CHAPTER 40: CHAPTER FORTY

Chapter forty

Malachi’s POV

Content Warning — From me:

You’re about to step inside my head.

It’s not gentle here. I think in hunger, not tenderness.

What you’ll read is possession, control, and the kind of desire that leaves marks.

If you stay, don’t expect mercy.

☆ ☆

Her legs, bare under that stupidly thin summer dress, were already hiked up around my waist like she belonged there. Like she knew.

I didn’t ask. Asking was for men like Travis. I just took. my mouth slammed down on hers, hard, swallowing her gasp of surprise. She tasted like juniper berries. Her back pressed flat against the cool wood. my body pinned her there, solid and unyielding. Felt the frantic flutter of her heart against my chest. Good. Let her feel trapped. Let her remember who really had the strength here.

my hands slid under the flimsy cotton hem of her dress. Skin met skin – smooth, warm thighs. Christ, she was soft. Softer than anything I ever touched. my calloused fingers scraped upwards, possessive, claiming territory Travis only got to touch with fucking permission slips. I squeezed the flesh high up, near the crease. Felt her flinch, then arch. A low groan rumbled out of me, muffled against her mouth. Fuck, she felt good. The damp heat radiating from between her legs, even through the barrier of my jeans and her pathetic lace panties, was an invitation he wouldn’t ignore.

I tore my mouth from hers, needing to see it. Needing to see the conflict in her eyes. Her head thudded back against the door. Eyes wide, pupils blown black with something raw. "Mal... Malachi... we... we can’t..." Her voice was weak sauce.

I laughed. A dark, humorless sound scraping my throat. "Can’t?" my teeth found the sweet spot below her ear. Bit down just enough to make her cry out and grind herself harder against the aching bulge in my jeans. Felt the wet spot she left behind. "Says who? Travis?" I spat the name like poison.

"You’re perfect."

I said. "Beautiful. Strong. A goddess I worship."

She was a goddess. MY goddess.

One hand fisted in her hair, not gentle, forcing her head back so she had to look me in the eye. Let her see the hunger, the contempt. "He ain’t here. Just us." My other hand slid back under her dress, fingers finding the soaked lace covering her core. I pressed hard against it, and felt the slickness drench the fabric. "And you want this. Feel that? Dripping for me already." Satisfaction surged through me. Travis’s wife. Wet for his brother.

Her whimper was pure surrender. I saw the exact moment her resistance cracked. The fight leaked out of her eyes, replaced by a dazed, desperate need that mirrored my own, only weaker. Pathetic. Delicious. "Please..." she breathed.

I knew what that please meant. Door be damned. I shifted, hoisting her higher against me with one arm locked around her waist. Her legs tightened reflexively. With my free hand, I yanked down the strap of her dress. Her breast spilled out, pale and perfect in the dim hall light. I dove down, took the tight peak into my mouth with greedy suction, biting just shy of pain. Her ragged cry echoed off the walls. Felt her nails clawing at my shoulders through my shirt. Not pushing away. Clinging.

I lifted my head, breathing hard. Her breast glistened from my mouth. Her eyes were wild, unfocused. "Door’s too fucking hard," I said.

I didn’t wait for an answer. I dumped her onto the silk duvet covering the bed. She bounced, blinking up at me, a tangle of limbs and rumpled dress and bare skin. One breast exposed, nipple hard. The dress shoved up around her waist. Legs sprawled open. Panties dark with arousal.

Predatory hunger tightened my gut. I braced a knee on the mattress beside her hip, looming over. "Look at you," I murmured, the triumph dark and sweet on my tongue. My hand slid up her inner thigh, fingers skating over the damp lace edge of her underwear. Travis’s wife, spread out and ready to be ruined by me. "Just waitin’ to be ruined."

I hooked two fingers into the flimsy lace at her hip and ripped them down her legs. The tearing sound was loud. She gasped, trying to clamp her legs shut. Fucking adorable. I slapped a hand on each inner thigh, pinning them wide open, exposing her completely to my gaze.

There it was. Her wet core. Puffy lips glistening with wetness in the low light. Completely bare to me. Utterly vulnerable. Possession roared through my blood. "Malachi..." she breathed, a ragged plea.

I didn’t speak. Just drank in the sight. my cock throbbed painfully against my zipper. Time to take what was owed. I shoved my jeans and boxers down just enough, freeing himself. Hard as iron, flushed dark at the tip where pre-cum was. I knelt between her spread thighs, pushing them wider apart.

Positioning myself at her entrance was instinctive. Blunt head slick with her arousal pressed against slicker heat. I paused for a second, meeting her gaze. Saw the flicker of fear beneath the drunken haze. Good. She should be scared.

"Still with me?" my voice was guttural.

Her answer wasn’t words. Her hips lifted off the bed towards me, seeking me out before her mind could catch up. A broken moan slipped out – "Yes... god... please..." – thick and clumsy and perfect.

I thrust forward. Hard. Deep. One relentless surge burying myself to the hilt inside her tight, wet heat.

She cried out—sharp, shocked— but I felt her inner muscles clench around me like a hot fist. Fuck! Tighter than I’d imagined. I groaned, a raw sound ripped from my chest as I bottomed out, hips flush against hers, letting her feel every straining inch of me buried deep where she belonged.

"Fuck," I hissed through clenched teeth, savoring the incredible pressure. "Tight... so fucking tight... like a goddamn vise."

I pulled back almost all the way, leaving just the head inside her stretched entrance before slamming back in with brutal force. Wet slap of skin on skin filled the room. Her gasp turned into another cry as he set a punishing rhythm— deep, hard strokes designed to claim, to punish, to possess.

Her hands scrabbled at my back, nails digging in sharp little points of pain that only spurred me on. She arched beneath me with every thrust, whimpers and gasps falling from her swollen lips — "Ah! Ah! God! Malachi!" Music to my fucking ears.

I fucked her with single-minded intensity, driving into her like I was trying to reach her spine. The bedframe protested with each powerful thrust of my hips against hers. Sweat slicked my brow, dripped onto her chest.

One hand left her thigh to roughly grab her bared breast, squeezing hard before pinching her nipple sharply. She arched violently off the bed, a sharp cry tearing loose. Satisfaction burned through me.

"Knew you were like this," I grunted, pistoning relentlessly into her slick heat. "Underneath all that... fucking... good girl shit..." Each word punctuated by a deep, driving thrust that pushed her further into her.

Her hips lifted frantically now to meet my downward drives. She was chasing it too, that peak I could feel tightening in her belly through the connection where they joined. Her body was betraying Travis just like her wet core was betraying her weak protests.

I found the swollen bud above her entrance with my thumb and pressed down hard in rough circles.

She shattered.

A scream ripped from her throat as her orgasm exploded through her body. Her back arched off the bed, every muscle locking tight as spasms wracked her inner walls around my thrusting cock. Fuck! The sudden violent clenching almost pulled me over the edge right then. Her pussy clamped down on me like a wet, greedy fist, milking me relentlessly.

"Shit! Fuck!" I snarled as she convulsed beneath me. My control snapped. My thrusts became jerky, losing all rhythm in a desperate drive for my own release. Short, hard snaps of my hips burying me impossibly deep each time.

I slammed home one final time with a guttural roar that scraped my throat raw and held himself there as he erupted deep inside her convulsing core. Hot pulses shot into her tight heat as her muscles still fluttered around me, milking every last drop from me in rhythmic clenches that felt like pure fucking ownership.

my weight collapsed onto her then, crushing her into the rumpled silk sheets, my face buried in the sweaty crook of her neck where her pulse hammered against my lips. He breathed in the stink of sex and sweat.

my breath rasped harshly in my ears, mingling with hers and the frantic drumbeat of my own heart slowing down. Spent. Utterly spent and buried deep inside my brother’s wife.