Married to the Bad Boy(28)
She takes my face in her hands and bites down on her lip viciously. “Please let me stay the night.”
There’s a tugging feeling in my chest that I despise. She runs her thumb over the stubble on my jaw and pleads me with her eyes. I think about those bruises on her neck.
“Why?”
Let her fucking stay!
Elena shakes her head violently. “I just need to stay here for one night. Just let me stay here, and I swear I’ll never bother you again if that’s what you want.”
The red flags are in flames.
The sweetness evaporates from my voice. “All right. I don’t usually do this, but I’ll let you stay so long as you don’t give me drama in the morning.”
She flinches from the coldness in my voice, but nods gratefully.
“Thank you.”
The warmth from her body disappears as she gets up from my lap and pads to the entrance to gather her clothes, and I hate the sting of cold from her absence. Blood pounds in my head as I go back inside my bedroom and pick a pair of boxers. The nagging feeling grows as I brush my teeth in the bathroom.
She’ll give me a hard time in the morning. I just know it. She’ll cry. She’ll moan. She’ll complain.
Fucking idiot. Shouldn’t have told her she could stay.
The mattress sinks as I sit down and wait for her to come inside. Ten minutes later I stand up with a growl and search for her. What the fuck is she doing?
Then I see her body curled up on the couch, trembling from the cold.
What a fucking asshole you are, Tony.
It hits my gut, seeing her like that. She thinks I want her on the couch, that she’s not good enough for my bed. That couldn’t be further from the truth. I just don’t want attachments. My shirtless reflection glares at me from the glass window, and I fix my expression, walking toward the curled-up girl. She stiffens when I lay my hand on her head.
“Come.”
“It’s okay,” she says in a reedy voice. “I’m fine.”
“Come.”
My mother didn’t raise me to be an asshole to girls. I take her hand and she follows me into the bedroom. I crawl under the sheets, and she follows swiftly, adding her warmth to my king-sized bed.
“Thanks, Tony.”
Don’t thank me.
I don’t want to feel anything for her. That’s the whole fucking point of my “one night” rule. I turn my back on my guilt and shut the light, imagining the grateful smile on her face in the dark.
* * *
A soft feeling on my cheek, and then lips kissing my eyes open.
It’s peaceful. Beautiful. Then I look directly into her dark eyes, slightly creased with sadness.
The warmth in my chest disappears and I adjust myself under the sheets, noticing with a delayed fog that her naked tits press into my chest. My cock wakes up sharply and my eyes flare open. From the look on her face, she isn’t wearing anything else.
Well, that’s one way to wake up.
“Bonjour, mademoiselle.”
“Hi.” Elena’s lips seal against mine as her hand anchors over my cock. It stiffens almost immediately, and Elena pulls back, smirking.
“I didn’t fuck you hard enough last night?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
My mouth gapes open slightly as I feel heat rolling from her body. She’s not lying—I can feel her wetness when I curl my hand between her thighs. It comes back soaking.
I just can’t let her leave unsatisfied.
Fuck yes.
My body rolls to the side and I yank open the nightstand drawer, fishing for a condom. Using my teeth, I tear it open and roll it over my rock-hard cock. No frills. Just a quick, hard fuck. She wraps her legs around me and gasps as I fuck her pussy, hammering her hard until she clutches my shoulders, screaming. It’s different when you can see their faces clearly in the daylight. Every vulnerability is laid out in the open for me, and Elena bares it all. She doesn’t hide.
Her back arches, thrusting her tits into my chest as I bury myself as deep as I can. If I could fuck every feeling away, I would. Then my legs shudder and I groan into her neck as her pussy clenches over my cock. She digs her nails into my scalp and then sinks into the sheets as the orgasm wipes every worry from her face.
I collapse beside her, breathing hard. My dick is fucking sore, and for once I’m not in a hurry to make her leave. I’m just exhausted. She curls next to me, her arm splayed across my chest.
It’s a nice view. Christ, she’ll be masturbation material for a long time.
The events of last night slide over my eyes like a highly graphic porn video, and I smile to myself as I stroke her back lightly. Then I remember her tears when I asked her to leave and the smile disappears. She nearly begged me to stay the night. Why?