Page 89 of Unleashed

I replace my finger with my hard-on, and it burrows into her pussy hair as I back her into the end of her bed.

Simone looks down at her bedspread and then back up at me. The outside light makes her eyes and cheeks glow, but the shadows darken her lips. Damn, I miss them on me. While her bare pussy moves against my stiff fly, Simone’s whisper tickles my chin. “I’m not screwing you.”

I lean to her ear, panting into it before replying, “Bullshit, you’re not. I didn’t collect in Durham. This time, I will.”

She gasps, and her tit swells in my hand as her nipple hardens more under my fingers. She shakes her head but moans toward the ceiling. I gave her an out, and she didn’t take it. I’m plowing ahead. “Fuck off.”

When I pin her legs to the end of her bed, I let go of her ass and tit to unbuckle my pants and unzip my fly fast. “I plan to.”

I wait for the terror to take me down after what Tansy did in my car, but I feel none of that. A white-hot need for sex with Simone surges through me. I couldn’t do this with any other woman. I doubt that’ll ever change, even though it has to.

From here, it sounds like her dad is building a panic room across the hall. He should. For his benefit, I say, “Fucking hell, bend over.”

Simone shoves my arm, but accidentally brushes my crotch three times. Holy shit. I’m going to finish before I start.

Panting louder and with a breathy moan that echoes in the room, Simone grips my dick through my underwear, and I almost fall to my knees. Against my ear, she seethes, “My date will be here soon.”

I lean into her until she loses her balance and falls onto the bed. Standing in front of her, I say, “Then you’d better blow me now, Garrison.” I push down my jeans and underwear and grab the back of her head, but this time, she pushes back for real.

“Not with her cunt on you,” she snaps. Simone’s frown is indignant in the light of the nearby streetlamp.

Instead of telling her the truth, I say, “I used a raincoat. Jesus.” I reach down to tease one of her nipples, and she swats my hand away like a pesky mosquito but with a hint of veiled amusement.

Pulling off my pants and underwear, my dick bounces, and Simone’s eyes go wide for the win.

I bend and get into her face, making her lean further back from me. She warns, “I’ll scream.” She props her arms behind her but pushes her tits toward my face.

“I don’t like to brag.” My gloating smirk may make me a prick, but whatever.

“No. Get away from me.” But with one hand, she grabs onto my waist, digging her nails into my skin, as she pulls and pushes me, undecided but caving.

Looking toward the door, I groan, “Oh, baby. You feel so good.”

Simone kicks her legs at my hips, but her knees tug me toward her. Tears glaze her eyes again. She whispers, “I hate you.”

My eyes burn, and I blink the sting away, whispering, “Maybe I hate you more.”

I bend closer, unsure what to do to her, but Simone scoots backward up the bed. I crawl onto the bed, trapping her beneath me and caging her with my arms and legs. Simone’s gold dress bunches at her waist but opens at her tits. She glares up at me, yet her hips bounce like she’s restless and not attempting to escape.

When she moves, her tits jiggle, and my hot breath teases her taut nipples, begging for me to touch them. Simone can’t hide her fast breaths or the scent of her sweet, wet pussy.

Simone glances at the door to the hallway and then tries pushing my chest again. “We’re not doing it. Get out.”

I shift my arms so they push Simone’s arms away, and I lean closer to her face. “You’ve teased me with your new manwhores and even grinding on Sylvie—which should’ve been hot but was so not. But nothing compares to the married sex you had with your ex-husband.” I drag my hard-on over her stomach. Simone grabs onto my open shirt, pulling with an almost humorous effort to move me further or closer. Though her mouth doesn’t want me, the rest of her body sure the hell does.

“No. Our marriage was invalid, so you’re not my ex.” Her shaky whisper tumbles past her trembling bottom lip.

“Invalid because of you!” I whisper, but my anger makes it almost impossible to stay quiet.

“You’re such an asshole.”

“I’m the asshole? Hadley suspects something because of you. Yeah. A mistake. I doubt it. That should be unforgivable.”

Simone tilts her head as she looks up at me. She licks her lips, and as if she’s a siren’s call, I want to taste her lips and tongue. I want her to lick and kiss every inch of my body.

She nods with a somber expression. “You fantasize about fucking Hadley, don’t you?” No. I fantasize about you nonstop.

Hovering over Simone, I freeze. Not so much from shock and shame, but because she’s provoking me with a sore subject that we’ve already reheated, rehashed, and rebutted. She lost the argument and agreed to fucking drop it. Does Simone know new shit?

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