The night I found out who I really had in my bed, I went home and handed her the file, and without a word, she went to the bedroom and began to pack.
Angry would not be an accurate representation of the emotion I was feeling. I could have killed her. I actually thought about killing her. Then I thought about the way I could really hurt her. Her father had passed away a few years before, leaving her alone since her mother was in a special hospital in upstate New York. My dear wife was on her own.
I was her only source of income since she didn’t work. She was a typical Upper East Side wife. Her boyfriend was a banker who lived in an apartment in the Bronx. His net income was around sixty thousand a year. Her lifestyle would take a drastic change, and she would never get shit from me. I had enough evidence against her that I didn’t need to worry about her. Even the best divorce attorney in the world wouldn’t have been able to force me to give her one penny.
It took six months to get my divorce finalized. Lynda tried to fight me, but in the end, she wasn’t able to get one red dime and her boyfriend dumped her. I learned later that he’d had no idea she was married and hadn’t taken kindly to her using him to cheat on another man…
A knock on the door brings me out of my thoughts about the past, and I’m just about to yell for them to go away when the door is swung open and Maxine walks in without even waiting for me to reply.
“Get the fuck out!” I roar, causing Chloe, who had fallen asleep on top of me, to jump in her sleep. I quickly pull the covers over us. I don’t give a fuck about me, but I don’t want anyone—even a woman—to see Chloe like she is now.
“Sorry,” I hear whispered as the door quickly closes.
“What’s wrong?” Chloe mumbles sleepy, raising her head to look at me.
“Nothing. Go back to sleep, love,” I say quietly, kissing her forehead.
She sighs and closes her eyes, laying her head back down. Once I hear her breath even out, I slide out from under her and make sure she’s covered before pulling on a pair of pajama pants, grabbing my cell phone, and heading for the main living room.
“What did you need, Maxine?” I ask as soon as my assistant answers the phone.
“Sorry, sir. I thought you would want to know your conference call with Japan got canceled. I tried phoning you, but it went straight to voicemail.”
“Maxine, I don’t care if the world outside my bedroom door is imploding upon itself. When that door is closed, you do not ever open it,” I growl into the phone.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was there,” she says, but even in her tone, I can hear bitterness.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Maxine, I expect the keys you have for my loft to be returned tomorrow. You will no longer be allowed into the building. I understand you have a job to do, but you will no longer have the access you had before.”
“Sir!” she gasps, and I shake my head, looking out at the city below me.
“This isn’t the first time you’ve overstepped your bounds, but this will be the last,” I tell her firmly.
“I apologized,” she whispers.
“And that is the only reason you still have a job,” I state before hanging up the phone.
I press my forehead to the glass and look out at the street below. Then I feel a small hand on my back slide around to my chest as Chloe’s cheek presses into my skin.
“Are you okay?” she whispers as I cover her small hand with mine before turning around and looking down at her.
She’s wearing the white dress shirt I had on earlier in the evening—only one button is in place, holding it together. Her hair is down around her shoulders, and her face is clean of any makeup. Just looking at her makes my breath catch in my throat.
“Better now,” I grunt out as my fingers slide into the open top of the shirt and down around her nipple.
A small whimper leaves her mouth as her eyes slide closed.
“My beautiful angel,” I whisper, dropping my mouth to hers, forcing my tongue between her lips.
When her small hand falls against my chest, I drop my hands to the back of her legs and pick her up, lifting her and wrapping her thighs around my waist. I turn and press her back to the window, my hips firmly between her legs, giving me leverage to use my hands to remove my shirt from her.
She cries out from the cold of the glass, and goose bumps breakout over her skin. Her nails tear against the skin of my shoulders as I lift her higher, pulling her breast into my mouth. I feel pre-cum pearl at the head of my cock, and the slick heat of her arousal between her legs rubs against my lower stomach. I want to lift her up and wrap her legs around my face while burying my tongue deep inside her. The fact that she was innocent before me only makes fucking her and eating her that much more intoxicating. Knowing that the only come to have ever filled her pussy is mine is extraordinary.
“I can feel your juices all over my stomach. Do you want me to eat you, Beautiful? Or do you want my cock deep inside your soaking-wet pussy?” I ask her as her fingers dig into my hair.
My brain is racing. One part of me wants to consume her, and the other part of me wants to lower my pants and slide inside her. The side of me that’s been trying to breed her wins out, so I use one hand to push down the front of my pants. Then I wrap my hand around my girth while pulling her forward and down, filling her until the head of my cock bumps against her cervix.
I watch her eyes roll back and her head fall against the window behind her. I slowly slide out then back in with deep, smooth, long strokes, enjoying every inch of her pussy rippling around me. She was made for me, her pussy built to be taken by me alone.