JOANNE.
Hardy I aggressively grabbed the upper folds of my nightdress before tearing it apart like it didn’t cost a dime.
I shrieked, and my hands immediately went up to cover my unclad breasts.
“What are you doing?” I tried to yell, but my voice came out weak, already infected with anxiety.
“What am I doing?” He chuckled bitterly.
Even with the room’s dim light. The intensity of his gaze, filled with animosity towards me, was unmistakable.
His gaze had deepened to a shade twice as dark as usual. What was once delightful turned into something repulsive, making me wonder if he was even human.
“What? You have nothing to do with me.” His voice sounded so painful that it almost made me regret saying anything.
But I had to.
This man had no heart.
But he was drunk. I wish I could say all these with him sober.
“Look at you,” He chuckled and examined me closely.
There was a moment of silence. Endearing in the dreadful void of silence.
His gaze was fixed on me.
My body. To be precise,.
His eyes draped over my hands, covering my chest.
“I own every piece of you.” He gently took my hands off, still gawking at my breasts like they had something other than flesh on them.
Attempting to retract my hands proved futile, as his grasp was far more powerful than my feeble attempts to break free.
“You’re my tool. I’m supposed to use you to my satisfaction.” He exhaled as if reassuring and reminding himself rather than telling me.
With an exasperated expression, I rolled my eyes.
Was he seriously bringing up the tool thing again?
I was tired of fighting his hold on my wrists. I let my body falter and let out a sigh, leaving my muscles to surrender.
He leaned down, and I felt his weight on my body-all parts of my body except my stomach.
I guess being drunk didn’t take away the part of me being pregnant from his mind.
“Do you understand?” He asked.
His breath still smelled like a mixture of alcohol, but his cologne was stronger than it.
I didn’t say a word and just glared at him.
He needed to know that I was offended, that I hated him, and that he was being unfair.
“You signed my contract,” he reminded me, a taste of happiness at the corners of his lips.
“Oh, please, you of all people know I was deceived, and half of it was fabricated by Bailey, who should be going through all these and not me! I don’t want to be a good friend anymore.”
He laughed.
And nothing was absolutely funny about what I said.
“Exactly, you ought to pay evil with evil. But it’s too late now, isn’t it? Joanne?”
There was a way he called my name and pieced his gaze through me that made my left leg twitch.
No. Not why.
I should be locked up for finding the roll of my name in his tongue sexy.
I needed help.
“Well, get off me. You’re squishing me,” I complained.
Hardy’s gaze darkened. “Did you also tell Theodore to stop when he got on you like this?”
“What?” My mouth fell open.
He brought his head even lower. “Did you? Or you just wanted to fuck him like a whore?”
My breath seized from Hardy’s mean words, and I tried not to let it get to me.
I knew it amused him to see me scared or heavily affected by his mean words.
So instead of acting like a limping bird, I let the words flow right out of my mouth. I am waiting to see his reaction.
“I would never tell Theodore to stop. He handled me perfectly, almost like the handyman no one asked for but gets the job done. And he didn’t look as dreadful and desperate as you.”
I tried not to smirk when Hardy’s eyebrows twitched.
Despite trying to arrest his anger, I could see it as clear as day.
He pulled his body back and looked down at me. I noticed his Adam apple bobbing, probably pushing an angry lump in his throat.
“Desperate?” He scoffed.
“You even ripped my dress,” I whispered, and I glanced down at my open breasts to confirm his desperation.
I was waiting for his face to morph into more anger for putting a string around his feelings, but instead a smile hinted at his bottom lip before he grinned slyly.
What?
“I know what you’re doing,” he grumbled.
I raised a brow.
“Don’t play clueless. We’ll see who ends up desperate.” He added it and grabbed the rest of my dress.
Shredding my night dress in absolute rag pieces, he tossed it like the frail material was standing in his way.
I gasped, feeling my entire existence sink into the bed as His eyes ran an observation on my naked body.
I could feel my heartbeat in between my legs, and I slowly smushed my legs together, as if it would keep the sound away.
My breathing has become heavy, and my insides are starting to create tiny torches, lit up in the most intense way.
What was he doing?
I should be sleeping.
Hardy leaned down, and his mouth covered mine in a swift.
I didn’t resist because it would lead nowhere.
I’ve noticed I could only talk back to Hardy, but things would still go his way if he wanted to.
His mouth tasted sweet, sour, and vodka, yes. Especially vodka. His action tonight was clearly ignited by the heavy amount of drinks he had.
I felt all the hairs on my body stand immediately, and he started to use a lot of tongue. It was like a power line was suddenly connected to my body, and the main source was my mouth.
With our tongues halfway, he licked my bottom lips before pulling away.
Leaving my mouth hanging and desperate for more.
Dang it!
He grinned at me.
I could tell what he was doing.
And it looked like he had a lot of time on his hands.
His eyes remained on my eyes, and I watched him move down slowly, and his body lowered at the same time his chin brushed over my left nipple, sending electrons that sent it hard and perky.
He warmed my hard nipple with his breath before closing it with his mouth. He started sucking me like his life depended on it, and I grabbed a fold of the sheets and bit my bottom lip not to let out a sound.
I hated how good I was feeling.
He pulled back and raised his head to look at me.
I concealed my slowly disheveled breath and hid whatever lustful face I had thrown on.
“Like that?” He asked with a sly grin.
I rolled my eyes, like I wasn’t affected. Like all my sensual muscles, I wasn’t trying to run after him and get another pleasing pleasure from either his mouth, hand, or any part of him.
A man like Hardy? Any part of him would turn me on.
If he wasn’t such a devil, I wouldn’t hate him this much.
“Stubborn, aren’t we?” He scoffed and took off the gray shirt he had on.
I gulped.
His bulky chest and broad shoulders are so vivid and detailed that I wanted to immediately compare them to a boulder.
I guess it might be even harder than a boulder.
The V-line tucked at his pants that ended his packs at the end of his torso was so structured that it made me start to picture what the end of it holds.
I was feeling hot, and there was no denying that I wanted every part of Hardy.
How was he so hot?
Why was he there?
He shouldn’t be!
And my stupid, horny ass loved every part of his body right then.
I didn’t let my face become readable.
If he could do this to me, drunk and almost out of mind,.
What could he do to me?
The thought made me squirm, and my eyes twitched.
Hardy looked a bit unstable, and you could tell the alcohol was still beating his ass, but he still managed to take off his belt and then his pants.
Stupidly, I didn’t even know why I asked.
“You’re not going to fuck me now, are you?” I ask.
My heart is beating faster than a drum.
I mean? Would he?
“We’re both naked. What’s left. You’re my favorite tool right now. No questions were asked.
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