Page 12 of The Ruin
“On your knees, and spread them wide.”
I scramble to get purchase on the comforter to do as he asks, but I don’t move fast enough. His palm comes down over my ass with a loud crack. I jerk at the sensation while biting my lower lip to hold back a delighted cry. I love it when he’s domineering in bed.
The hot sting of pain is followed by a heady rush of pleasure. Roughly, Luka grips my hips and adjusts me just the way he wants, then pushes me to all fours. His warmth covers my back as he leans slightly over me. The enlarged tip of his cock bumps against my wet pussy. Aching and needy, I push back against him, trying to force my walls to relax.
He rewards me by thrusting in, hard and deep.
“Luka,” I gasp, an urgent moan escaping me, my fists gripping the sheets.
I don’t have time to catch my breath before he begins pumping into me like a jackhammer, all his pent-up energy coming out in each frantic thrust. His movements are urgent and demanding, not gentle, but I don’t want him to be. The friction is amazing, and I love the way his fingers dig into my hips, holding me steady, his thighs slamming into the back of mine as he finds a rhythm, losing himself inside me.
“Touch yourself,” he commands me. “Make yourself come. Make it loud.”
He doesn’t have to tell me twice. But his impatience beats me to it. He pushes my head down on the mattress and then drags my hand between my legs. “Do it. Now.”
I pause to absorb the feeling of him pounding into me, so good I never want it to stop. Then, with a shaking hand, I do as he asks. I’m slick from his force, the sensation of his cock so all-consuming that I can barely find the strength or concentration to stroke my clit. He slaps my ass again and the shock of electricity nearly sends me over the edge.
I work myself with my fingers as he increases his pace, starting to lose control.
“Oh God,” I pant softly. “Yes, yes.”
“Louder.”
“Yes,” I yell. “Fuck yes, Luka. Fuck me.”
The sounds of our passion fill the room and my mind begins to slip into its own state of consciousness. One dominated by nothing but this feeling.
Then Luka slides a palm over my throat and forces my head back, squeezing just enough that I feel it when I try to breathe.
“Come for me,” he growls. “Come for me, wife.”
It’s enough to send me over the edge. Suddenly I’m climaxing with more force than I ever have in my life, my moans pitching higher and higher as a second shockwave ripples through me. His grip tightens and he groans long and loud as he thrusts almost violently into me, his own release exploding deep inside with a hot, furious pulse.
He pulls out almost immediately and collapses onto the bed, pulling me back with him. I topple in a graceless heap, facing the wall and panting for air. The sweat cooling on my skin causes me to shiver, and suddenly he’s curving himself around me, his arms holding me tight.
He’s holding on to me.
He used me like I asked him to, and now he’s not letting go.
Emotions well up in me as my heart rate slows and I let myself relax beside him. He pulls a light blanket over us and I lay completely still, taking in the steady feel of his chest rising and falling against my back and the heat of his body warming me. And then his arms go a little lax…then a little more, until I can tell by his steady, even breathing that he’s fallen asleep.
Lazily, I stroke his wrist with my fingers and it doesn’t take long for me to drift off in my husband’s embrace.
The next morning I wake with a start and it takes a second to realize where I am. Luka’s bedroom. The penthouse. Home.
Contentment settles over me, as if I belong here and nothing is out of place. Yet something is missing. I feel it even in my sleepy state. Stretching, I fling my arm over to Luka’s side of the bed and slowly roll that way as memories of the night before seep in.
Smiling, I press my face into his pillow, taking in his scent. It hits me then that his space is empty, the sheets cool. Disappointed, I turn over on my back and stare up at the familiar ceiling of the master suite.It’s okay that he’s gone, I tell myself. I’m the one who asked for a divorce. And I’m the one who told him to use me however he wanted to. Besides, Luka’s the last person who’d take a day off from work, even after a long day of testifying in court.
Despite the pang of hurt that he’s not here, I feel lighter somehow, as if fucking my husband is exactly what I needed to break the rut that I’m in.
I lay there a few moments more before rising and getting dressed and ready to leave. Mr. Kibbles is sleeping soundly on his doggie bed. All this back and forth isn’t really fair to him. But glancing around the living room, I know that I can’t stay. It’s not where I belong anymore. I just wish this whole thing didn’t feel so confusing.
“Come on, Kibby,” I croon as I snap his leash into place.
Leaving a note on the entryway table, I take one last look behind me before I walk out.
I wonder if Luka will even find it.
