Page 7 of Southpaw Slots

“Vix…you can’t be here.” He side-steps to enter the shop office, but I don’t let him shut me out. Following closely behind, I slip inside and lock the door before he can slam it in my face. Continuing to the lone desk near the back, he bends over it with his head hung low.

“You were the one who told me, Wyatt.Youtold me that it didn’t matter who married who. That it’s all just a piece of paper. That it meansnothing. That I’ll always belong to you, no matter what. That marriage is just ashamand you wanted to show me a world where the boundaries between us didn’t exist. Remember all that? Or was that all just some cute lines to try to take my virginity?”

Spinning around, he comes at me with fury in his footsteps, his heavy boots hitting the concrete floor with loud thuds. He doesn’t stop until his hand is around my neck and he presses my body up against the wall. My breath chokes out as he sneers at me, his deep-set green eyes narrowing into tiny caverns. “You’re a rotten brat sometimes, you know that, Vix? I said those things not knowing you were going to actually marry one of those rich pricks. I was saying it so you would be withme. That we could break the rules of this godforsaken city and be together. And now…you’re Mrs. Asa Donovan.”

In strained tones, my voice sputters out, “I don’t want to be. I love you.”

With molten lava flaming his countenance, he tightens his grip on me until large black spots cover my vision. “Well, Ihateyou.”

Flashing my lashes once before I slip into the darkness, I manage to whisper, “Show me.”

A feral growl erupts from his large, sculpted chest as he drops the hand around my throat to scoop me into his arms, the air pulling back into my lungs with a frenzy, causing all lights and sounds to suddenly make me feel alive. And hyper-aware of every sensation. Slinging my body onto the desk, he rips off his T-shirt and tosses it aside before quickly undoing my shorts and tugging them down along with my thong.

The sight of his muscular, thoroughly inked body wearing nothing but his black pants and boots makes me instantly soaking wet, clit throbbing with need. Bending down, he lowers his shaved head to my pussy before ravishing it like he’s eating a rind of watermelon. Teeth and tongue and mouth all envelop my hot core with a hunger I’ve never seen from him, and a wild scream rips out of my chest as I arch my back until I’m only on my tailbone and the tip of my head.

“Wy-wy-wyatt!” It hurts. And feels amazing. My body isn’t sure which to focus on. Part of me tries to scramble away, but his thick arm grasps my waist, holding me down for him to continue to eat. Bite. Suck. Lick. Soft strolls of his tongue against me make me sink onto the hard desk and squeeze the ticklish hairs on the sides of his head between my thighs. Angry gnaws at my flesh have me pushing away with my hands, but he pulls me closer and then smacks my outer thigh.

Just as I feel myself rising up to an orgasm, wanting his finger inside me like he usually does, he stops, standsand stares down at me, a whimper escaping from my lips with an ache unfulfilled.

“Brats get their pussies tortured like this, vix. And that’s what you are. You’re a fucking brat. You need another lesson. Flip over.” When my thighs quake and I lie still with uncertainty, he grips me and twists my body, so I land against the laminate surface with a thud. The rattle of his belt buckle almost makes me finish, but when I try to see his gorgeously pierced cock, he grips my hair and turns my face down. “Nope. You don’t get to look. Not anymore.”

With a flick, his leather belt meets the air, and I know what’s coming next. A long pause interrupts the flow of his action until I almost turn back to look again, but remember what he told me. “Vix, what do you say if you need to?”

“Avocado.” But before the word is out of my mouth, my palms grip the edge of the desk as he swats my ass with his belt. Hard. A loud cry hangs in the air as I try to get some oxygen into my chest as he spanks me again.

“Do you need more?”

Sniffling my tears back, I let him know what I need. “Yes.” I so do. With each sting against my skin, my worried thoughts, my selfish thoughts, my thoughts of individuality and of fear all evaporate until there’s just physical pain and pleasure.

Another harsh blow to my other ass cheek makes my hips jolt against the desk. Four more and my skin ison fire, flaming from the inside, but before I can say a word, Wyatt takes two large fingers and smears my soaked wetness from my pussy to my back hole.

I’ve never allowed a man to take my virginity, holding on to it like a diamond, knowing it would be worth something someday. But Wyatt was the first to fuck me back there. Repeatedly spreading the evidence of my arousal all over in messy waves, he kneels and sticks his tongue inside my asshole until I open my mouth to gasp then moan. Between his firm, wet mouth and his hard, coated digit, I almost explode, but he stops and straightens until I feel his crown press against me.

“Brats get it in their ass, ain’t that right, vix?”

Nodding, I stretch back against him, so he’ll enter inside me and satisfy my unmet need. Instead, more heat erupts across my backside as he palms my cheek with a smack. “Nuh-uh, vixen. You don’t get to have my dick unless I say so. And I will control the speed if I choose to give it to you.” Wyatt’s never acted like this before. He’s been cross with me, sure, but never this harsh.

I like it.

Usually, things are passionate and quick in order to hide from my brother and his friends. But I know over the last few months, being secretive has bothered him more and more. Not me, though. I’ve enjoyed our clandestine activities. Getting away with something we shouldn’t.

Holding still, my body strains against the head of his cock when it thrusts inside me, the opening agonizing with pain until I feel him dribbling spit over my stretched hole. Rubbing it in with a finger, the first of his piercings pushes past the barrier with ease, then the second with a pop, then the third, the fourth. By the fifth and sixth row, I’m panting, fingers grasping the hard edge, so I don’t move.

Then he fucks me.

Hips shoving hard into me, the head of his thick dick pokes into that wall between my pussy and ass to some spot that makes my legs twitch and my brain go fuzzier than the champagne. He grips my pelvis with his greasy hands as he pummels me, my eyes squeezing shut so hard tears trail down my cheeks. I’m sure my mascara is ruined.

“Now, brat. You’re gonna take my cum in your ass this time.”

A quick gasp leaves my lips parted. “Wha-what? Wyatt?” I’ve never said he could come inside. He always coats my skin somewhere, usually my butt cheeks.

“Yep. Brats get it like this.” Scrambling up on the desk, my thigh lifts, but he grips me so I’m kneeling on the top while he stays inside my back hole. Through gritted teeth, he groans into my ear as his cock rampages into me. “I fuckinghatethat I love you.” My long nails dig into his firm forearms, as my orgasm rises to the surface, almost taking me away to ecstasy, butbefore it can, Wyatt spurts his full hot load inside me, then slides out. All of his ejaculate falls down my inner thigh as I try to figure out what just happened.

“You don’t get to come, Mrs. Donovan. Your husband can do that for you.”

Pulling up his jeans, I turn just to see him dress hurriedly, his sullen demeanor returning in full force. I’m grasping at words to get him to forgive me, to stay with me. To want me again like he did, but all I can come up with is, “Wyatt…please don’t shut me out. I love you.”

“Don’t come back here, Arianna.” As he tugs his shirt back over his short brown hair, he finally looks at me with tear-filled eyes. “You broke my fucking heart.”

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