Chapter 70

“Touch yourself, wife.”

She did as she moaned.

Elvie was a lioness at work and a lamb in bed, the perfect combination for a predator like Zander. He wanted to fight her when they were in the office and fuck her when they were anywhere else. But it was the in-between part that worried him. Because he wanted to monopolise every second of her life, even when they weren’t doing either.

“Oh, God,” she moaned.

“Zander,” he corrected. “Call me by my name. Tell me what you want me to do.”

“I want you to screw me.” She whimpered into her own shoulder, squeezing her eyes shut, her orgasm brewing, making her legs shake. He wished he wasn’t such a bastard in this moment.

“Stop.” But he was.

“W-what?” she stuttered, still masturbating with the sprayer head.

Zander was so hard now that he could barely think clearly. All his blood had rushed to his shaft, and if someone had asked him for his own name, he’d have had trouble answering.

“Stop right now.” A raspy growl slithered between his lips.

Elvie opened her eyes, confused, but slowly removed the sprayer head from her fold.

“Turn it off and get to my bedroom. Don’t dry yourself off.” He turned around and walked away.

He perched on the edge of my bed, pushing his sleeves up and tapping his thigh. She appeared at his door seconds later, dripping water all over his carpeted floor, her hair wet and her eyes wide as she scanned his black and grey-accented bedroom and gold silk comforter.

“In my lap now, wifey.” Zander slapped his hard thigh. She began to walk over to him, but he shook his head gravely before she got too far.

“Crawl.”

“What?” She stopped, hesitated, and flashed him a feral look he’d never seen on her face before. It was somehow both rebellious and submissive. She knew she should say no, but her body was more than ready to comply.

“It will mean nothing outside this bedroom. I’m still your equal, Zander.”

“I never said you weren’t.”

“I want to make sure you don’t think that either. Just because I like being bossed around in bed—”

“By me,” he said, stopping her. “You like to be bossed around by me. Not by just any fucker on the street. On your knees, Elvie.”

“Fuck you!”

“I will," he smirked.

And there it was, the most beautiful sight known to man: a lethally attractive, insanely intelligent woman begging to be fucked. Elvie lowered herself, advancing towards him on her knees, her tits dangling between her arms. She stopped, her face level with his shaft. He patted his thigh again.

“Up. With your mouth wrapped around my rod and your ass high in the air.”

He lowered his jeans and briefs and watched as her lips wrapped around his veiny cock, barely taking his girth. He slapped her bare ass without warning. It was playful, but it still did the trick. A few drops of cum escaped just from the intense pleasure of having her there, catering to his every whim, wanting everything he gave her, including the painful shit he would never share with anyone else, much less a soon-to-be ex-wife again or whatever. He thought to himself as pleasure enveloped his mind.

“Hmmph,” she whimpered quietly, her mouth full of his erection.

Just to make sure she liked it, he slid his fingers into her pussy and found it dripping all over her inner thighs.

Yes. Pussy-slapping and Elvie were a match made in his kinky brain’s heaven.

“When I tell you to get rid of your bra before you get here, you get rid of your bra.”

The next slap wasn’t so playful anymore, but still nowhere near the hardcore shit. She was just getting used to moving her lips along his shaft and clutching the base. She moaned into his shaft, and again Zander sneaked his hand down and borrowed some of the wetness dripping along her leg and over the golden comforter, rubbing it over her ass cheek to soothe the pain away.

“And this is for uttering the word no during foreplay. What else? I’m sure we can find reasons to punish you if we try.”

Elvie unlatched her mouth from his rod and looked up, grinning at him with her mouth so swollen and red that he couldn’t help but sneak in a dirty kiss.

“One day, when you made Bella cry, I hid your laptop in the conference room.”

That had been her? He’d looked for that thing for three hours. His open palm landed on her cheek again. She whimpered, her knees quivering with lust, and the smell of sex was so heavy in the air that they both got drunk on it.

She looked back up. He stole another kiss, his rod throbbing between her tits.

“Sometimes when I get off by myself, I think about Ryan from IT.”

Zander had no idea who Ryan from IT was; he just knew he was newly unemployed. He slapped her back again, and this time he bit her earlobe—not gently—for good measure.

“Give me his full name,” he growled.

She laughed, throwing her head back. “There’s no Ryan in IT. I mean, maybe there is. But I don’t know him.”

“Tell me more.” He began to gather the wetness in her pussy and play with it. This time, he added some extra pressure and slid his index finger in and out every once in a while, keeping her engaged the whole time.

“I did give a guy my number the other day. At a diner, when I went to get coffee for Gerald and Almera.”

His jaw twitched, and he slapped her ass again. “Not funny.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be. He asked me if I was married. I said no.”

“Damn it, wife.” Another friendly slap.

Zander knew there was nothing he could do about that information, not unless he was willing to make some major changes in his life. He slipped two fingers into her, and she tensed around them. He could already feel how perfect she’d be once his fat shaft was buried deep inside her.

“You’re wasting your time. No one can beat this, and you know it.”

“I’m willing to try,” she moaned, pushing herself towards his hand and begging for more. More fingers. More pressure. More of them.

Zander stood up and let her fall on his bed, headfirst. He slapped the side of her back and pushed his knee between her hamstrings, signalling for her to lift it up in the air. She complied, biting his sheets, her eyes squeezed shut. He pushed his shaft between her cheeks and looped her long, wavy locks around his fist, pulling her head up so he could whisper in her ear, “You’re going to change your number when we’re done here.”

She laughed erotically, her neck extended, long, and delicate. Zander let go of her hair to squeeze it just a little, fingering her back again to make sure it was lubricated enough with her juices.

“I think I’m going to give him a chance, actually. He seems like a nice guy. Available, too.”

Zander thrust into her all at once, knowing it was wrong. Knowing it was a punishment, not a reward—a mixture of pleasure, agony, and guilt—he made his abs tighten against the mound of her back. She was His. With a capital H. His alone.

No one was allowed to see her like that—vulnerable and so fucking hot!

It wasn’t a request, a plea, or a hope, but a simple fact. Her eyes confirmed it, her body sang it, and if she thought he was in the business of sharing, she obviously needed a sore reminder that he wasn’t.

Elvie lurched forward from his thrust, standing on all fours, and purred as he pounded into her tight haven, so impossibly snug that he could feel it milking the orgasm out of him with a vise-like grip. He slipped his hand down her stomach to find her swollen clit. She quivered under his arm.

“Shit!” He bit the tip of her ear. “Fuck, Elvie, fuck! You are mine. Mine!”

She groaned, her back meeting his hip bones again and again, challenging him to thrust for thrust, push for push, and touch for touch. Just another day in the newsroom. Him pushing. Her pulling. Both of them were chasing the feeling only the other person could give.

Fuck the guy who’d gotten her phone number. Fuck him and all the other men in Scotland.

“I need to quit you,” she mumbled to herself.

I need to own you. He thought to himself, All of you!

Her body convulsed under him, cresting and tipping deeper into oblivion with every plunge, and he couldn’t help it; he had to do it. He bit the back of her neck like an animal—a savage, a delinquent—and plastered a palm over her throat, bringing her up so they were both standing on their knees as he shot his load inside her. She let out a scream that echoed inside his mostly empty bedroom as they both climaxed.

“Ohhhh Zander!”

A few seconds later, she collapsed on his bed, spineless and thoroughly fucked. He fell next to her, facing the opposite wall. His default strategy was to pussy-block pillow talk and avoid eye contact. It wasn’t personal. He’d done that to Kristal, too, back when they were together. But this, with Elvie. It was different. It was magical. More primal. Raw! Pure!

He planked, just turning around to look at her face, when the words left her mouth.

“I should go. Thea must be waiting for me.”

“I’ll call the driver.” His ego was fucking him harder than he’d fucked her, and that said a lot about its stamina.

“It’s okay. I…”

“I’ll drive you.” He changed his mind.

She hated me spending money on her, but giving her a ride didn’t cost shit. Of course, it did require him to move his car from the garage for the first time in a fucking thousand years, or whatever.

Elvie nodded. “Are you sure? I can get myself a cab,” her face solemn. Zander had never really entertained the idea of having a woman stay over. The one and only time he’d done some actual sleeping with a woman in the past year was, oddly, with Elvie at the hotel suite. That time was different because he knew she didn’t want to go back to wherever she was supposed to be and didn’t take it personally.

Besides, they’d hardly cuddled and whispered sweet nothings in each other’s ears. He’d just crashed, and by the time he woke up with a raging hard-on and a mission in mind to fuck her into a coma, she was already gone.

“You can stay over.” He ignored her jab. “The daily trip to the mansion is bullshit. I can give you the spare key.”

“You know I can't do that. Thea needs me.”

“I know.”

“It's your time to babysit, tomorrow evening, by the way.”

“I know that too. I'll be there, but you can stay over for tonight.”

He thought, am I fucking high? What was in that pasta? I only had one shot. Still, I couldn’t find it in myself to take any of those words back.

Elvie tucked her hair behind her ears and ran her pearly whites over her lower lip. She seemed to consider it.

It was a relief not to get shut down immediately, since the suggestion in itself was ludicrous.

“That’s not a good idea.” She paused, flipping on her cellphone and checking the time. It was well after eleven. “I will take that ride back home, though, if it’s still on the table.”

“It is.”

“Let me get my dress and wash my face.” She hopped out of bed, all business, like they were back at work. He watched her perky white ass jiggling in my hallway.

Zander closed his eyes. A gust of air with the scent of her shampoo and body lotion caressed his nose, and he took a deep, greedy breath.

Not good. Not good. Not good.

Her phone was between the sheets, beeping with new text messages.

Bella: Thanks for helping me with the filing today! Loveya!!

Gerald: If I were a Victoria’s Secret model, which one would I be?

Almera: I'm going to get my nipple pierced this weekend. Wish me luck. Did that cute guy call you yet?

He grabbed it, took out the SIM, and split it in half before inserting it back into her phone and smashing the whole thing against the floor.

If that guy wanted Elvie, he’d have to look for her the old-fashioned way, among the many residents of the city.

Break a leg, buddy.