Page 61 of Dice & Dekes

She groans into the sheets. “If it will make you shut up and fuck me, then yes, I—oh!” I thrust into her, and every tense muscle in her body seems to melt. If I wasn’t holding onto her, she’d slide right off the side of the mattress.

The second I’m inside her, my vision whites out at the edges. I have to bite down on the inside of my cheek to keep from telling her I love her.

I fuck her like she’s mine—because she is. I fuck her like she’s already wearing my name on her soul. I fuck her like I need her to remember this the next time she tries to leave me.

“You feel that?” I growl into her ear. “That stretch? That sting? That’s me, babe. That’s what you needed. You just didn’t want to admit it.”

Moving steadily, I use the strength of my hips as well as the strength of my arms around her middle for leverage.

Sometimes I wonder if the only thing Knova knows how to do is fight, but she doesn’t fight me now. She relaxes into my touch, moaning and panting as I claim her.

Given that I’m a little preoccupied with keeping us both upright, still mostly dressed and not at the most ideal angle for this activity, I can’t reach her clit. “Touch yourself, brat,” I urge.

Knova shifts in my arms until she can maneuver one hand between her legs. She arches her back to meet me, allowing me deeper, and I redouble the enthusiastic motion of my hips.

“You’ve gotten off on this before, haven’t you?” I ask. “You’ve touched yourself while you imagined how I would feel inside you.”

With a sudden cry, Knova tenses around me. The shock of her orgasm catches me off guard. My own hips stutter, and then I come and come and come with her tight cunt fluttering around me.

I press my face into her hair. “You can stop being mean to me now, Knova.” My thoughts are so jumbled right now, I can’t think clearly. I want more. I want her. I want to undress her and make love to her and fall asleep with her head on my shoulder.

I want to fix whatever went wrong earlier tonight. The problem is, I have no idea where to start.

But if I reach for her now, she might bolt. If I try to hold her too close, she’ll wriggle free. So I stay still. I stay quiet.

And I pray—for once in my life—that what I just gave her was enough to make her stay.

Chapter Fifteen

Knova

I wake up early and make a beeline for the shower. Viktor’s still out like a light, which is for the best. The sex was great. Talking would be… less great. Because if he’s lying, I’ll feel like a fool. But if he’s not? If I’ve been punishing him for something he didn’t do? Then I’m not just the villain in this story—I’m the worst kind. The kind that refuses to admit when she’s wrong.

I feel like I screwed up somehow, even though he’s the one sneaking around behind my back. He has no right to be hurt by my behavior.

Unless I’m wrong about where he went last Saturday. But he had to be up to something, right? Or else he’d just tell me. Even if it’s not a clandestine affair, it’s got to be something. I remember the rumors about Viktor in high school. After our failed almost-date, people gossiped about him taking pills. Damn it, is my husband a drug mule? He doesn’t strike me as the type, but maybe that’s what makes him successful. I’ve seenBreaking Badon vintage Netflix. Maybe he’s like the scary guy who runs the fried chicken place, except instead of being a quiet, ominous man who hawks meth, he’s a boisterous goofball who peddles uppers.

If I keep thinking like this, I am going to drive myself up the wall. To clear my head, I take a quick, ice-cold shower and get dressed as quietly as possible. I’m on my way to the kitchen in search of some much-needed coffee when my phone buzzes. Knight’s photo pops up on the screen.

“Yo,” I bark into the receiver as I paw through the cupboard in search of life-giving caffeine.

“Good morning, Knova. Want to get breakfast with me?”

I close the cupboard. “Are you buying?”

“Sure. Meet outside in five? Looks like you’re ready to go, but I’m guessing you’ll need to grab shoes.”

I turn on the spot, looking out across the kitchen island, over the sofas to the windows facing the street. I can see my brother standing at his window, staring at me.

“Dude, that’s so fucking creepy,” I groan.

“If you hate it so much, buy curtains.”

“You buy curtains.”

“Compromise: we will both buy curtains.”

“Compromise accepted, perv. See you outside in five.”

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