Page 45 of Don't Hate Me
I heard the shower go on in the bathroom. We’d rented a hotel room and would stay the night, then fly back tomorrow to face whatever consequences were waiting for us.
I assumed Landen would fire me. That was fine. I already had interviews lined up next week at other investment firms. Ash would stay with me at the apartment in Brooklyn until we found something better.
Given that Sanderson had hit her over something as inconsequential as not attending the opera with him, I wasn’t going to risk what he’d do to her for this rebellion. Which meant she was leaving everything she had behind.
She was fine with that.
I folded the certificate in half and tucked it in a pocket inside my suitcase. Then I stood and started taking off my clothes.
My wife was naked in the shower and it had been months since I’d had her. This was going to feel so damn good. I considered the condom I had in my wallet. I didn’t want to wear it. Because I knew what Ash felt like without it. Because the thought of knocking her up, tying her to me permanently, sounded like an amazing idea.
Then I shook my head and extracted it from my wallet anyway. Because this wasn’t my decision alone. It was hers, too. I walked to the bathroom door and opened it without knocking. I pushed back the shower curtain and Ash didn’t startle at all.
“I was waiting for you,” she said.
“I came.” I held up the condom. “Do we need it?”
She shook her head. “I recently went on birth control. I didn’t know if he would try something. I wanted to be prepared.”
She didn’t know if Sanderson might try to rape her. I closed my eyes against the surge of rage I felt, then clamped down on it. Ash hadn’t told me she was being forced into her situation. She hadn’t told me she feared getting raped by that asshole.
I looked at her, furious with her, even though I knew she was the victim.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I should have.” She nodded. “I should have told you. I didn’t know if you were ready yet. But that was wrong. I knew you would have stepped in, if you knew how bad it was. But truly, I didn’t know how bad it was until the other night.”
I tossed the condom into the trash.
“Move over,” I said, pushing her in the shower. “I want to anger fuck my wife.”
She pressed herself against the back of the shower. “I actually read about that, and anger fucking is a real thing. It’s supposed to be super intense. Except every time we’re together, it’s like that. Intense, I mean. Not always angry.
I braced my arms on either side of her head, pinning her against the wall and letting the water spray against my back. I let it drench me while I protected her. She glanced down and must have seen how hard I was. I simply thought of her and it happened. I remembered a sigh, a touch, a smell from our time together, and it happened. I’d gone months without sex, but the worst part of that was I hadn’t even wanted it. Hadn’t craved it or felt frustrated in denying myself.
More like I felt castrated. Like she was the link to my sexual self.
I turned her around and bent her until she was almost in half. Using her hands to brace herself against the wall. I ran my hands down her back and reveled in the shape of her. Her narrow shoulders that seemed to hold so much. Her delicate ribs that contained the lungs that sometimes failed her. Her tiny waist I could almost span with my hands.
“You’ve lost so much weight,” I muttered, not liking the idea of her becoming any more frail. She needed to be strong if she was going to face whatever was our future. Her father’s wrath. Whatever punishment Evan might dole out. Both she and George made it sound like the wealthy had powers mere mortals couldn’t imagine, but I’d spent enough time around them to know they were also people. Human people with weaknesses like anybody else.
And a weakness could always be exploited.
She didn’t answer me. She just wiggled her bottom in my direction and arched her back. I cupped her ass cheeks in my hands, then dropped one hand lower to explore her pussy. So I could feel how slick she was inside.
Hot, wet and waiting for me. I remembered the feeling of being bare inside her like I remembered my last breath. Only this time, I was going to come inside her. This time I was going to know what it truly meant to complete the act.
Without another word I angled my dick until it was pressed up against her, then, with a heavy lunge, I was balls-deep inside her.
She croaked out a moan and I paused. “Too much?”
She shook her head and pushed back against me as if to take me deeper. I liked that idea. I liked the idea of just standing here buried inside her and making her do all the work. Working herself against me, fucking me. But I knew that would only end in frustration for her. I cupped my hands underneath her chest and tugged on her nipples. Again, her back arched and the angle made my next thrust so smooth, so deep, she gasped.
“You feel so good,” she cried.
“Good?” I muttered, twisting the hard points in my fingers a little harder than I should have. “Not angry? Because I am. So. Fucking. Angry. With. You.”
Each word said with a snap of my hips. Hard. Short. Powerful. I felt her body shake underneath me, lifting herself on the balls of her feet to absorb each thrust.
