Because when he got angry at me, when he yelled and screamed, when he thrust me against the wall, his hand around my neck, and seethed in my ear … God, it was the only time that he seemed like the same man I married. That hard Dom.
Not like the man he had been lately.
I gazed back at Jack, smirked, and curled my fingers into his taut chest. “Yes,” I said, inching closer to him, one of his knees between mine.
The closer I moved, the farther his knee inched up the inside of my thighs, the higher my dress rose, the longer his eyes lingered on my legs. “I have a husband that doesn’t please me anymore. Refuses to fuck me the way I want to be fucked.” My fingers trailed up his neck, and he tensed. “Hard. Rough. Until my legs are quivering.”
When I pulled away from him, his eyes were hazier. Maybe it was the alcohol or the inner brat in me, but I pulled him closer to me and let his knee graze against my panties.
He didn’t know how to react at first, but then he smirked at me. I trailed my hand lower down his chest to his abs. I clenched when I felt the hard muscle underneath.
He grabbed my chin in his hand. “Is that an invitation?”
My eyes flickered to my husband, Nicholas. His knuckles were white against his glass, his jaw was clenched.
“If you want it to be,” I said, batting my lashes.
“If I want it to be?” He placed his glass of beer on the bar and scooted closer, pressing his knee harder against my panties. God, oh God. “How about we get out of here, and I show you how much I want it to be?”
I hopped off of the stool, breasts bouncing, and tugged down the bottom of my dress. He threw a couple bucks onto the counter, brushed his fingers against my lower back, and turned around to head toward the exit.
Nicholas stood there, glaring at me with hard eyes and an even tenser jaw. “Actually, she’s going home with me. Now, I suggest that you leave before I have to take care of you myself.”
Jack’s fingers curled into my side. “And who are you? Trying to talk to me like that?”
“Her husband,” Nicholas said, gaze remaining on me. He snatched me away from Jack, grasping my arm tightly and dragging me out of the bar.
“Let me go,” I said, yanking my arm away from him and growling under my breath.
God, he ruined everything. Absolutely everything. Couldn’t let me have one night of fun … at least, that’s what I had to let him believe. To get his attention. To get him angry. To get him to fuck me tonight. I stormed to the car, listening to his hard footsteps behind me.
When he got into the car, he pressed his lips together, locked the doors, and sped onto the highway toward home.
“What was that?” I asked, jaw clenching. “You’re ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.”
His grip on the steering wheel tightened. I waited for his response-to scream, to yell, to scold me-but it never came.
“Are you just gonna sit there and ignore me?” I shouted because that was not what I planned to happen.
He was a frightening kind of quiet tonight. I needed something to get a rise out of him.
Something. Something. Something.
I crossed my arms over my chest and stared out the windshield. “You know what? I should’ve stayed there and fucked him in the bathroom.
He touched me more in those last few minutes than you had all week.” No response. “His fingers gliding up the inside of my legs, his cock pressing against my thigh. God, he felt so big. Bigger than you.” Nothing. “I bet he could actually leave me shaking with pleasure-unlike you.” Nothing, absolutely nothing.
He calmly parked the car in front of our home, stormed to my side of the car, snatched my arm, and roughly yanked me out. After pulling me all the way to our bedroom, he pushed me inside of it and shoved me down onto the bed. With raging, wrathful eyes and that dom look that always used to make me submit, he glared at me.
“You want to be fucked until you’re shaking with pleasure, or do you want to be fucked like the whore you were at the party tonight?”
“I was not acting like a whore.” I was. “Don’t you dare call m-”
He roughly gripped my chin and tugged me closer to him. “You are a whore, Janna.” He lifted my dress, ripped off my panties, and grabbed my pussy roughly. “You’ve probably been this wet all night.”
“At least he could make me this wet. You haven’t been able to do shi-”
He grabbed my panties and stuffed them into my mouth. “Maybe that’ll shut you up for a couple minutes, Janna, because all I hear coming out of your fucking mouth are lies.” His hand snaked around my throat, and he squeezed tightly, yanking me off the bed and pushing me against the wall. “You want to be a lying whore, I’ll treat you like one.”
With his other hand, he ripped off the buttons on the front of my dress, letting my breasts fall right out of it. After groping one roughly, he slapped it, watching it bounce as I struggled against his grip.
He chuckled menacingly at my failed attempts to escape and pinched my nipple harshly between his fingers. He released my neck and pinched my other nipple, squeezing them both and pulling them down, so I stumbled onto our hardwood floor and landed on my knees.
After releasing his grip, he unbuttoned his pants, pulled out his cock, and slapped it against my cheek. I sat on the ground, rubbing my sore nipples, and let him slap me with it over and over.
Let him take his cock in his balls in his hand and slap them on my cheek, on my lips, on my tits any way he wanted.
“Open your fucking mouth,” he said.