Seducing my Ex-husband back (Claire) novel Chapter 20

Chapter 20

RICHARD’S TORMENT

-RICHARD’S POV-

The garage door closes behind me. It makes a mechanical sound that seals me inside this concrete space.

Monica’s black Mercedes sits where it always does. It gleams under the bright lights like a dangerous animal at rest.

She’s home early for once.

I put my head against the steering wheel. I breathe out slowly. The leather feels cool against my skin, but it doesn’t calm the fire burning inside me.

Claire.

Her name keeps repeating in my head like a curse. I can’t stop thinking about her in my office today. That red dress hugged her body curves that used to be mine.

Her fingers wrapped around my tie like she owned me. Those brown eyes filled with dangerous confidence.

My body reacts right away. Blood rushes where it shouldn’t. I laugh, but the sound is bitter in this small space.

A grown man getting turned on by just a memory.

How pathetic.

I hate her for this. For making me feel like a teenager with no control. For walking back into my life and messing everything up

with one smile.

My investigator’s report sits in my briefcase. It’s proof that Claire is betraying me. Claire and Alexander Hayes are working together.

They’re planning something that will hurt my company, my reputation. They want to destroy me.

I should think clearly. I should plan my attack back. Instead, all I can think about is how she smelled. Different from before. Not the soft vanilla perfume she used to wear.

Something sharper now.

More dangerous.

When was the last time I had good sex? Real sex, not the boring routine Monica and I do when we have to. When was the last time I felt consumed by want instead of duty?

I know the answer. Three years ago. With Claire.

My body still betrays me. Still hard and aching. I grab my briefcase and force myself out of the car. The sooner I deal with this, the sooner I can think straight again.

The house feels like a tomb as I walk inside. Marble floors, crystal lights, everything cold and perfect and lifeless. My footsteps echo in the big entrance as I drop my briefcase by the door.

Then I see her.

Monica lies across the white leather couch like she’s posing for a magazine. She’s wearing one of my dress shirts. The shirt

barely covers her thighs.

Her legs are bare, pale, and smooth. One leg hangs over the arm of the couch in an intentional invitation.

I look at her body, taking in the deliberate display. But as I stare at her bare legs, another image appears in my mind.

1/5

Chapter 20

Claire’s legs in my office room Wrapped around my waist. Trembling as I….

“You’re home late,” Monica says without looking at me.

+15 Bonus

She swirls the amber liquid in her glass. I don’t answer. My throat feels too tight. My body is too wound up for casual talk

My dick twitched, heavy and traitorous, because even now, even with Claire’s laugh still echoing in my skull, my body didn’t give a shit about loyalty.

It just wanted.

Monica’s lips parted slightly, like she could sense the shift in the air, the way my breath hitched.

The shirt she wore…one of mine, probably…clung to the swell of her tits, the fabric so thin I could see the dark circles of her nipples through it.

Fuck.

I should’ve turned around.

Should’ve walked out, found some dive bar to drown in until the need bled out of me. But my feet moved forward on their own, eating up the space between us.

The couch groaned under my weight as I dropped to my knees in front of her, my hands already reaching, already taking.

Her glass tipped, amber liquid sloshing over the rim onto her thigh, but neither of us cared.

I grabbed her jaw, my fingers digging in just enough to make her gasp, and then my mouth was on hers.

She tasted like bourbon and sin.

Her lips were soft, but I didn’t kiss her soft.

I kissed her like I was trying to fuck the memory of Claire out of my system, my teeth knocking against hers, my tongue forcing its way past her lips.

She moaned into me,

her hands flying to my shoulders, nails scraping through my shirt. The sound went straight to my cock, thickening it painfully against my zipper.

I tore my mouth away just long enough to yank her shirt up, exposing her.. no bra, just bare skin and hard nipples, the kind that begged to be bitten.

So I did. I latched onto one, sucking hard, and she arched off the couch with a sharp cry, her fingers tangling in my hair.

“Richard…..”

I didn’t let her finish. Didn’t want to hear my name on her lips, not when the only one that mattered was still haunting me.

My hands found the waistband of her panties…..black lace, barely there–and I ripped them down her legs.

She didn’t stop me.

Just spread her thighs wider, her pussy already glistening, swollen. The sight of it made my vision blur for a second.

Mine. Not really.

But right now, it didn’t fucking matter.

I stood just long enough to shove my pants down, my cock springing free, angry and dark with blood. Monica’s eyes dropped to it, and her tongue wet her lower lip.

I didn’t give her time to tease. I grabbed her hips and flipped her onto her back, the couch cushions swallowing her with a soft

2/5

Chapter 20

+15 Bonus

whoosh.

Her legs wrapped around my waist before I even lined myself up, her heels digging into my ass, pulling me closer. I didn’t

bother with finesse.

Just gripped the base of my dick and slammed into her in one rough thrust.

She screamed. Not in pain–in relief.

Like she’d been waiting for this, for me to lose control, to stop pretending I gave a shit about anything but the tight, wet heat clamping around my cock.

I groaned, my head dropping forward, my forehead pressing against hers. She was so fucking tight, her walls fluttering around me, milking me already.

I should’ve gone slow. Should’ve made it last. But the second I pulled back and thrust again, my hips snapping forward, I knew I wasn’t going to.

“Fuck, yes,” Monica gasped, her nails raking down my back hard enough to draw blood.

“Just like that–harder, you bastard…..”

I gave her what she wanted. What I wanted. My hands found her wrists, pinning them above her head as I fucked her like I was trying to punish her.

Or maybe punish myself.

The couch creaked with every thrust, the sound obscene, wet, and slapping. Her tits bounced with the force of it, her skin flushed, her mouth open in these little broken moans that made my balls draw up tight.

Claire.

The name hit me like a bullet. I groaned, my rhythm stuttering for half a second before I forced myself deeper, my hips pistoning, my cock swelling.

Monica’s eyes flew open, her breath catching.

“What….?”

“Claire,” I growled, the word tearing out of me like a confession.

My grip on her wrists tightened, my fingers digging in until I knew there’d be bruises. Her pussy clenched around me, her back arching off the couch.

“You fucking….” Her voice broke into a moan as I hit that spot inside her, the one that made her eyes roll back.

“…..asshole.”

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. My vision was going white at the edges, my cock throbbing, my balls so tight it hurt.

I released one of her wrists to grab her hip, my fingers sinking into the soft flesh hard enough to leave marks.

The angle changed, my thrusts deeper, rougher.

The couch was sliding across the floor with the force of it, the wood groaning in protest.

Monica came with a sharp cry, her body locking up beneath me, her pussy pulsing around my cock like a fist.

The sensation pushed me over.

I buried myself to the hilt and came with a guttural sound, my release ripping through me, my cum flooding her in hot, thick

spurts.

3/5

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify