MAVERICK
He destroyed the idea of fucking in my head. He showed me what it was like to be thoroughly fucked.
Every part of my body was sore, yet I had a smile of bliss on my face. After he was satisfied with what he had done to me, he got up from bed and went to the bathroom. He put on his sweatpants and went out of the room.
I might have fallen asleep. His side of the bed was still empty. I slid off the bed and stretched my body before I used the bathroom. Now I felt how sore I was—it was everywhere, between my thighs, my limbs, my breasts, even on my shoulder where he bit me. I could still see the mark of his teeth. It wasn’t enough to bleed, but it still stung.
I went downstairs, looking for him, but he was not in the living room or the kitchen. The door to his study was slightly open, and the light was on. Before I could get in, I heard his voice. He must be talking with someone on the phone.
My curiosity kicked in. I hid behind the wall and eavesdropped.
“No. That’s not the plan. I won’t come back until he retires.” He must be talking about his father and the board meeting.
“Divorce her.” What was he talking about?