Her Billionaire Ex-husband's Regret

Where’s the presentation file?!” Adrian’s voice thundered through the phone.

I froze in the kitchen, a half-cut onion in my hand.

“You told me this morning you didn’t need it,” I whispered.

“So now you’re arguing? You’re useless. If you can’t do anything else, at least learn to obey. Bring me the files now, or you’ll regret it.” He hung up.

My hands trembled as I grabbed the folder from the table. Five years of marriage, and I was still scared every time he raised his voice. He had been snapping at me for months. I kept telling myself it was the stress from work.

I grabbed the briefcase with the folder and rushed out. Rain came down hard, soaking me as I caught bus after bus to reach his office.

Adrian Cole was one of the richest men in Norchester. People respected him in public, but at home, his words cut me to pieces.

The guards at the gate looked me over.

“What’s she doing here again?” one muttered.

“Her face could haunt your dreams,” the other said.

I lowered my head and kept walking.

The office went quiet the moment I walked in, dripping water onto the floor.

“Emily?” Adrian’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you always have to look like a stray dog who had the entire city’s sewage dumped on her?”

I lifted the briefcase with the folders from the waterproof bag. “You told me to bring this.”

Whispers spread around the room.

“Why did Mr. Cole marry her?”

“She hasn’t even given him a child.”

Adrian’s jaw tightened. “Get out.”

When I didn’t move fast enough, he came over and gripped my neck until I could barely breathe.

“This is the last time I want to see your face here. Do you understand? You humiliate me every time. I curse the day I married you.

He had always looked at my cousin Kira with a softness he never showed me. We grew up together, but once he met her, I knew he loved her more.

I nodded quickly, shaking. “I’ll leave… please, it’s raining. Can you drop me off?”

He shoved me aside. “Go the way you came. I didn’t bring you here.”

I went home, my neck throbbing. Five years of marriage had given me both joy and misery. Joy, because I had learned to love Adrian. Misery, because he always loved someone else.

That night, I cried myself to sleep.

Cold water splashed across my face, followed by a sharp slap.

“You dare sleep while I go hungry?” Adrian’s voice cut through me.

The clock read 2 a.m. I had slept straight through the evening.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’ll make it now.”

His eyes were like ice. “Don’t bother. I’ll have what I see.” He grabbed my wrist and pulled me down onto the bed.

His eyes don’t leave mine as he pulls his hard cock from his pants and positions himself at the entrance of my dry pussy.

He pushed his cock into me until his entire length is just inside and then he thrusts hard, filling me completely. Reaching down, he drags one of my legs up and pulls my body away from the bed, his fingers digging hard into my flesh.

His other hand wraps around the front of my already tender throat until I’m stretched between the tip of his cock and the bed.

I could already tell this is going to hurt not because I didn’t want the sex, but I had no atom of arousal and wasn’t wet, leaving my pussy sore.

I gasp as he thrusts into me with a force that borders on pain, my body straining against the unyielding bed. The mixture of pleasure and discomfort sends a pulsing sensation through me, heightening every sensation. His grip on my throat tightens, restricting my airflow.

“Please Adrian, I’m in p…pains.” I manage to voice out while whimpering.

His movements are rough and unrelenting, his cock pounding into me with an urgency that matches the darkness in his eyes. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pain radiating through my body. I struggle to find my breath, my mind clouded by a heavy cocktail of thoughts.

The pressure on my throat intensifies, he kissed my cheeks so softly. “Ah you always feel so good. I guess you do have one useful thing about you."

He came crashing on me as soon as he came, the rest blurred into pain and humiliation, my tears soaking the pillow in silence as I sought for sleep.

By morning, I forced myself to make his breakfast exactly as he liked. My body ached, but I hoped it would calm him.

Adrian sat, sipped the tea, and spat it out. “What is this? Cold? Tasteless?” He shoved the cup away, hot liquid spilling over my hands.

I bit back a cry as the burn spread. He didn’t care. His glare was worse than the pain.