Page 144 of Unleashed

Chapter 22

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I’VE ALWAYS KNOWN THAT sparring with Simone turns me on like a motherfucker, and it’s only getting more intense. Not that it matters since we’re totally wrong for each other.

I fuck her with everything in me, like I’m trying to get off in two seconds or conveying a message to her. What message? I have no damn clue, but tonight, I learned Simone thinks she had fallen in love with me. That’s bullshit, since she ended our marriage without a second thought. There’s no coming back for me from that lack of trust or that amount of pain. I won’t give her my heart again, no matter how fucking hard it beats or bleeds for her.

Yeah, and I know it’s bullshit that I can fuck Simone without a rubber after she inseminated herself with my baby batter, but let’s be honest. Simone does stupid shit. She’s related to Finn Wilder, so it’s in her goddamn DNA. I rest my case. Still, she’s smart enough not to put us in that situation again. But if she wasn’t, that’s my own fucking fault for thinking with the wrong head. It’s an ugly, idiotic cycle.

My dick has never felt as good as it does when it’s inside Simone. Maybe Hadley would feel similar, but she’s hesitant about everything. Not Simone. She knows what the hell she wants. I wish she had wanted me with that kind of fire.

I grab onto her hip and thrust hard enough that I lift her somewhat. Her fingers claw my neck, and it fuels me more. I watch her tits bounce and grab one as I slam into her insatiable pussy, always starving. I guess I am too. But I don’t want to know about the other dicks she’s fucking along with mine. Thinking about it makes me want to swing my baseball bat and not hit a softball. Simone isn’t mine, but that won’t stop me from expressing my lingering fury over my wounded ego.

I flick Simone’s nipple back and forth before I finger her clit. Simone moves her hand from my neck and grabs my hand to guide my fingers to where she wants them. Her pussy is slippery as her cunt shrinks around me, and it takes more effort to fuck. I push the heel of my hand against her clit and rub my fingers into her wet lips. She moans and grabs her tit.

The consuming need for something more crushes me, and I pull out. Simone whimpers, “Don’t stop, swizzle—Greg.” She gasps through her teeth, and I freeze for two seconds as agonizing buried feelings bubble up in my chest. No way. I can’t let Simone drag me back into her web more than I’ve stupidly allowed. I need to focus.

I urge her up and onto her knees, and she does it without argument. She tosses the pillow aside, spreads her legs, and juts her ass into the air. I grip the back of her neck and push her downward until she lies her face against the mattress. I waste no time in mounting her from behind, sliding my raring dick back inside her gaping pussy.

Her moans start small, but then as our fucking intensifies, Simone wails before she sprays a warm waterfall over my dick.

I pant as my balls tighten and my shaft buzzes. “Shit. I’m about to lose it.”

“Cream my pussy. Drip from me,” Simone pleads, breathless.

“Fuck, yeah,” I growl, unleashing my orgasm into her with violent jerks. Simone comes again, and her pussy clamps me in jagged waves, sucking me deeper. I push into her orgasm and shudder with the last of my load.

I pull out of her and fall back. Simone sits up and hangs her head, sighing toward the mattress. She then gets out of bed and strips off the sheets and mattress pad. I move off the bed to help her. We don’t talk or look at each other.

What the fuck are we doing?

DEAR GREGSTER,

Jesus fucking Christ. You know, I’m still sitting here, waiting for death, but holding it at bay because my dumbass baby brother can’t run his life for shit. It feels like I’m writing the same, tired thing with every diary entry. I’ve given up hope that I’ll get to praise you for doing something right. Stop pissing around with the wrong woman. You’re letting the right one get away. Do I need to hire a marching band to spell it out for you on a football field? Cousin Thelma was smarter than this, including after that accident with the hay bailer, and only had three-quarters of her brain left to use.

The love of your life is right in front of you. I know she is, and I’m even alive, writing this. I have a feeling you already know her, but you insist on being a dense fucker and chasing the wrong women.

Remember my first home health nurse, Romy? She was the pretty one with the long hair and nice rack. She used to bring us lollipops and ice cream and read us stories. She used to call me sweetness, and you, cutie? Remember her? Good. She thought you were a goddamn idiot, too.

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