Page 88 of The Trust We Broke
Grudge shrugs, but he has a playful smile on his lips. “Was I the biggest?”
I slide over his thighs so I can ride him. “Definitely.”
He looks between us and lines his cock up with my entrance. “Thickest?”
“So thick, you’ve always been the only one I could feel for days after.”
His cockhead breaches me, his thumb flicking my clit, and my body jolts. “Lasted longest?”
I huff a laugh at that. “My ex could barely keep it up long enough to get me off.”
Grudge grins. “So, he was a one and done?”
I cup his cheeks. “You know your whole coming twice in minutes thing is rare. You were the only one who could cover me in cum and keep going.”
He closes his eyes and lays his head back against the headrest. “You are the only woman who ever liked that.”
“What if I told you that, sometimes, I wouldn’t shower? I’d just keep your cum on me for hours.”
I squeal when he wraps his arms tight around me and nudges his cock past any resistance, to slide deep inside me on one fast thrust. “Can’t be talking about wearing my cum like such a good slut if you don’t want me to fuck you hard. Gonna imagine I’m not wearing a condom and pretend it’s filling you up.”
I gasp at his words, and the feel of him splitting me wide. “Grudge,” I say.
And he cups my cheek, his smile a mile wide. “Been loving hearing my road name on your lips, Bug.”
I drop my head into the crook of his shoulder and begin to ride.
A part of me is very aware this should be quick. Less chance of us being seen by an unsuspecting passerby.
But I find I want to take my time and remember every moment of it. This is the first time we’ve done this where our future feels more resolved. I’m moving back home. I’m going toset up my own firm. And I’m going to pray my ex-husband falls back in love with me, with who I am, now.
“You feel every inch of this?” he asks me, his gruff voice penetrating through my thoughts.
“Every single inch,” I say, my lips brushing against his neck. “It feels good to be back in your arms like this, Daddy.”
“Ah, fuck, Bug,” he says.
His wide arms and large hands envelope me. He holds me so tightly, I can barely move.
Daddy was a new thing. A new title he asked me to use after we were married. And there was something utterly satisfying about it. He was my lover, my protector, and he provided for me. Yes, I had money of my own from my family, but we burned through that as my parents cut me off in an attempt to control me.
He didn’t want me working while I was studying. Told me I should just focus on good grades and leave the rest to him.
He worked his day job hard and prospected for the club, determined to make something for the two of us.
So, Daddy felt appropriate.
And in return, I was his slut. A good girl ninety percent of every day, but the woman with barely any limits in the other ten percent.
He could use me however he wanted. I didn’t want him to ever hold back on his power and wanted him to know I could be as much of a lover as I was an outlet for every other emotion he was feeling.
It was symbiotic.
Balanced.
I lift off him until he’s barely still inside, then slam back down onto him, letting my clit brush against his pubic bone. The sparks of an orgasm flicker within me.
So, I repeat it.
