Page 73 of About Time

“The last one is for disobeying me when I give you an order.”

Before she can start to argue with me again, I give a sound smack to her right butt cheek, followed by her left. I repeat making sure to hit a different spot on her ass. Because my hands are so large and her ass isn’t, the entire surface is rosy afterward. For the last swat, I drop her head down and spread her legs apart.

I smack across her thighs and her pussy. “That’s for even thinking of letting another man touch this. I. Don’t. Share.”

Yes, I’m a fucking hypocrite. I’ll acknowledge that there’s always been an imbalance between us. There will probably always be, too. I hold the power in our dynamic because she gives it to me. Which in a way gives her ultimate control.

Spanking her revives my dick the rest of the way. “Hands and knees on the ground, now,” I order her.

With one hand on her shoulder and the other on her hip, I don’t hesitate to thrust deep inside of her. If I were more sane, or a more gentle man I’d give her some time to adjust to the intrusion. I know I’m not a small or even average sized man, and six years of celibacy has her unaccustomed to accepting the stretch of a cock in her tight pussy. But I don’t give her any time. Hattie doesn’t like sweet and gentle.

I’m grunting as I reacquaint my dick with the glory of Hattie’s tight, wet cunt. Words spill out of my mouth, and I can tell by the way her pussy flutters around my shaft that my dirty talk is turning her on.

“You’re still the perfect fucktoy, letting me use you however I want. You like being my whore, Doll?”

She doesn’t answer me, so I take my hand from her hip for a second and smack her ass.

“Yes,” she pants.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sir,” she corrects herself.

“Good slut. Now brace yourself it’s been too long, and I need to fuck you harder than I ever have.”

There’s no time between my warning and my first violent thrust. I’m fucking her like I hate her. Of course I love her, but there’s a part of me that hates how desperately I need her. I brace one hand against the couch, and the other hand on her hip I use to pull her back as I plunge forward.

Her thighs bounce off mine, and my balls slap against her pussy. The sounds of our skin smacking against each other fillsthe room. She’s so wet I feel her juices dripping down my sac. I’m getting too close, but she hasn’t come yet.

“Reach down and stroke your clit for me. I won’t stop until you come on my cock.”

This time she follows my orders and reaches between her legs to rub herself.

“Faster. Don’t you dare back off because it’s becoming too much. I want you to come so hard it fucking hurts.”

Her hand starts to work frantically between her legs as I jack her up and down my cock. One time tonight will not be enough, unless you actually can die from an orgasm. Death is the only thing that is going to stop me from fucking her all night long.

Hattie screams as her pussy clenches tight on my cock. Her entire body spasms with her orgasm. I am close enough to come, but I promised to make it hurt. Somehow I manage to pick up the pace a bit more. She’s grunting each time I bottom out. Only when she starts to go limp do I allow myself to come, filling her cunt with my seed.

With any luck she’s not on birth control and we can finally get back on track to where we are supposed to be.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Hattie Past- Age 32

When I wakeup alone in the morning, I’d swear it was all a dream except for the fact that my body aches deliciously.

I’d be lying if I said I’ve never thought about being with him again, but it was more of a fantasy I never expected to happen, than a real hope for the future. Standing on my deck, with a coffee cup warming my hands, I stare out aimlessly at the choppy Gulf. Dark clouds hang overhead, which feels ominous considering Charlie fucking Storm has rolled back into my life and blown it to pieces.

Here I am, surrounded by the scattered remains of my life here, and wondering how I begin to put the pieces together again. Last night it seemed like the most natural and rational thing to agree to return to Harriston. After all, I’d just fought with Clark, and he asked for his ring back. In that instant, I knew he saved me from making a huge mistake. I wasn’t even a little sad to have my engagement broken after only a few days, I was relieved.

Wren needs me now more than she even did back then. Yes, she has Griffin, but I remember how hard it was for me to bepregnant and not have my mom to talk to. I still had my sister, even if she didn’t know the reason I turned to her for comfort back then. Her arms were still open to me even if she didn’t know why I needed them, and I don’t think I’d have survived.

That still doesn’t mean I’m free to fall back into the arms of my personal cumulonimbus. Hurricane Charlie has done enough damage here, I don’t need to become a storm chaser. I would like to try and salvage my friendship with Clark. He’s been in my corner for over a decade. He deserves more than a weak-willed woman who only agreed to marry him out of a fear of ending up alone.

He wanted me to tell him that I had no feelings for Charlie, and I wanted to give him that reassurance, but those words refused to vocalize. I told him I could avoid Charlie, that he didn’t mean anything to me anymore. The moment I said that, I realized I lied. Sometimes a small lie can be the kindest thing you can do for someone you love, but I’d been telling too many lies, and most of them were to myself.

I’ve proved that it took thousands of miles for me to stay away from Charlie because I’ve never fallen out of love with him. The raw truth is that there isn’t a future I can imagine where I don’t love him. I’ve tried, and at a certain point, you just have to admit defeat and accept a basic fact about yourself. I am five-foot-seven, I have green eyes, blonde hair, and I love Charlie Storm. It’s part of the fabric of who I am, and something I’ll never be able to change.

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