arm as he fucked me with his cum. My head touched the floor as I panted from two orgasms seconds apart.
Holy hell.
He loosened the collar and picked me up. I was dead weight, useless for walking. I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with him.
Tony lifted me on his lap, his expression still fiery.
Good lord, the man could hold a grudge.
“Thank me for teaching you a lesson.”
“Thank you.”
His nostrils flared. “Come again?”
“Thank you, sir.”
For some reason, that didn’t satisfy him. Tony’s hostility returned in a flash.
“Are you?” he challenged. “Are you grateful for anything I’ve done?”
My cheeks warmed. “Of course I am.”
Holy shit.
He hadn’t meant for me to enjoy this. The spanking, the exhibition, any of it. The glow from my orgasm popped like a dirty soap bubble, and heat wrapped my throat. He was so screwed up.
“I watch you, Evie. I know your habits and your routine. You spend a lot of time sketching.” His raking gaze halted over my mouth, and then he pulled a book from his pocket. “And you write in this every morning.”
He waved it at me.
My gratitude journal.
That’s private, you dick.
He’d waited for the perfect moment to humiliate me. He sneered as though expecting me to have a meltdown. When I didn’t, he flipped it open and held it to his nose.
“I’m grateful for fresh fruit. I’m grateful my husband never speaks to me. I’m grateful for Egyptian cotton sheets.” He paused, cringing. “Evie, I’m starting to feel sorry for you.”
He was incapable of happiness, even with his vast wealth. It would’ve been easy to throw that at him, but something had scarred him deeply, and it wasn’t his silver-spooned upbringing.
I was sick of not knowing.
“Don’t pity me. I’m happy to have all those things.”
“There’s nothing about happiness in here.” He sounded perplexed and a little annoyed. “It’s stuff. A fire could take it all away tomorrow.”
“Or you could be ripped from it all and be forced to live somewhere horrible. Where you won’t know if you’ll survive or who to trust or where to go for help.”
Tony flinched. His dark eyes shone with tortured dullness. He glanced at me and the book, disoriented. Then he cleared his throat and scanned the pages.
“You mention me an awful lot.” His brows raised. “I’m grateful my husband is talented with his tongue. I’m grateful my husband keeps our marriage fresh.”
“I have to make something good of this situation.”
“You have plenty to be thankful for,” he snapped. “Other than my things. You should be grateful for me. I’m your white knight. I’m saving you from a shitty life. But you know that already. Don’t you? I’m grateful for my husband’s money. I’m grateful I have a house, a comfortable bed, and a husband with a giant cock who gives me everything I fucking need.”
My pulse pounded in my throat. “I didn’t write that.”
“Why the fuck didn’t you?”
A beat of tense silence