Page 102 of The Retreat

I whimper into my pillow, trying to stay loose and easy for him, but the longer it goes on, the more my body wakes up. My dick is hard and wants attention, rubbing against the soft sheets is only getting me so far.

“Please, Owen.” I reach under me and palm my cock, but I don’t have enough room to really jack off.

“Your greedy little dick wants to come again?” He chuckles, and I bite my lip to hold in the sounds. “Last time was about you. This is about me.” His thrust is harder, almost brutal, and I cry out. “I’m going to use your slutty hole until I’m satisfied, not you.”

I let a sob escape, and Owen digs his fingers into the muscles of my ass, lifting my cheek so he can get just a little bit deeper. His pace picks up, no longer slow and sweet but rough and hard. He’s fucking into me like he hates me, and a part of me is afraid he does, but the other part doesn’t care as long as he touches me. I need him to touch me.

“Don’t stop–” I moan, cutting myself off before my secrets are laid bare before him. He doesn’t need any more ammunition to destroy me. He’s doing just fine on his own.

“You’re such a whore, Colin.” Owen leans over me to push my hands into the mattress and bite at my back and shoulders, marking me as his. These marks mean so much more to me than the wedding band.

“Only for you, husband. I’m your whore.”

I ache to come, to touch myself, to ease the pressure.

“Why can’t I get you out of my head? Thoughts of fucking you invade me constantly.”

He’s angry now, at himself and at me. He’s making my body take the brute force of it, but I love it. I love the roughness, the bite of pain that lances through my pleasure. It makes me throb and feel alive. Love is pain, at least that’s what life has taught me.

“Because you want me and you hate that anyone else has ever fucked me.” I can’t stop myself from picking at him. Owen is a possessive bastard, and I like getting a reaction from him. Knowing he’s not going to let me come just encourages me to run my mouth, to get under his skin.

He freezes above me, then in a flash he’s flipped me over onto my back and shoving his way back inside of me. I arch against him, the new angle rubbing against my prostate, and it won’t take long for me to come untouched.

“Open your fucking mouth,” Owen demands with his fingers digging into my cheeks.

I do, sticking my tongue out for good measure. He spits in my mouth, then shoves two fingers in deep enough to gag me. Where the fuck did he learn that?

He drops down onto me, giving me his weight and putting his mouth next to my ear. “Do you like being treated like a whore, princess?”

“I like being fucked,” I say around his fingers.

Owen lifts up onto his hand and slams into me, brutal and unrestrained. Taking everything my body will give and demanding more. I will be sore as fuck when he’s done, but I don’t care. It’s a part of him no one else sees. Maybe now he’ll give into this need he has for me more often. Even if he hates me for it.

His pupils are blown with lust and fury, deep pits of hatred and frustration. I revel in it. Do I wish he would love me? Sure, but that’s not in the cards for me. This I can work with. I can survive here.

“Your holes are mine, to be used when I say, by me. If I ever find out you’ve let someone else touch you, I’ll make sure they disappear.” He’s half crazed and letting his possessiveness come out. He only shows it when I’ve pushed him too far.

It has nothing to do with me though, not really. If I leave or die, his mother will force him to marry someone else. I’m the lesser of two evils. But I’ll accept it. I’ll enjoy it even. Pushing the Godfrey boys to get a reaction has been my favorite pastime for years.

“I hate how much I want you,” Owen growls and sits up onto his knees, changing the angle to perfectly drag his gorgeous cock right where I need it.

“Yes, fuck me,” I beg as my body tightens and my orgasm is forced from me on a yell.

Cum lands up my stomach and chest, hits my chin, and Owen groans low in his throat, shivering and jerking his release into me. I sag onto the bed, sweaty and used and boneless.

Owen pants for a second, his head dropped forward before he lifts it and pins me with a stare. “Tomorrow I have to train. You’ll leave me alone to do so.”

I give him a satisfied smile. “Yes, husband.”

THIRTY-FOUR

Owen

Colin and I have been a little cold over the last few days, and I don’t know what to do about it, so I’ve spent more time training than with him. We are fucking more than is probably good, but there is no stopping that. I can’t say no to him. But it’s getting to the point even our followers are starting to notice. So when he bursts into the kitchen, it takes me by surprise.

“What’s wrong?”

“Cassie is gone!” Colin looks like he’s about to break.

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