Page 27 of Almost Rotten

Fuck.

What am I doing?

Shuddering, I close my eyes, horrified by my body’s betrayal.

“You were always supposed to be mine,” he murmurs into the crook of my neck.

He hooks a finger over the collar of my shirt and drags it down, fixating on the tops of my breasts when they come into view.

My heart pounds and my chest heaves as I fight like hell to keep my wits about me.

“But you let another man have you first. Now I have to catch up. Are you ready to play, petit diable?”

Chapter twelve

Sawyer

My clit throbs every time Tytus presses his length into me.

I’m wearing jeans, but with the intensity of my body’s reaction to every shift of his hips and prod of his erect cock, I might as well be naked.

“Look at you,” he goads. “Writhing on your husband’s lap like a good little wife.”

My heart thuds to a stop, my limbs quivering with anticipation.

But between one breath and the next, that anticipation turns into frustration. I’m so over this game of hot and cold we’re playing.

I plant my palms on his chest and shove. “Stop calling me your wife. We arenotmarried, and you fucking know it.”

The smirk he gives me makes me want to strangle him. “But we should be. And now that the idea is out there, I don’t think I can go back to thinking of you any other way. This is just the beginning.” His hands land on my thighs again, squeezing. “This little lie I spun up? It wasn’t just for the dean. Soon, everyone will know that you belong to me.”

Jaw clenched, I shove him harder.

He thrusts up in response.

Another damn moan clamors its way up my chest, but I fight against it, internally cursing the warmth that’s pooled in my low belly and is dampening my underwear.

“My wife,” he repeats, his dark irises glinting. “I really fucking like the sound of that.”

“Don’t get used to it,” I snap back.

In response, he drags his length between my legs with enough force to make me gasp.

The dark amusement in his expression only fuels my fury.

How can I be so turned on and yet so fucking disgusted with myself at the same time?

He’s throwing me for a fucking loop. Heneveracts this way with me. I hate it. This is the face he puts on for the rest of the world: the aloof, unfeeling, brutal hockey player.

This isn’t my Ty.

Yet when he snaps his hips up again, this time grinding against my sweet spot, I pathetically cast aside his cruelty.

Right there.

Just like that.

My hips roll, seeking more.