“Fuck!” I kick my shoes away and run to the pool.
Where Gwyneth just jumped in because she wasn’t thinking and she’s drunk as fuck. If she had access to her brain, she would’ve remembered that she doesn’t know how to swim.
She’s the type who always has some sort of a crutch, even when she’s in the shallow end of the pool. No matter how much King tried to teach her, she never learned to swim.
The seconds tick by like a damn lifetime the more she doesn’t resurface. She’s not even flailing around like she usually does when the crutches are taken away.
I curse under my breath as I plunge in after her, diving deep into the cold water.
The more time I spend getting to her, the harder my fucking heart beats. It doesn’t slow down even after I grab her by the arm and haul her to the surface. She splutters for breath, coughing and choking on water.
Her legs circle my waist and she uses me as a lifeline. Her entire body is wrapped around mine as I swim to where I can stand.
I grab her by the shoulders, shaking her. “What the fuck were you thinking just now?”
“I…wasn’t thinking…”
“Why the fuck weren’t you thinking? Do you want to die? Is that it, Gwyneth?”
“No, it’s just…”
“It’s just what?”
“It burned. I only wanted it to stop burning,” she slurs, blinking away the water from those fucking eyes. They’re bluer now, reflecting the surface of the water.
“What burned?”
“Everything.” Her shoulders slump in my hold. “I thought the water would fix it.”
“The water you don’t know how to swim in.”
“Oh.”
“Right. Fucking oh. What would’ve happened if I hadn’t been here?”
She flinches but says nothing.
“Answer me. What the fuck would’ve happened if you’d been on your own, Gwyneth?”
“I…would’ve drowned.”
Her softly-spoken words stab me in the fucking chest and I have to close my eyes for a second to chase away their impact. The thought of her drowning, gurgling and choking on water with no one to save her is like the monster I feared as a kid.
Turns out that monsters can show up at any time in your life. I just never thought that this damn woman would be the cause of it.
And then as I open my eyes and look at her bloodshot ones and the strands of her hair sticking to her face and neck, I realize it’s not only about the possibility of her drowning.
It’s about her being hurt in any way and my not being there.
It’d kill me.
Even if I’m mad at her, even if I’m still seeing red from when I caught her drunk and grinding against two guys. Fucking two.
All my self-control was used up at that moment, because if it were up to me, I would’ve claimed her in front of them and showed the world who she belongs to.
I would’ve fucked her in front of them, then blinded their fucking eyes.
But that anger and violent possessiveness are nothing compared to the fear that she could’ve died if she’d been here all alone.
That her reckless behavior I once thought was adorable could’ve taken her away from me.
“That’s right. You would’ve fucking drowned.” I dig the pads of my fingers into her shoulders. “This nonsense will never be repeated. Understand?”
“Okay.”
“And you’re not drinking again until you’re twenty-one, and you know the meaning of drinking responsibly.”
A delicate frown etches in her forehead and she slurs, “Stop talking to me as if I’m a kid. I hate that.”
“Then don’t act like one. And for the last goddamned time, answer your phone when I call you.”
She bites her lower lip but doesn’t say anything.
“I mean it, Gwyneth. You can’t disappear without notice again.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why?”
“Why would you care whether I disappear or not? Whether I answer your calls or not?”
I grind my jaw, but before I can say anything, she tightens her legs that are wrapped around my waist. “Is it because you’re my husband?”
“Yes.”
“You told Chris and Alex that. You said you’re my husband and I’m your wife.”
“You are.” I never thought I would like saying those words out loud, but there was a weight that lifted off my chest the moment that statement was out in the open.
“And you care about me.”
“I do.”
“Like your wife or like your best friend’s daughter?”
“Both.”
She scrunches her nose at that, but she plants a palm on my cheek. “But it’s only sex, so I’m, like, your trophy wife.”
“You can’t be my trophy wife when you own as much as I do, Gwyneth.”
“True. But it’s still just sex.”
I don’t say anything, but I don’t need to, because there’s something other than water glistening in her gaze and the gray is warring with the green and the blue, slaughtering them to take complete control.
She releases my waist and I think she’ll make the short trip to the edge of the pool, but she dives underwater.
Is she going to be reckless again? Gwyneth and alcohol are clearly not the best of friends and I need to keep her far away from it in the future.
Just when I’m about to go under and shake the fuck out of her, she grabs my hips with both hands and unbuckles my belt.
What the…?
My dick, that’s been semi-hard since she dry-humped me in the car, thickens and hardens when she frees it with her tiny hands. Then she’s on the surface again, holding on to my shirt.
The water contrasts against her pale skin, the rosy tips of her tits hardening. I grab one of them and squeeze, making her moan.
“What are you doing, Gwyneth?”
She wraps her arms around my neck, using the water to lift herself up so that she’s at my eye level. “Fuck me, husband.”
My muscles tighten and my nostrils flare at her sure yet playful tone.
“You’re drunk, wife.”
“I can take you.”
“Are you sure you can fit my cock up that tight pussy? Last time, you said it was too big.”
“It’s okay if it hurts a little. I like it.” She wiggles around, pressing her tits against my chest. “Fuck me and make it hurt.”
“Why do you want it to hurt?”
“Because it means you’re giving me your all. And I’ll take it.” There’s a challenge in her eyes, a pure fucking fire that’s blazing in the middle of the water.
“You’ll take what?”
“Everything you have to offer and everything you don’t.”
My fingers dig into the flesh of her hipbone and it’s neither gentle nor soft. It’s rough and unapologetic because the challenge in her words is still burning and has to be put out.
“You need to learn your fucking place, Gwyneth.”
She runs her fingers through my hair and murmurs against my ear, “Make me.”
I back her up against the wall of the pool and she gasps when her back hits it.
“Are we going to have sex now?” Her voice is a bit low, but it’s sultry and throaty.
“We’re not going to have sex. I’m going to fuck you, wife.”
Placing both hands under her ass cheeks, I part them and lift her up, then bring her down until I’m fully inside her. In one fucking go.
She whimpers, shaking around my length as her cunt clenches, swallowing me in.
“See? You can’t take me.”
“I can…” she whispers.
“How about this?” I start rocking and thrusting into her with minimum lubrication due to the water. Then I part her ass wider, giving my dick more access so that I’m in her deeper than before.
“Oh, fuck…” Her head rolls back.
“Language.”
“But I…uh…it feels so good.” She rocks her hips, thrusting her tits in my face and I suck a nipple into my mouth, nibbling on it until she’s trembling and her incoherent noises of pleasure echo in the air.
Seeing her so pleased, so lost and unable to take the onslaught of sensations is the most gratifying thing I’ve ever experienced.
Her nails sink into my shoulder blades as she holds on to me for dear life when I pick up my pace. I release her nipple and bite on the creamy skin of her breasts, causing her to cry out and dig the heels of her feet into my ass.
My lips, tongue, and teeth take a journey up her breasts and neck, leaving giant red marks behind. Then I hold her ass with one hand and grab a fistful of her hair, pulling her back to feast on the sensitive flesh of her pulse point. I devour her and leave the biggest mark of all. The one people will see and know that she fucking belongs to me.
I marked her. I claimed her. She’s mine.
After I release her hair, I grab two handfuls of her ass, squeezing. “Is this hard enough for you, baby girl?”
“More.” She’s panting, rolling her hips to meet mine and partially failing. “Please…I want more.”
I thrust up her tight channel, pull almost all the way out, and drive back in again. Then I lift her up so she nearly lets me go and bring her down on my length. She moans, then whimpers and holds on to me with all her might.
“Does that mean I shouldn’t take it easy on you?”
“No. Don’t. I like it this way.”
“What way?”
“Rough. Out of control.” Her eyes shine with tears. “I like you out of control.”
That makes me lose all my inhibitions and I drive into her with a speed that makes her bounce, her tits temptingly close, so I take one of them in my mouth and nibble and suck. I make her writhe and shake so hard that there are waves around us due to our explosive joining.
Still parting her ass cheeks, I slip my thumb inside the opening and speak against her nipple. “I will claim this ass soon, baby girl, and it’s going to be filthy and dirty. It’s going to hurt, too. Worse than when my dick made your pussy bleed.”
“Yes…please…” She strangles me, her cunt choking me as she comes undone.
There are masterpieces and then there’s Gwyneth’s face when she’s having an orgasm. Her head rolls back and the darkest of greens overwhelm her irises as her eyes droop and her skin flushes red. She trembles, her whole body going into a shock reaction as a translation of the sensations plaguing her body.
Her lips drop open, begging for something to be in them or on them. Like my own lips.
It takes everything in me not to give into the urge. A fucking dangerous one at that, and so I fuck her harder instead, pushing my thumb all the way into her ass until her tight ring of muscles swallows it and she’s full of me.
Until I’m the only one she can see, think of, or feel.
Only me.
“You’re not going to go around boys again, do you understand?”
“Yes, yes…” she chants, her nails dragging down my back and bicep muscles.
“No one will touch you but me.”
“Mmm…yes!”
“Now, say it.”
“No one will touch me but you.”
“Because you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.”
Those words and her overwhelming heat lure my own orgasm and I crush her to me, attempting to pull out.
Because I didn’t use a fucking condom. Again.
A part of me wants to fill her with my cum and my baby, but that part is a fucking asshole. She’s still so young and there’s no way in hell I’m making her relive her mother’s story.
“I-I’m on the…shot…” she pants, sinking her nails into my shoulders and her feet into my ass. “D-don’t pull out. I want to feel it.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I curse as I come inside her long and deep until my balls are spent.
We’re both breathing heavily with my thumb and cock inside her and my mouth on her nipple.
Gwyneth stares down at me and the fire that I meant to quench is still there, alive and fucking determined.
She has the type of fire that can’t be put out by water. If anything, it’s out to evaporate the water.
And that fire is now directed at me.
I release her nipple after one last bite that causes her to moan. Then her fingers are sliding up and down the back of my neck. “Hey, husband.”
“What, wife?”
“I think we should have sex again in the shower.”
“You mean I should fuck you?”
“Yeah, that.” She grabs a handful of my hair and runs her fingers through it. “I love it when you do that. Fuck me.”
“Then I’ll keep doing it until you’re satisfied.”
“What if I never am?”
“Then I’ll up my pace.”
Her eyes shine bright at that. “You will?”
“Whatever you like, wife.”
“I don’t think you’d do what I really like.” Her shoulders hunch, but she gives me a mischievous, contemplative smile that’s filled with her earlier fire, the fire that refuses to be put out. “Yet.”
Fuck.
This woman will really be the death of me, won’t she?
Not only did I let exceptions creep in because of her, but now, my brain is also bringing up the questions I never wanted to be answered.
The what-if kind.
