Reprisal

CHAPTER TWELVE

     THREE WEEKS LATER

          Her nails bite into his shoulders, legs wrapping tighter around his hips as he fucks into her, her back pressing against the book case of his office.

". . . I love you ," It's nearly whimpered from her before her soft moan is muffled with his lips, Dyess' tongue meeting his wife's as she hits her high, her words encouraging his pace to pick up, addicted to the way her back arches, her brown eyes close and her full lips part while she squeezes around him as tightly as she does.

He's soon reaching his own end, spilling into her before tucking himself back into his pants and buckling his belt, smoothing over his hair as she cleans herself up as best as she can.

He grins looking at her, thoroughly enjoying the sight of his spent running down her leg before she's scrubbing it away with facial tissue from his desk.

Dyess hadn't known what had gotten into his wife, lately, but the last couple weeks had been spent fucking like rabbits, his wife being the one to initiate it more times than not, getting so desperate that she hadn't been able to control herself — not even at work — coming to visit him only to drag him into his office or a bathroom and rip at his belt.

Part of him believed that being at home was boring her, another part believed that with the absence of work in her life, she had more time to focus on him and she was merely missing him while he was away.

. . .And then there was the obvious reason for her seemingly insatiable appetite for him.

They had been trying for another baby, per her request.

It had been music to his ears for her to tell him not to bother with any protection, or pulling out.

He felt like all was finally right in the world: he had hit a milestone in his career, his wife had quit her job to stay home and look pretty, and was constantly on his prick, begging for a load.

All of it had sprung out of nowhere.

At least he tells himself that, even as they step to the door and unlock it, coming face to face with Coriolanus whose hand had been raised as if about to knock on the door.

Tawny looks up at him bitterly, and he looks at her with the same spite, knowing very well from the mess of her hair and stumble of her legs what had been occurring, while Dyess pretends not to take notice of either exchange.

Just like he pretended not to notice how coincidental it had been that when Livia Snow announced her pregnancy, Tawny decided she too wanted to have another child.

Typically Coriolanus and Tawny would exchange polite acknowledgements, a cordial, "Mr. Snow," and "Dr. Crane," in passing.

But this time, they look at one another, eyes lingering more than they would with anyone else, looking at one another the way they always had, but don't speak a word as he steps aside so there's no chance of her touching him on her way by.

The last time she had touched him was three weeks ago, and ended abruptly in a screaming match, something they had never quite done — raised voices were no stranger between them in the middle of back and forth bantering, but it never quite reached as loud as it did that day.

Horrendous things thrown at one another just to see the other person's jaw clench, their eyes dim.

What a whore she was, how her next career should be established in prostitution seeing as spreading her legs to married men seemed to come easy to her.

What a disappointment to his father he would be if Crassus Snow had only been able to see his son, now, having done something as classless as cheat on his pregnant wife.