Chapter 10 #2
“Suck it like you mean it, wife. Or I will fuck your throat until you cry.”
She does. Angry and vicious. She hollows her cheeks, takes me deep, tongue swirling around the head every time I pull back.
Her hands come up, one wrapping around the base to stroke what she cannot fit, the other digging nails into my ass.
She’s trying to make me lose control first. I thrust into her mouth in short, punishing strokes, watching her lips stretch around me, spit dripping down her chin.
“That’s it,” I growl. “Look at you on your knees for the monster. You hate me, but you suck my cock like you were born for it.”
She pulls off just long enough to snarl, “I hate every inch of you.”
Then she swallows me again, deeper this time, until her nose presses against my pelvis. I feel her throat constrict around me, and I almost come right there. I yank her off by the hair before I do. “Enough.”
I haul her up, spin her, and throw her onto the bed.
She bounces once, and I’m on her before she can scramble away.
I shove her dress up to her waist, hook my fingers in her panties, and rip them clean off her body.
The lace tears with a sharp sound. I push her thighs wide open and bury my face between them.
I eat her like a starving man. No teasing.
I suck her clit hard, flick it with my tongue, then thrust my tongue inside her, fucking her with it.
She bucks against my mouth, grinding against my face, but I pin her hips down with both hands.
Her fingers twist in my hair, yanking hard enough to hurt.
I growl against her pussy and suck harder.
“Fuck—you’re disgusting,” she gasps, but her hips are rolling against my tongue.
I pull back just enough to speak. “Disgusting? Your cunt is flooding my mouth, Anna. You’re dripping down my chin. Tell me again how much you hate me.”
“I hate you,” she hisses, but her voice cracks when I shove two fingers back inside her and curl them while I suck her clit again.
She comes fast and violently. Her thighs clamp around my head, her back arches off the bed, and she screams my name like a curse. I keep licking her through it, drawing it out until she’s shaking and cursing me.
I rise up, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, and finally rip her dress open from neckline to hem. Buttons fly. Fabric shreds. Her breasts spill free. I shove my pants the rest of the way down, climb over her, and drive my cock into her in one brutal thrust.
She’s still pulsing from her orgasm. The heat and tightness almost blind me. I slam into her over and over, the bed slamming against the wall. She claws at my back, nails tearing skin until I feel blood. Good. I want her marks on me.
I grab her wrists, pin them above her head, and fuck her harder. “You’re mine. Say it.”
“Never,” she spits, even as her legs wrap around my waist and her heels dig into my ass, pulling me deeper. “I’ll never be yours.”
I bite her shoulder hard enough to leave teeth marks. She cries out and bites my neck in return. We’re animals now. Skin slapping. Sweat slick. Blood and spit and her wetness everywhere.
I flip her suddenly, yank her hips up, and take her from behind. One hand fists her hair, the other reaches around to rub her clit. She pushes back against me, meeting every thrust, still fighting even while she chases another release.
“Come again,” I order. “Come on the cock you claim to hate.”
“I hate you,” she sobs, but her walls start fluttering. “I hate you so fucking much.”
She comes a second time, harder, screaming into the mattress, her cunt clamping down on me like a vise. I can’t hold back. I bury myself to the hilt and explode, flooding her with hot, thick pulses. My groan is raw and furious. I hate that she can pull this out of me. I hate how perfect she feels.
We collapse, both of us breathing like we ran a war. I stay inside her for a few more seconds, feeling her tremble around me. Then I pull out. Anna’s dress is torn, hair a mess, breathing like she just ran a marathon.
I button my pants and look down at her. There are scratches on my neck from her nails. Blood, probably. My shirt is ripped at the shoulder.
“You’re fighting a losing battle,” I tell her.
She looks up at me with pure hatred in her eyes. “Then I’ll lose. But I’ll never stop fighting you.”
I turn and walk out, closing the door behind me.
My hands are shaking. I clench them into fists and walk to my study.
Pavel is at his desk in the corner, reviewing something on his tablet. He looks up when I enter. “Everything alright?” he asks, taking in my appearance.
“Fine. Where’s Maxim?”
“Moscow. He’s overseeing the distribution network expansion. Should be back next week.”
“Call him. Tell him I want to speak with him.”
Pavel makes the call. Two minutes later, my phone rings.
“Father.” Maxim’s voice is professional. Distant.
“When are you coming back to the estate?”
“I’m not sure. The Moscow operations need attention. Yuri is having issues with—”
“I don’t care about Yuri’s issues. I want you here. You haven’t been to the estate since the wedding.”
Silence on the other end. Then, “I’ve been busy.”
“Too busy to meet your stepmother properly? To spend time with her children who are living in our house?”
“They’re her children. Not mine.”
“They’re part of this household. You need to establish a relationship with them.”
“Why? They’re four years old. What relationship am I supposed to have with four-year-olds?”
“A familial one. Anna is my wife. Those children are under my protection. You avoiding them sends a message.”
“What message?”
“That you don’t accept them. That you see them as outsiders.”
“Don’t they qualify as outsiders? Anna married into this family three weeks ago. The twins aren’t blood. Why should I treat them like family?”
“Because I’m telling you to.”
More silence. I can hear voices in the background. Maxim is at a restaurant or club, somewhere public.
“I’ll come by when I have time,” he says finally.
“Make time. This week.”
“I’m in Moscow until Thursday—”
“Then come Friday. Dinner. Seven o’clock. Be here.”
“I have plans Friday—”
“Cancel them.”
“Father—”
“Friday. Seven o’clock. Don’t make me ask again.”
I hang up before he can argue further.
Pavel is watching me. “He’s avoiding them.”
“Obviously.”
“Why?”
“Because he sees them as a threat, or an inconvenience. Or both.” I sit behind my desk. “He needs to adjust. This is the reality now.”
“And if he doesn’t adjust?”
“Then he’ll learn that defying me has consequences.”
Pavel nods and returns to his work. I stare at my phone.
Maxim will come to dinner. He’ll meet Anna properly. He’ll be civil to the twins. Because I’m ordering him to. But his reluctance is clear.
My son doesn’t want this new family any more than Anna does.
I run a finger over the scratches Anna left on my neck. In thirty years of business, thousands of negotiations, hundreds of conflicts, I’ve never lost control like that.
Anna makes me lose control.