Page 13 of Payback
“Is that all?” my husband asked.
“Was there more?” I countered.
Warren leaned back slightly, taken aback. If a confrontation wasn’t going to happen, he wasn’t seeking one. He derived more satisfaction from a tranquil household and thus shook his head.
“No, but I depart tomorrow.”
“Well then, let’s fuck, and I will help you pack,” I suggested.
His eyes widened in surprise, but I was resolute in my desire for this indulgence before assisting him.
“Or would you prefer to take me while I fold your shirts?”
A soft chuckle escaped him as he shook his head, promptly finishing his drink. He rose from his seat, approaching me with his hand extended. I accepted it and stood, allowing him to guide me back inside the house and upstairs to our bedroom. He directed me toward the bed, unzipping my skirt while walking behind me. I allowed it to fall to the floor and slipped out of my heels before landing on the plush bedding. Perched on my knees, I turned to face my husband. He began unbuttoning his shirt, mirroring my action with my own blouse. The throbbing between my legs had evolved into a frustrating ache, a powerful reminder of my need for an orgasm. I discarded my shirt and hastened to help my husband remove his pants.
“Eager, aren’t we?” he teased.
“I need you. Now,” I confessed, desperation seeping through my words.
I assisted him in disrobing, and when he stood naked before me, I reached out, wrapping my hand around his cock. I stroked him until he was fully erect, then enveloped him with my mouth. Simultaneously, I ventured lower, finding the sweet spot between my thighs and teasing myself.
“Alison, fuck,” he groaned. I didn’t intend to make him come like this. I simply wished to erase the feeling of Jared, and once I had the lingering feeling of my husband’s cock in my mouth, I leaned back, adjusting my position on the bed. I curled two fingers, beckoning him closer. He followed suit, placing himself on his knees. He gripped the sides of my panties, stripping them away and discarding them. Leaning over me, he positioned himself between my legs. I brushed his neck with my lips, lightly nibbling his skin. His hand ventured between us, teasing my hypersensitive flesh and eliciting a soft, pleasurable cry.
“God, you’re so wet,” he whispered, deepening the warmth I felt.
“Please, fuck me.”
He was oblivious to the intensity of my desperation to feel him inside me. He positioned himself, sliding in and filling me. I let out a gasp, reveling in the exquisite sensation of his cock within me. He began moving, and I wrapped my legs around him, but I yearned for more. He needed to act like Jared… No, fuck! Not Jared. He had to remove Jared. Warren needed to be forceful with me, erasing the lingering sensations of Jared’s control. I reached lower, my nails digging into his ass, urging him to delve deeper. He groaned, as the melding of pain and pleasure surged through him. His hips quickened, thrusting harder and faster into me.
“God, yes!” I cried out.
This was precisely what I craved—being ravished by my husband to purge the events of today. Warren fastened his pace, intensifying the pursuit of his release. Despite teetering on the brink, he wasn’t finding the exquisite spot within me. Just as I contemplated proposing a change in position, his body convulsed, tensing as he climaxed within me.
I lay on the bed, sweaty and trembling, yearning for more. When did we become this somber couple? I mused as he rolled away. When did our sexual connection devolve into a routine of hasty releases devoid of exploration? We both panted, recovering on the bed. His need was fulfilled, yet I was left wanting as his cum trickled from me. No wonder Jared had turned me on, I thought, only to chastise myself, loathing how I could be aroused by the very person who once held a ridiculous infatuation for me. I stood far above him. Regardless of his newfound wealth and confidence, he was not me.Shit!I thought. He had infiltrated my thoughts even in the sanctuary of my bedroom. How had he insinuated himself into my life? Had he already been in my house? Did he employ a private investigator to unearth my secrets? How had Jared metamorphosed into this unbelievable man?No!I inwardly yelled. I harbored no interest in his backstory. The bottom line was that he had evolved into a disgusting person, and I despised him even more for coercing me into pleasuring him. A truce was untenable. Tomorrow marked the beginning of a war.
“How about a shower?” Warren panted, pushing himself up from the bed and heading toward our bathroom.
I sighed, propping myself up on my elbows, listening to the sound of running water. Maybe I could find release there, yet my mood had been deflated. Jared had invaded my body, my home, and now my very bedroom. He had delivered a powerful blow, but nothing would be resolved until one of us surrendered. Though I had been on my knees earlier today, next time it would be his turn. By God, he would beg for mercy, just as he did when he was a kid.
Chapter 7
-Alison-
I rose early, savoring a few tranquil moments before the impending storm. Observing Warren as he organized his belongings, I noticed a genuine smile gracing his lips. An authentic one. He rarely wore that smile at home, except when post-orgasmic bliss settled in. He certainly reached his peak last night, but this time, his smile didn’t stem from that. It was the realization that he could escape the confinement of our home. How did we get so far off course? We were undoubtedly a suitable pair, enhancing each other’s images, and we had once shared genuine affection. Where did that love disappear to?
“I’ll see you soon,” Warren assured me, approaching me and placing a kiss on my cheek.
“Have a safe trip,” I responded.
He winked, then departed the house. As I watched his car drive away, I closed the door after him. I stood there, hand resting on the door’s surface, half-expecting Jared to materialize from the shadows, but he remained absent. I even checked various corners in my expansive house, just to be sure he wasn’t lurking like a boogeyman. With a sigh, I stopped by one of the couches in the living room, resting my hands on its back. Though I had no precise knowledge of Jared’s arrival time, I knew that once he did appear, it signaled the beginning. My personal hell would become my life for an entire month. I had already informed my family and colleagues of my absence, the thought fueling my anger. Clutching the soft fabric of the couch, I sought to regain my composure. I had decided that Jared wouldn’t emerge victorious. Yet I could have done without enduring this agonizing wait. While I appreciated anticipation in pleasurable matters, the prospect of waiting for a sudden, erratic intruder to claim me wasn’t exactly thrilling.
A sharp knock jolted me from my thoughts, causing me to jump. I turned, half-expecting the door to burst open, but it remained closed. Cautiously, I approached, anticipating Jared’s presence on the other side. However, upon opening the door, I was met by a young man delivering a package.
“What’s this?” I asked, noticing an item atop the package. A small flower—one I knew the name of. I accepted the package, carrying it inside and placing it on the kitchen island. I detached the little white envelope from the package that ensured the flower stayed secured to it. With frustration, I tore open the small letter, reading its contents.
Change into this before I come to pick you up, Sweet Alison.
-J
