Page 35
Story: Forsaken Vows
It was irrational, but I was pissed she was even dressed like this around him. That ass belonged to me, not him. She shouldn’t be in his house like this—not after what we did. Not after the way she moaned for me.
She jumped when she turned around and her eyes landed on me, wide as hell.
“What are you doing here?” she sounded panicked.
That made me smile, because the way I was feeling—she should be scared.
“You really wasn’t gon’ call me?” I asked, low and tight.
“I didn’t think I should.”
I stepped closer, close enough for her to feel the heat rollin’ off me.
“You let me bust inside you, but you didn’t think you should call?”
She frowned, stepping back. “You didn’t call me.”
“I didn’t even realize I didn’t have your number ‘til it was too late,” I said. “I kept checking my shit like a fool.”
I had no business being there. I had no reason to still be this mad—but I was. All I knew was, I needed her. I needed her to feel me. To remember what we were.
She opened her mouth to explain, something about Mark’s parents or some weak-ass excuse. I didn’t wanna hear it.
I grabbed her by the hips and turned her around, cutting her off, bending her over the kitchen island. I didn’t rush. I slid my handup that skirt slow until my fingers met lace.
“What are you doing?” she whined. I could feel her heartbeat racing through her back. She was scared—but not enough to move. Not enough to stop me.
I attempted to pull her panties down. She reached behind her, grabbing my hand.
“Stop, Sam. He’s here.”
“Step out of them,” I said, ignoring the way her grip tightened.
“N-n-nooo, baby,” she stuttered.
“I don’t care if he is or not. Now take ’em off. You want me to rip them?”
“Yes—no—baby, please.”
I didn’t have time to be gentle. Not tonight.
She was pissing me off being indecisive, so I ripped them and stuffed them in my pocket.
I slid my fingers between her pussy lips and played with her clit slow. “Tell me you missed me,” I said, voice sharp, “then swear you won’t go another day without calling or texting me.”
She moaned. Her hips trembled.
“You missed me?” I said, sliding two fingers inside her. “Say it.”
She didn’t answer—but that pussy did.
It opened up for me like it remembered how good I could make her feel. Her legs damn near gave out when I slid two fingers inside of her. She caught herself on the marble, breathing hard. I splayed my free hand on her back, pressing her down. Her ass lifted.
I pushed my dick into her. She was already soaking wet. Her thighs were warm, sticky, hungry. I started stroking her slow. Deep. Pushing her shirt up, I watched her back muscles flex every time I hit her spot. I wished I had more time.
“You don’t call me, then let me fuck you raw in your husband’shouse?” I asked, gripping her hip. “You fucking disrespectful.” I taunted.
“I shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered.
She jumped when she turned around and her eyes landed on me, wide as hell.
“What are you doing here?” she sounded panicked.
That made me smile, because the way I was feeling—she should be scared.
“You really wasn’t gon’ call me?” I asked, low and tight.
“I didn’t think I should.”
I stepped closer, close enough for her to feel the heat rollin’ off me.
“You let me bust inside you, but you didn’t think you should call?”
She frowned, stepping back. “You didn’t call me.”
“I didn’t even realize I didn’t have your number ‘til it was too late,” I said. “I kept checking my shit like a fool.”
I had no business being there. I had no reason to still be this mad—but I was. All I knew was, I needed her. I needed her to feel me. To remember what we were.
She opened her mouth to explain, something about Mark’s parents or some weak-ass excuse. I didn’t wanna hear it.
I grabbed her by the hips and turned her around, cutting her off, bending her over the kitchen island. I didn’t rush. I slid my handup that skirt slow until my fingers met lace.
“What are you doing?” she whined. I could feel her heartbeat racing through her back. She was scared—but not enough to move. Not enough to stop me.
I attempted to pull her panties down. She reached behind her, grabbing my hand.
“Stop, Sam. He’s here.”
“Step out of them,” I said, ignoring the way her grip tightened.
“N-n-nooo, baby,” she stuttered.
“I don’t care if he is or not. Now take ’em off. You want me to rip them?”
“Yes—no—baby, please.”
I didn’t have time to be gentle. Not tonight.
She was pissing me off being indecisive, so I ripped them and stuffed them in my pocket.
I slid my fingers between her pussy lips and played with her clit slow. “Tell me you missed me,” I said, voice sharp, “then swear you won’t go another day without calling or texting me.”
She moaned. Her hips trembled.
“You missed me?” I said, sliding two fingers inside her. “Say it.”
She didn’t answer—but that pussy did.
It opened up for me like it remembered how good I could make her feel. Her legs damn near gave out when I slid two fingers inside of her. She caught herself on the marble, breathing hard. I splayed my free hand on her back, pressing her down. Her ass lifted.
I pushed my dick into her. She was already soaking wet. Her thighs were warm, sticky, hungry. I started stroking her slow. Deep. Pushing her shirt up, I watched her back muscles flex every time I hit her spot. I wished I had more time.
“You don’t call me, then let me fuck you raw in your husband’shouse?” I asked, gripping her hip. “You fucking disrespectful.” I taunted.
“I shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered.
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