Her Reluctant Husband

a spot that sends tiny tremors through my whole body. I grip his hair, trying to hold on as he takes me harder, and my ass squeaks across the granite.
I’m on the verge of coming, the build is right there, but it fizzles when I hear his words in my ear coming from Alex’s mouth. “This is mine again, mine,” Alex growls lowly into my ear. “So fucking good and sweet.”
I freeze as visions of Deacon’s olive eyes shoot through my mind. Noo! Not now. I was so close. Why? Of all the things he could’ve said, why that?
Alex pulls back and runs his thumb down my cheek then across my lips. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah,” I mutter, gripping his hair tighter, as I try to burn out the image and focus on him.
“Then I’m going to need you to breathe and relax again because you have a death grip around my cock.”
“Oh,” I frown and look down between us.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” He presses his lips to my forehead, saying the words I needed to hear. The sincerity in his voice is what makes me believe him. My head falls to his shoulder and I relax. This is Alex. Alex.
“I mean unless you want me to.” I feel him smirk in my neck.
Asshole.
“Just shut up.” I place my hand over his mouth. His eyes glow wickedly, clear desire still shining behind them. I should run, but I still want this. “Just shut up and fuck me.” No more words.
"Don't have to tell me twice." He pulls me to him and lifts me into his arms off the counter. “Hold on.”
I wrap my arms around his shoulders and tighten my legs around him as he grabs my ass with both his hands. He picks me up a little bit and drops me on his dick. “Ahh,” I scream, curling my fingers in his hair, as he goes fucking deep inside of me with every thrust.
All the muscles in my stomach tighten, and my head falls back as I come. My body quivers as the intensity of the high vibrates through me. It’s everything. It’s a high I don’t want to come off of.
“That’s beautiful,” Alex groans, and then latches his lips to the side of my neck and slides me back onto the counter.
My arms fall around his shoulders and I lean back, feeling weightless as he continues to move. Every stroke sends off little aftershocks and I never thought sex could be this satisfying. I want to hold onto this moment forever.
Alex's grunts grow wilder as he sucks on my breasts and thrusts faster. "Fuck," he roars in my ear. I feel his warmth spill between my legs. He grabs the back of my neck and pulls me into a lingering kiss, his tongue sweeping over mine. I moan and let my nails scrape through his hair.
“Shit,” he mumbles and pulls away from me. He’s breathless as his eyes search mine. "You okay?” He runs his hand down my clammy shoulder.
“Uh-huh,” I mumble out.
I’ve only had two real mind-blowing orgasms in my life and they both were given to me by Alex. What I do alone doesn’t compare to what just happened. I can never relax or get into it like I do with him.
“That’s my kind of answer.” He slips out of me and moves across the kitchen.
He grabs the dish towel that’s wrapped over the oven door and cleans himself off and then comes over to me. He slowly and leisurely takes his time cleaning his remnants as I’m still catching my breath. He throws it to the ground, and I’ll never look at Liz’s Home sweet Home hand towel the same again.
Alex leans in and kisses me. “Thanks for that.”
“Thanks? Seriously?” I shove him away.
“What? Do you expect us to cuddle now?” He chuckles and moves to the fridge.
“No. Of course not. It was just a fuck.”
“Yeah.” He shrugs as he breaks open the lid on his water bottle. “Had to get it out of our systems.”
“Then I shouldn’t forget my place.”
I scoot off the counter and wish now I had something to cover myself with as I make my exit out of the room. I’m an idiot. Not that the hate sex, or whatever you might call that, wasn’t amazing, but I guess I had forgotten about the aftermath of feeling used. Nothing more than a hole to fuck.
At least Alex made me feel something. Made me come.
Fuck, did he make me come.
Asked if I was okay twice.
That means more than anything, but I can’t think too much into it. It was a one time thing.
The sun has gone down and the temperature in the house has cooled off noticeably, but I’m still boiling inside. It’s been hours since the kitchen incident and my emotions are mixed up with what I let happen. I let him use me, but at the same time, I liked it and wanted it. It was nothing like it was with him, so why does my mind keep trying to compare.
I’ve been spending the last ten minutes taking out my aggression on these cherry tomatoes as I cut them up to put into the pasta salad I’m making. I’ll never understand the logic of how cooking relaxes me when I don’t ever want to eat it. I love cooking more when I have someone else to do it for…even if the guy is a giant prick and doesn’t appreciate anything.
My luck, he’ll end up snubbing this like he did with the hot breakfast I made for him.
"You made dinner?" Alex says standing in the archway. I’m glad to see he’s dressed now, at least halfway, in only a pair of loose hanging basketball shorts. His hair is wet