Page 140 of Trust Me

“They’ll be lucky if I let them leave without a few broken bones for getting a glimpse of what’s mine,” I tell her at the same time I slowly ease into her.

“That … that,” she pants. “That’s not fair.”

“Fuck fair.” I push all of the way inside of her. “Was it fair for you to interrupt my meeting like that?” I squeeze her neck at the same time I rock my hips into her.

This angle is good but it’s not enough. I need to possess her, own her.

I lift her left leg to prop it onto my desk, opening her up for me even more, allowing me to get another inch deeper. Riley purrs, her head lolling back against my shoulder. Her hair fans out against my shirt and only two words come to mind.

She’s mine.

I grip her hip with one hand and keep her locked to me by the throat with the other while I take possession of her from the inside out. She pants my name in between strokes.

“Come for me, Riley,” I demand right before biting her earlobe.

She lets out a moan from the back of her throat, and I tighten my hold on her to rock her through her orgasm. Her pussy spasms around my cock. My vision blurs, and I feel slightly dizzy with the restraint of holding back my own orgasm.

Once Riley’s release lets up, I pull out of her just in time. My cum splashes all over Riley’s backside. Seeing it mark her flesh, my dick is like a faucet that won’t turn off.

By the time I stop coming, Riley’s ass and back are marked with my cum.

“I … can’t … believe we just did that,” she says in between gasps.

I can’t stop staring at her. She looks so beautiful like this. Marked by me.

Mine.The one word that keeps coming to mind and making any sense right now.

My fucking wife.

CHAPTER33

Riley

Kyle:I’ll be home in the next thirty minutes. Picking up Eve on the way from the office.

A smile spreads across my face as I read the text. It’s been almost three months since we married, a month since our ceasefire, and two weeks since that crazy office encounter. Living with Kyle like this shouldn’t feel natural. He shouldn’t be texting me that he’ll behomesoon, or that he’s picking up Eve from school on the way.

I think about how wrong this all should feel as I break the spaghetti noodles in half and toss them in the boiling water. Eve is loving Excelor Academy and recently joined the Mathlete team, which is why she’s stayed late.

This feels like a family.

At that thought, I stop like a record is scratching.

My phone buzzes again.

Kyle:Make sure the VR game is set up and ready for tonight’s rematch. Eve is not beating me tonight!

I laugh at the angry face emoji he places at the end of his comment.

“He’s so damn competitive,” I mumble.

The other week Kyle overheard Eve asking me to play the video game with her. We played a few rounds of her favorite games, but I couldn’t do it for too long. Those virtual reality games tend to spark my migraines. That’s when Kyle took over and played with her.

Ever since, the two have played every night after dinner. They both have their wins and losses, but Kyle always swears to get the upper hand after a loss. He’s a sore loser, even to an eleven year old.

It cracks me up.

I’m still laughing, thinking about the pouting face he made the night before after his loss. I had to be the one to tell him that no Eve could not stay up past her bedtime just so he could have a rematch. I’m pretty sure he was more upset than she was.

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