Chapter 10 #3
He looks at me, totally shocked. Before he can even process it, I spit right in his face. It's not a lot, but it's enough to stun him. He takes a deep, heavy breath, closes his eyes for a second, opens them, and pulls away, getting completely off the bed.
"You give up so easily," I taunt, sitting up. I've never talked to him like this ever. "You're supposed to be a titan in your world, with an ambition unmatched by anyone else, and look at you giving up. You pussy."
He looks back at me, and instead of getting mad, he actually smiles through the side of his mouth.
"You wanna be naughty right now, do you?" he asks.
"Naughty? No. I actually hate you."
He blinks slowly, probably wondering whether or not I'm joking. I lean forward and slap him again.
"Melody, stop," he gives me a clear warning.
"Or what are you gonna do, Daniel? You're gonna pity-fuck me with your sad dick that can't even get as hard as it used to?"
His mouth opens slightly. This is exactly the reaction I wanted out of him. Sucking in his bottom lip, he leaps back on top of me, grabbing my legs and pulling them straight toward him so that my hips fall right over his lap as he kneels. My legs swing wide open, wrapping tightly around his waist.
"Go ahead. Give it your best shot," I dare him. "Let's see how sad you can fuck me, like you always do. I don't have any respect for you anymore. You don't even know how to sex me good. Maybe I should just find someone else."
Daniel says absolutely nothing. Instead, he grabs my hips and starts plowing into me hard.
I yelp out when I feel the pain of his dick stab.
Him sitting back on his knees like that, driving my hips upward, feels amazing.
It literally makes it feel like his penis is about to burst right through my lower belly.
Then he leans forward, bracing himself up on his fingertips as he pistons his hips into me, completely rattling my bones around in there. It feels so good.
Honestly, I want the pain. I want him to fuck me angry. But he doesn't say a single word; he just keeps screwing me. And then, he comes really loud. I guess he liked the talking down after all.
I haven't come yet, so I wait for him to keep going, but he just pulls out and gets up.
"Where are you going?" I ask.
"You hate me, right? So I'm going."
"I was role-playing with you!"
"You spat in my face," he says, glaring angrily at me.
"Oh my god. You're acting like you weren't turned on by it."
"No. I'm not turned on by my wife spitting in my face," he snaps. "Forgive me if I don't feel like making you come after that."
He throws on a shirt and some clothes, and he actually walks out, heading straight into the bathroom.
Suddenly, his phone lights up on the nightstand. My heart instantly starts beating fast. Looking back toward the bathroom door, praying that he's not gonna come out anytime soon, I creep over to his side of the bed.
It's unlocked. When I look at the screen, my heart completely drops. He had been looking at his phone every now and then before we even came upstairs to do this. He must have just put it down right before he called me onto the bed.
On the screen, there is a site with a woman.
Her breasts are completely on display. She's in the exact same sitting position he was in earlier, fully nude, showing everything.
She has long, dark brown hair. Some random woman that, apparently, he had been chatting with earlier.
And apparently, he had just dropped twelve hundred dollars to do god knows what.
There are live chats between them. I click on an earlier video, making sure to quickly lower the volume, constantly glancing back and forth at the bathroom door.
I look the woman up, and she's a porn star.
I don't know if he knows her personally, but then I go further back into his browsing history and see that there are other sites, too.
This shouldn't make me upset, not to this degree, but it's obviously starting to affect our marriage. These are real, live women. It's not like he's just looking at pictures from afar. He's jerking off to them and actively interacting with them, and that is a huge no-no for me.
Something else inside me makes me wanna dig into his text messages, but I hear the handle turn. He's already coming out of the bathroom.
Panicking, I quickly swipe out of the window, lock his phone, and toss it back onto the nightstand before scrambling to sit back up on the bed.
He can't know that I was looking through his phone. But oh my god, I feel physically sick.
He walks over, looks at me, and then grabs his phone. He looks down at the screen, then looks up at me, then looks back down at his phone again.
"What's going on?" I ask.
"I'll be back a little later," he says.
"I thought you wanted to take a nap together?"
"No. I don't feel like taking a nap now," he says. "Someone slapped the sleep right out of me."
At first, I think he's trying to joke, but he totally isn't. He rolls his eyes, turns on his heel, and leaves the room.
And once again, I'm left all alone.
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