A Woman Scorned

Part 14

It was madness. Billy's hands all over you, yours over him, ripping each other's clothes off amidst hungry kisses and frantic movements. The two of you devoured each other, every moment his mouth and hands weren't on your body feeling like agony. You don't know how you ended up from the bench to the ground, your jackets mangled underneath you, your clothes scattered on the grass.

The cold air on your heated skin felt like heaven but there was no time to relish in it because his body was pressed against yours, his mouth on your nipples. Euphoria surged through you as his fingers found your pussy and curved into you.

You had a condom in your purse, he had one in his pocket – neither of you questioned why the other brought one to the funeral service. Maybe, deep down, you both knew today would be the day you would fuck each other again.

His eyes blazed with emotion, his gaze fixated on you as he trapped your arms over your head, caging you in completely. His cock brushed against your slit but he didn't penetrate you. You arched up your hips, your body's way of begging him for more, but he hovered above you, his body crushing you.

His black eyes had never been darker and more volatile than they were right now as he held you transfixed in place. "Say it."

Your mind was caught up in a haze of pleasure. It was hard to focus when you were so close to getting what you want. "What?" you asked in a daze.

"You know what."

You closed your eyes, trying not to get angry at him. "Billy, please." You reached up to kiss him, a part of you expecting him to pull away but he didn't. Instead he kissed you possessively, making you want him even more. Breathless, still holding you locked on the ground, he moved his body against yours, delving his tongue in your ear. He knew exactly what to do to make you cry out with pleasure and lose your mind.

"Say it," he repeated, his raspy voice more demanding this time. "Please."

Your heart was pounding in your chest. You wanted to hold on to your resolve and tell him to fuck off – but you couldn't. Not when his onyx eyes were looking at you with so much longing that you couldn't bear to keep your distance from him.

"I'm yours," you whispered.

That's all it took for him to unravel.

In all your months together you'd learned sex was never about emotions for Billy– it was only about pleasure. Like his animal magnetism and charm, it was a skill he cultivated. Not that he was selfish in bed, he definitely wasn't because he always ensured you were satisfied, but in the end you could have been anybody and he would have fucked you the same. Considering the nature of your casual arrangement, and that you'd never even had an orgasm that didn't involve a vibrator before him, you were more than happy to reap the rewards of his expertise, going along for the ride as he taught you how much fun sex could be – but you always knew you meant nothing to him.

Except this time it felt different. He felt different. This time when he touched you it was out of need and desperation and something else you didn't understand. With every bite, every kiss, every taste he demanded to leave his mark on your body and he did it with rapt attention focused entirely on you. He growled your name when he penetrated you, he ravaged your mouth as he thrust inside you. It was almost too much for you, you felt overwhelmed, overstimulated, your heard pounding in your chest, your body grinding up against his as you ached for release. But he wouldn't let you escape him, he wouldn't even let you close your eyes as he cradled your face. His physical hold on you wavered erratically between possessive and passionate to loving and gentle and it left you completely torn between ecstasy and madness.