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My Daughter Called Another Woman Mommy
My Daughter Called Another Woman Mommy
Author: Simone

ONE

Author: Simone
last update publish date: 2026-08-24 14:21:51

“Hardin, please slow down… fuckk!!”

My palms press weakly against my husband’s broad shoulders, pleasure numbing my brain as he slams into my swollen pussy harder and faster. 

His thick, fat cock stretches my walls with every brutal thrust, the wet, sinful slap of skin on skin echoing in the quiet morning light. 

I should be pushing him away, but my hips lift off the mattress on their own, greedily meeting him thrust for thrust even as the words tumble out of me;

“Please, Hardin. I can’t t-take it… mm-hm! Faster!”

Somewhere at the back of my mind, it registers that I sound like a desperate slut. But I’ve long since passed the point of caring. 

One more savage snap of his hips and I shatter, my pussy clenching hard around him as a broken cry tears from my throat. 

Hardin follows a second later with a low, sexy growl that has my toes curling, burying himself to the hilt and flooding me in hot pulses. After what feels like an eternity, he collapses on top of me, heavy and spent. 

For one blissful second, I bury my nose in his neck and breathe in his delicious Old Spice scent like a starved woman. 

I want to stay like this forever. I really wish we could stay like this forever.

But I know my husband. I know even the slightest movement might remind him that he’d rather be anywhere else in the world than here with me. 

My gaze drifts towards the heavy draperies as I force myself to remain still. 

I barely breathe. I don’t dare shift an inch, terrified that if I do, Hardin will remember himself and pull away. 

It’s our sixth anniversary and for once, I’m letting myself believe that maybe, things could be different. 

Maybe Hardin will stay. Maybe he’ll hold me a little tighter and finally whisper the words I’ve longed to hear for the past six years.

Maybe he’ll finally tell me he loves me. 

The thought barely marinates when Hardin suddenly stirs. My arms fall to the bed and I watch helplessly as he starts to roll off me, his jaw already tightening with irritation? Anger? These days, I can barely tell.

A desperate whimper slips past my throat and I lurch forward without thinking, my fingers closing around one of his huge biceps in a frantic attempt to stop him. 

Hardin freezes. Then, finally, those dark grey eyes settle on me.

Have you forgotten what today is? I want to ask. But I still have a few scraps of dignity left, so I just settle for whispering; “where are you going?”

He lifts one brow, that familiar look of impatience already settling over his face.

“I have an important board meeting in the next thirty minutes.”

Something inside me finally cracks and tears spill down my cheeks before I can hold them back. 

“I thought you said you were free today.” I choke out, hating how pathetic I sound. “You said we could spend time together. Don’t you remember?”

For a moment, Hardin doesn’t respond. 

His dark eyes remain fixed on my tears, slowly tracing the wet tracks down my cheeks.

Then, as if a switch had been flipped, his expression hardens and his lips press into a thin line.

“I don’t have time to lie around all day, Keona. I have work to do. Maybe next time.”

He tries to leave again but I hang on tighter, unwilling to let him go just yet.

“Please, Hardin?” My voice comes out small. “I don’t wanna be alone today.”

It’s our anniversary. Don’t you remember?

The words sit on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t bring myself to say them out. 

I hate how needy I sound. How needy I feel.

I hate that loving this man has reduced me to clinging to him for scraps of attention and begging him to stay.

Hardin looks down at me, and something about the way he studies my face makes me hold my breath. For one brief moment, I think he might actually reconsider. 

Then his jaw clenches. And he gently but firmly pulls his arm from my grip. 

“Find something meaningful to do,” he says, his tone painfully dismissive. “Don’t just lie around all day.”

I watch him leave, my heart cracking to pieces as I mourn the loss of his body against mine. 

“I love you so much, Hardin,” I whisper. “It’s been six years already. What do I have to do to make you love me back?”

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  • My Daughter Called Another Woman Mommy   THIRTY THREE

    KEONASomething tells me Sophia’s presence in Milan, in this very hotel, is no coincidence.Everything about her, from the blush-pink blouse dipping low enough to show off her ample cleavage to the satin skirt with a slit high enough to leave very little to the imagination, feels calculated. Even that breathy, excited voice she saves exclusively for Hardin makes me suspect this entire trip was carefully planned.I stop at the reception, my jaw tightening as Sophia throws herself into Hardin’s arms and clings to him shamelessly. She makes such a spectacle of their reunion that several guests turn to stare.“I’m so happy to see you, Hardin. How are you?”I roll my eyes.A stranger watching the exaggerated interaction would think Hardin just returned from fighting the Second World War. I watch my husband’s reaction to Sophia closely, noting the way his lips curl into the faintest smile, and the way he effortlessly holds her against his chest.Bile rises in my throat, making my mouth w

  • My Daughter Called Another Woman Mommy   THIRTY TWO

    HARDIN“I just realized I have the habit of keeping things I don’t need…”Those words are still echoing in my mind two hours later, when we’re about to board the plane. The words echo in my mind as I watch Keona choose the seat farthest from me once we’re aboard. She pulls out her sketchbook, slips on her headphones, and starts doodling, making it painfully clear she has no intention of saying a single word to me.There’s a boulder sitting on my chest, stifling my ability to breathe. And I’m only just realizing that it’s been there for the past week, since Keona started acting strange. I close my eyes and remind myself that I’m only doing this because the mother of my child seemed unhappy. Nothing more, nothing less. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I whip out my laptop and start answering emails and rescheduling meetings. This trip came together at the last minute, forcing me to rearrange most of the important work I’d planned for the week.Yet, with a growing sense of unease,

  • My Daughter Called Another Woman Mommy   THIRTY ONE

    KEONAI must be riding on the waves of stupidity because I actually agreed to go to Milan with Hardin. A part of my befuddled brain screams that so many things could go wrong. I hate Hardin. I do, but I cannot deny the fact that a tiny, small portion of me is still very much attracted to my husband. “Ma’am?” I almost jump a mile when Mina’s voice breaks into my reverie. I look up to find her draped against the doorway, a crisp white envelope clutched in both hands.“Mina? What’s that?”She looks down, blinking like she just remembered she walked in here for a reason.“This came for you, ma’am.”Eyes narrowed in curiosity, I take the envelope from her outstretched hands and open it immediately. The first few lines sends chills down my spine.SUPREME COURT OF THE STATE OF NEW YORKCOUNTY OF NEW YORKIn the Matter of the Divorce of:Keona Beverly Cromwell,PlaintiffAgainst Hardin Reagan Cromwell,Defendant.SUMMONS WITH NOTICEA loud whistle goes off in the back of my mind, coveri

  • My Daughter Called Another Woman Mommy   THIRTY

    KEONAMina gasps like I just accused her of blasphemy.“Madam, that is just preposterous. Mr. Cromwell would never do such a thing.”My eyeballs swivel back to my bags.“So why…?”“Well, Mr. Cromwell informed me this morning that he’d love to take you on a five-day trip to Milan.”I pause for a moment, my brows furrowing in confusion. “Uh…what? Why would he do that?”Mina seems taken aback by my obvious lack of enthusiasm. “Madam, aren’t you excited? The boss personally planned this trip for you. He was up since four this morning, making sure everything was in place, and—”“That’s enough, Mina.” The gruff baritone comes from behind me. My shoulders stiffen as the sound of heavy footsteps draws closer, until my heart is pounding hard enough to feel like it might break through my ribs.Exactly five seconds later — I know because I’m counting them in my head like an absolute freak — a wave of heat settles against my back, followed by Hardin’s familiar scent.“I’m taking you to Milan,

  • My Daughter Called Another Woman Mommy   TWENTY NINE

    KEONAA part of my brain recognizes that I’m in big trouble, that I should probably climb out of Hardin’s lap before my alcohol-induced mind forces me to do something I’d regret. Like grinding my throbbing pussy against his juicy dick print. Or licking the happy trail that disappears into the waistband of his slacks. I try to back away, but my brain is too fuzzy. My arms are weak. And the exhaustion that weighed me down earlier suddenly returns tenfold, making my bones feel heavier than usual.My gaze drops to Hardin’s chest, then lingers on the tantalizing cord of muscle standing out along his bicep.But I force myself to look away.I’m far too tired to start thinking about why being this close to him still affects me.So instead, I curl into him, resting my head against his chest and letting my drooping eyes finally fall shut.“Five minutes,” the sleepy mumble falls from my lips. “Please hold me for five minutes.”A second later, I feel Hardin’s fingers slip into my hair, gently

  • My Daughter Called Another Woman Mommy   TWENTY EIGHT

    KEONA“Put me down,” I mutter, turning my head away from Hardin’s chest when all I want to do is sink deeper into his warmth and rest my throbbing head against his bicep.He doesn’t respond.He just keeps walking, taking the grand stairs two at a time.“Didn’t you hear me?” My voice is a lazy, drunken slur. I hit him in the chest with my fist, but I doubt he feels much of anything. I’m too drunk to put any real force behind the hit. “I said put me down.”“You don’t want that,” Hardin says tightly. “Yes, I do. I can walk on my own. Besides—”“Why?” He asks, suddenly cutting me off. “Why what?”“You used to want me to carry you. A lot. You asked for it at every slight opportunity. Why can’t I do it now?”My throat tightens and I look away from him, refusing to process the myriad of emotions that currently plague my tired brain.“Well, you used to complain a lot when I asked you to do it before. Why do you suddenly want to heft me around now?”Hardin doesn’t say a word for a long mom

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