Chapter 3 #2
I couldn't deny it. The thrill made me drip even more, my juices coating his shaft and thighs as he slammed into me.
He reached around, fingers finding my clit again, rubbing it in furious circles while his hips pistoned relentlessly.
The pressure built unbearably fast. I was close, so close, teetering right on the razor's edge, my walls fluttering wildly around him.
Only when I started to shatter did he pull me back down onto the seat, flipping me onto my back once more, reclaiming total control. He pinned my wrists above my head with one hand, the other gripping my hip hard enough to leave fingerprints. "Not yet. Beg for it."
"Please, Richard, faster! Let me cum! I need it, please!" My voice cracked, tears of frustration pricking my eyes as he slowed his thrusts deliberately, drawing it out until I was a writhing, sweat-slick mess beneath him. Every nerve ending screamed for release.
Finally, he sped up, hips snapping with savage precision, burying himself to the hilt one last time. "Now."
I exploded around him, waves of blinding pleasure crashing through me, my walls spasming violently, milking his cock as I screamed his name. My vision whited out, body convulsing, thighs shaking uncontrollably.
But he pulled out at the last second with a guttural groan, fisting his glistening shaft.
Hot ropes of cum spilled across my chest in thick, pearly strands, painting my breasts, dripping down my cleavage, marking me completely.
The sight was obscene and beautiful under the dim glow: my flushed, sweat-sheened skin streaked with his release, my pussy still clenching emptily, thighs glistening with our combined juices.
We panted there in the steamy car, bodies tangled and spent, the scent of sex heavy and intoxicating. He smirked down at me, thumb smearing a streak of his cum across my nipple like a signature.
Back to now.
"Natalie, focus."
Richard seemed to sense I'd zoned out. He sucked my nipple into his mouth, teeth scraping, and I heard my own moan escape my throat.
I snapped out of the memory of our first night.
From the moment I'd seduced him, I knew this relationship was mostly about physical desire.
But I wanted his love, so I kept changing myself, only for reality to slap me in the face—it was all a pipe dream.
What about Olivia?
Did Richard bite her nipples like this, making her moan? Did he thrust into her hard? Did he whisper dirty things in her bed, too?
I couldn't think about it anymore.
A sharp wave of nausea hit me hard. I pressed my hand to his chest, pushing with some force. "Richard, no..."
He stopped.
I'd never refused him in bed before. This was the first time.
So he propped himself up, studying my face in the dim light. "You're already wet."
Richard held out his hand, showing me the slick on his fingers.
Of course I was wet. My body hadn't been mine for ages. Even if my heart felt cold as a stone in a cellar, my skin heated and trembled under his touch, betraying me.
He stared at me for a long time, his gaze like a scalpel, slicing through layers, leaving me exposed. Just as I couldn't take it anymore and was about to speak, he moved.
"Then we'll do it another way." His voice brushed my ear. "You know what to do."
I froze. I wanted to say no, to push him away. But when his callused fingers stroked my skin again, pressing just right, all resistance crumbled against my body's honest reactions.
He stood up slowly, towering over me like a dark god as I lay sprawled on the edge of the bed.
My legs dangled off the side, thighs still trembling from the earlier teasing.
His cock stood rock hard, thick and heavily veined, throbbing visibly in the low lamplight that cast golden shadows across his sculpted abs and the defined lines of his hips.
Without a word, he grabbed my right foot.
His large hand wrapped my soft sole firmly around the scorching length of his shaft.
The heat of him seared into my skin at once, velvety steel wrapped in feverish flesh.
"Like this," he commanded, his voice low and rough. "Make me feel good, Natalie."
Heat flooded my cheeks. A deep blush burned down my neck and across my bare breasts. "Richard..."
"Tell me what you are thinking. What you feel." He guided my foot up and down his length in slow, deliberate strokes. The slick glide of my arch against his underside made him hiss through clenched teeth. His hips jerked forward slightly, chasing the friction.
I shook my head. My lips pressed tight together. I was too embarrassed to voice the filthy thoughts swirling in my mind, how much I loved the way his cock twitched under my sole, how the sight of my painted toes curling around him made my pussy clench emptily.
"Fine." His eyes darkened with wicked promise. He lifted my left leg high and draped it over his broad shoulder, folding me open in that devastating position that always made me come fastest.
The stretch pulled deliciously at my hamstrings as his cock, still glistening from my earlier arousal, teased my entrance.
He rubbed the swollen, leaking head up and down my slick folds, coating himself in my wetness and nudging my clit with every slow pass until sparks of sharp pleasure shot through my core.
His free hand kneaded my breast roughly.
His fingers pinched and rolled the stiff nipple until it throbbed in time with my racing heartbeat.
I squirmed beneath him. My hips rolled desperately as I ached for more. "Please... just fuck me."
"Beg properly," he growled. He ground harder against me. The fat head bumped my clit again and again, sending jolts of electric need straight up my spine.
"God, Richard, I need your cock inside me," I gasped, my voice breaking. "Filling me up and pounding me until I scream. Please. I will do anything."
He smirked, slow and predatory. "You're gonna have to figure it out."
Lust crashed over me like a wave, drowning everything else.
I sat up and pushed him onto the bed.
Pressure coiled tight and fast in my belly, tighter than I had ever felt before. I jumped up and pushed him onto the bed.
My thighs trembled as I straddled him, my slick pussy pressed firmly against his hard cock. I rocked my hips slowly at first, letting his thick length slide between my wet folds, the swollen head rubbing repeatedly over my clit with every glide.
"I am... I am going to..." My voice cracked into a sharp cry as the orgasm slammed into me. I came hard, grinding desperately against his cock while my pussy clenched and fluttered wildly. Hot, pulsing waves crashed through me, my juices coating his entire length as I soaked him completely.
My back arched sharply, my breasts bouncing with every convulsion. I screamed his name, the sound raw and unrestrained. Wave after wave of pleasure tore through me as I kept rubbing my dripping pussy up and down his rigid shaft.
Even as I shattered, I didn’t stop moving. I kept sliding my slick, sensitive folds along his cock, prolonging every spasm until my vision whited out and my legs turned to jelly.
He followed right after me, groaning loudly as his hips jerked upward. His cock throbbed violently between my folds, erupting in thick, hot ropes of cum that spilled across my pussy and lower belly, mixing with my own juices in a messy, glistening slick.
Afterward, the bedroom echoed with our heavy breaths mingling in the dark.
Richard got up and headed to the bathroom.
I curled up, burying my hot face in the pillow. Until he came back, a cool, wet towel gently wiping my calves, then my ankles. He was thorough, but it only made me feel more embarrassed and confused. It almost made me think he really loved me.
"Now," Richard tossed the towel aside, sitting on the bed's edge, his fingers tucking a sweaty strand of hair behind my ear. His voice was back to its usual calm, almost gentle. "Tell me, what's with the attitude all night—no, these past few days?"
I closed my eyes. "Nothing."
"Nothing?" He chuckled, but there was no warmth in it. "From that red dress breaking the rules, to not even opening my gift, to refusing me just now..." He paused, tone certain. "Natalie, you never do this. Tell me why."
My brain raced, but I couldn't come up with a lie to fool him.
Just then, Richard's phone buzzed on the nightstand.
He glanced at the caller ID, his brow furrowing slightly, then picked it up and looked at me. "We'll talk later. Go shower."
He stood, answering the call as he walked to the window, voice low. I caught a few words, but nothing clear.
I stared at the ceiling, exhaling slowly, and went to the bathroom.
Under the shower, as soon as I closed my eyes, my mind flooded with images of Richard erotically pressing my foot against his cock.
My hand slid down to my belly, then between my legs, uncontrollably.
The moment my fingers touched my folds, I moaned again.
No, Richard cheated.
I couldn't masturbate thinking of him.
I yanked my hand back, hoping the burning ache would fade on its own, but my body betrayed me.
I gave in completely, fingers thrusting between my legs.
After the climax, I cooled down, looking at my stomach.
Every morning, the first thing I thought about was the baby in my belly. When I did, nothing else seemed to matter.
My child couldn't grow up without a father. I knew too well what that felt like. Plus, my dad's company still relied on Winston Group's help. So I needed this marriage to last, needed at least the appearance of a family.
I had to talk to Richard. Tell him about the baby and what I'd overheard at the hospital. I wanted his answer, and greedily, a promise—no more other women.
After the shower, I slipped into a simple house dress, steeling myself to go to his study. But he pushed the door open first. Richard was already in a crisp shirt and slacks, hair perfect, like the intensity never happened.
"I have a last-minute meeting for a deal." He adjusted his cuffs, not looking at me. "Tomorrow night's charity gala at Calvin's—you're coming with me. The dress and accessories are arranged. They'll deliver them soon."
"Richard, I..."
"Natalie, you're my wife. Just follow my lead." He cut me off, walking over, lifting my chin. "A wife's main duty is in bed. I hope that was your last refusal."
He turned and left, giving me no chance to speak.
Later, a big gift box arrived in my room.
Inside was a champagne-colored one-shoulder floor-length gown, simple cut, luxurious fabric, with matching clutch and heels. Mature, steady—his usual pick for me.
The next evening, I was supposed to ride with Richard to the gala, but ten minutes before leaving, he texted.
"I have something to handle. Driver will take you straight there."
I stared at the commanding tone and shut off my phone.
The gala was at a swanky hotel in Beverly Hills.
The hall was full of people I knew or who knew me. I held a champagne flute, standing near the floor-to-ceiling windows. I was scanning for Richard, but spotted Olivia first.
Her gown was almost identical to mine—but fancier, with hand-embroidered bodice and more intricate skirt.
I didn't need anyone to spell it out. I got it.
A massive wave of humiliation squeezed my heart like an icy fist, stealing my breath.
"Natalie, long time no see." Olivia's voice came, laced with that arrogance I always hated.
"After Richard had this dress custom-made for me last week, I told him to ditch the sample.
Never thought it'd end up on you. It's not perfect, but since Richard gave it to you.
.. Guess he thinks the knockoff suits you, right? "
Her words stabbed like knives.
I wanted to fire back, but my mouth opened and nothing came out—because she was right.
Richard had given me Olivia's castoffs.
People around noticed us together, saw the dresses. They started whispering.
"Natalie trying to play socialite is hilarious. Look at her background—if not for Richard, she'd never get into a place like this, not in this life or the next."
"No clue what Richard was thinking, marrying someone so ordinary. Olivia's way more capable."
They compared us.
They said my blonde hair looked like straw, my figure like bad plastic surgery... Their words got nastier, humiliation heating my skin.
"Natalie, don't stoop to their level." Olivia sighed, like talking to a kid. "But have you thought maybe these proper gowns and fancy events are just too much for you? Next time, tell Richard to leave you home."
She leaned in, voice just for us. "You'd fit better in a sequin bikini, shaking it at a strip club, guys stuffing cash in your bra. That's your scene. At least there, no one expects you to fake being a lady."
My head nearly exploded.
She wasn't even pretending anymore. Thought sleeping with Richard gave her the right to judge me?
I gripped my glass, knuckles white.
I hated Richard.
Hated him for making me wear this, for leaving me alone here, for letting Olivia humiliate me like this.
But I hated myself more for thinking they might be right.
Olivia raised her left hand, the diamond on her ring finger blinding. "Richard gave me this yesterday. Said it's an early birthday gift. Seven figures."
I stared at the stone, suddenly wanting to cry.
"Oh, right," Olivia said, like remembering something fun. "A year ago on your birthday, Richard was at my place. He got drunk and missed yours. But he felt bad the next day... I heard he grabbed a random rose off the street for you?"
"A rose tops out at thirty bucks." Olivia eyed me, pity laced with mockery. "You're like that flower, Natalie. Cheap, disposable. Anyone could—"
I couldn't take it anymore.
I splashed the champagne in her face.
It dripped down her hair, ruining her high-end gown. Olivia's gasp drew everyone's eyes.
Finally, I felt a rush of satisfaction.
"Natalie!"
Richard's voice came from behind me, anger barely contained.