Page 256 of Breeding Her: The Red Flag Edition
Smart girl.
I delivered two more. Harder. Controlled. Precise. Each one landing just below the last—layering heat over sting. I was punishing her, yes, but not just her.
I was punishing the ghost of my ex-wife.
I thought the anger had faded, thought I’d buried it with the divorce and that final fucking letter. But here it was—boiling in my veins, rising behind my teeth.
The lies. The manipulation. The weakness in me that ever believed her.
I beat it all out—onto Everly’s perfect fucking ass.
“You knew what that would do to me,” I bit out. “Lying there. Playing with yourself. Acting like I wouldn’t fucking find out.”
She gasped at the next hit, arching with a shudder. Her thighs trembled.
She was soaked. I could smell it.
“I’m not your goddamn toy, Everly.”
But I was. We both knew it. I’d feed her my cock day or night.
And when she moaned again, soft and low, I lost whatever was left of my restraint.
“Time to feed your greedy little pussy,” I growled, dropping the belt and unzipping my trousers. “Maybe next time, you’ll think twice before touching yourself without permission. Then again—maybe you won’t.”
She wiggled her ass at me like a fucking invitation, but I couldn't stop my grin or the happiness my girl brought me.
I teased her with the swollen head of my cock, dragging it through the slick mess she’d made of herself—coating every inch in her arousal. Letting her feel exactly what she’d done to me.
“Please,” she whispered, trying to grind back, desperate to rub herself on me.
“That’s it, toy. Beg for it,” I rasped, sliding along her slit.
Up and down. Slow, cruel and deliberate.
Just to hear her whimper.
“Please fuck me, Silas. I’ve been waiting all damn day,” she sobbed when I rubbed faster. “I don’t even have a stupid vibrator.”
I froze mid-thrust. Her words echoed, and something twisted in my chest.
No vibrator?
The irritation vanished—replaced by a sharper, uglier feeling.
I’d been jealous of a fucking toy.
Goddammit.
I pressed my cock to her entrance, the heat of her slick teasing me just enough to make my jaw clench.
“Thank fuck,” I muttered, thrusting forward as she moaned.
“Oh, yes,” she choked out.
I gripped her waist, plunging deeper into her tight, wet hole.
Yes. This—this was what had consumed me through meetings, haunted me at lunch, distracted me in the car. Everly’s tight holes. Her greedy cunt. Her perfect little arsehole.
