Then I’m a fucking tyrant.
“There was only one time I intervened in your marriage before you invited the carnage.” I fuck her wildly, like she is to blame for her husband’s fucked-up ideas of marital bliss. “I didn’t give a fuck that you had his last name. There was no way I was going to let a prick likehimknock you up.”
Miranda’s mouth pops open to release a moan in response to my brutal pounds, but eventually, a handful of words slip out between her heavy breaths. “Roy… doesn’t… want… children.”
I grind my teeth together before forcing words between them. “Then why did he replace your birth control with placebos?”
She wiggles, demanding I stop.
There’s no fucking chance in hell of that happening. I held back my desires for months for that prick. I ain’t doing it again.
As I continue thrusting, shifting the concern on Miranda’s face to need, she slowly says, “I don’t know.”
Another handful of pumps.
Another husky sentence.
“But I promise it wasn’t for what you’re thinking.” She shivers through signs of an imminent orgasm before continuing. “For one, we’d need to have sex forthatto happen”—I stop punishing her for the foolhardiness of another when she adds—“and we’ve not done that in anextremelylong time.”
I slow the thrusts of my hips until they’re no longer manic, and then I slide my hand around her body to toy with her clit.
The swivels of my index finger and middle finger, and the flexes of my cock as I stretch her wide, switch the focus back to where it should have never deviated from.
It returns it to us.
A low, shallow groan rolls up my chest when Miranda’s moans remind me of the faint noises she releases when she is consuming something naughty. Before I entered her life with guns blazing—literally—it was only ever in the darkness of night and long after her husband went to bed.
“Mm.”
I doubt she knows she’s doing it. She is too self-conscious after years of abuse to openly express her desires, but they’re the noises I crave more than her screams.
They expose the true depth of her pleasure, and how they only ever sound now when I am near.
As our wild fuck soothes to lovemaking, Miranda’s little mewls pick up. They clutch at my throat as vigorously as her pussy clutches my cock.
Who knew something so simple could bring a man to his knees?
“I need you to come again,printsessa. I need you nice and wet to make my sperms’ swim effortless.”
“Nero…” Her husky delivery of my name makes her seem cautionary. Her body is on the opposite end of the spectrum. It stills for half a second before it shakes in the brilliance of a fire-sparking climax.
Miranda moans my name again, louder this time, as the tight clamps of her pussy set me off. I come with a roar, my cock throbbing as sperm rockets out of me.
Then I realize we’re not alone two seconds before Miranda.
18
NERO
“Iswear on my middle finger’s life, I didn’t see shit.” Eight nervously shifts from foot to foot, weakening the honesty of his statement.
He’s called Eight because he’s a fucking giant, often seeming closer to eight feet than seven, he was born in the eighth month of the year, his given name is August, and he has only eight fingers.
Eight swears one of his finger removals was an accident.
He won’t tell anyone about how he lost digit number two.
He has no reason to lie, but I appreciate his endeavor to pull me over the fence. “You were way too up in her business to get the slightest peek. Can’t say I blame you. Your girl isfine.”
