The Regret of the Ex-husband

CHAPTER 1: HALLOWEEN FUCK

EVIE’S POV

The air is thick with the smell of spilled beer and some gross, sweet perfume.

The bass from the music is pounding up through my heels, right into my bones. I’m frozen just inside the door of this stupid mansion, my fingers twisting in the hem of a skirt that’s way too short.

This “witch” costume Mia forced me into is a joke. This black lace corset is squeezing me so tight I can’t breathe, shoving my tits up so high they’re practically in my face.

I can feel the cool air on my thighs where these stupid stockings end, and these heels are a death trap.

What the actual fuck am I doing here?

For two months, I’ve been a pro at avoiding Theon Mercer. Since our parents got married, his cold stares and shitty comments have turned the house into a warzone.

He’s arrogant. Entitled. Thinks he owns the whole world.

And now, thanks to Mia, I’m standing in the middle of his party, dressed like a slutty Halloween decoration, basically begging for his attention. The thought makes me sick to my stomach.

“Stop fidgeting, you look fucking hot,” Mia hisses in my ear, shoving a red cup into my hand. I take a sip and wince. It’s basically straight vodka. “See? Better already.”

I scan the room, my eyes skipping over drunk, laughing people. It’s a mess of bodies grinding, people disappearing into dark corners. It smells like sweat and weed. And then I see him.

Theon.

He’s in the kitchen, holding court. Leaning against the counter like a goddamn king, a beer bottle dangling from his fingers.

His dark hair is messy, and those ice-blue eyes are sharp enough to cut. He laughs at something, and the sound goes right through me.

His white t-shirt is stretched tight over his stupidly broad shoulders and his jeans are hanging so low on his hips I can see the trail of hair leading south.

My stomach does a flip. Fuck. He looks good.

I force myself to look away, but it’s too late. Tyler Briggs, the king of sleazy charm, has spotted me. I see him nudge his friend and look right at me.

“Damn,” he says, loud enough for me to hear. “Who knew the quiet one was hiding all that?”

My heart plummets. I try to turn away, but he’s already coming over, a gross smirk on his face. Mia, the traitor, just grins and disappears.

Tyler boxes me in against the wall, his body too close, his beer breath hot on my face.

“Well, well. Eve. Didn’t recognize you without a book.” His fingers brush my waist and my skin crawls. “Nice costume. Or lack of one.”

I try to shift away. “Thanks. Yours is… something.”

He’s in a toga. Of course he is.

He leans in, his voice a slimy whisper.

“Always wondered what you were hiding under those sweaters.” His thumb strokes the lace of my corset, and I feel sick.

I’m about to shove him off when a shadow falls over us.

Theon’s hand clamps down on Tyler’s shoulder, yanking him back so hard he stumbles.

“Get your fucking hands off her,” Theon growls. His voice is low and dangerous, and it does something to me right between my legs.

I shouldn’t like it. But I do.

Tyler just laughs, holding his hands up. “Chill, Mercer. Just talking. Didn’t know she was yours.”

Theon doesn’t even look at him. His eyes are locked on me, burning with a fire I’ve never seen. He looks pissed. He looks hungry.

“Who said you could wear that for anyone but me?” he says, his voice rough.

My breath hitches. “Excuse me?”

He doesn’t answer. His fingers wrap around my wrist, tight enough to leave Kashs, and he’s pulling me. Dragging me through the crowd.

I stumble in my heels, my protests swallowed by the music.

“Theon! Stop!”

He doesn’t stop. He pulls me up the stairs, past people making out, and kicks open his bedroom door, shoving me inside. The lock clicks.

I whirl around, my back against the door.

“What the hell is wrong with you? You can’t just—”

He crashes into me, his body pinning me to the wood. One hand slams next to my head, the other grips my hip, his fingers digging in. His breath is hot on my neck.

“You’re mine tonight. And I don’t share.”

My heart is hammering. This is wrong. This is so wrong. But my body is screaming the opposite. Heat pools low in my belly, and I can feel myself getting wet.

“You don’t own me,” I whisper, but my voice is shaky.

“No?” His free hand slides up my thigh, his calloused fingers brushing against the damp lace of my panties. A whimper escapes me. “Then why are you already so fucking wet for me, Evie?”

Oh, God. He feels it. He knows.

His chuckle is dark and triumphant.

“God, you’re such a fucking tease. Always have been.” His lips burned against my ear, his teeth closing on the lobe. “You think I don’t see you? Prancing around in those tiny shorts with no panties on? Getting yourself off in the bathroom, hoping I’ll hear? You’re not a good girl, you’re a greedy little whore, Evie. And this wet, aching cunt is proof you’re mine to use.”

His fingers press harder against the soaked fabric, and my hips jerk. A moan tears from my throat. I’m betraying myself, and I can’t stop.

Then his mouth is on mine. It’s a desperate kiss. Brutal and demanding. His tongue forces my lips apart and he tastes like beer and pure sin. I melt into him.

My hands clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer. I kiss him back, my tongue tangling with his, and a low growl rumbles in his chest.

His hands are everywhere. Gripping my waist, squeezing my ass so hard it’ll bruise, tangling in my hair to tilt my head back. I’m on fire. The corset is too tight. I need it off. I need him.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down my neck.

“Fuck, you taste like trouble,” he groans, biting my collarbone.

His hands find the laces of my corset and he yanks them loose with one sharp pull. The fabric falls open and my tits spill out into the cool air.

His breath hitches.

“Look at you.” His voice is full of awe. Then his mouth is on my breast, his tongue lashing my nipple before he sucks it deep.

I cry out, my fingers fisting in his hair. It’s too much. His hot mouth, his rough stubble on my sensitive skin. I’m losing my mind.

“Theon—!”

His hand slides down my stomach, past the waistband of my ruined panties. His fingers slide through my wetness, making me gasp.

“So fucking soaked,” he murmurs against my skin. “You like this, don’t you? You like when I touch your dirty little pussy.”

Two of his thick fingers push inside me without warning, and I scream. It’s a rough, perfect stretch. He curls them, hitting a spot deep inside me that makes my eyes roll back.

“You’re mine, Evie,” he growls, his fingers pumping in and out. “Say it.”

I can’t think. I can’t breathe. Pleasure is coiling tight in my core.

“Yours,” I sob, the word ripped from me. “I’m yours!”

His growl of approval is my undoing. My orgasm shatters through me, my body clamping down on his fingers as I scream, my vision whiting out.

He doesn’t stop, drawing out every last shudder until I’m limp against the door.

Then he pulls his fingers out, shiny with my wetness, and brings them to his lips. His eyes lock on mine as he sucks them clean.

A dark smirk plays on his mouth.

“Sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever tasted.”

My legs are jelly. But he’s not done. He spins me around, pressing my front against the door. His hard cock is digging into my ass.

“Ass up,” he commands, his voice rough.

He bends me over, his hand a firm pressure on my back. I feel the cool air on my bare skin as he yanks my skirt up.

His hand comes down on my ass in a sharp smack. I yelp. The sting is sharp, but it melts into a deep, throbbing heat. He does it again, and I moan, pushing my ass back for more.

“Such a filthy, greedy girl,” he rasps, his hand rubbing the sore spot.

I feel him tear my panties the rest of the way off. Then his fingers are back, spreading me open.

“Look at this pretty, used pussy,” he groans. “So fucking ready for my cock.”

I feel the thick, hot head of him press against my entrance. I’m so wet, so open for him.

“You’re gonna take every inch,” he growls. And then he slams into me.

I scream as he fills me, stretching me to the brink. It’s a burn, a perfect, brutal fullness.

His balls slap against me as he sets a punishing rhythm, his grip on my hips keeping me in place.

“You like that?” he grunts, pounding into me. “You like when I fuck this tight little cunt raw?”

“Yes! Harder!” I’m begging, my voice ragged. I’ve never felt so owned, so completely fucked. His cock is hitting a spot deep inside me that feels like heaven.

His hand tangles in my hair, yanking my head back. “Who do you belong to?” he demands.

“You!” I sob. “Only you, Theon!”

His thrusts become wild, erratic. I feel him swell inside me, and then he’s pulling out, flipping me onto my back on the bed. He hooks my legs over his shoulders, his eyes burning into mine.

“Look at me,” he orders, his voice raw. “Watch me fill you up.”

He drives back into me, and I obey, my eyes locked on his. I watch the sweat on his brow, the strain in his neck, the pure, raw need on his face as he fucks me.

It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen.

His thumb finds my clit, rubbing rough, fast circles. “Come for me, Evie. Now.”

I explode. My back arches off the bed, a broken scream tearing from my throat as another orgasm wrecks me, my pussy milking his cock. He groans, his thrusts turning jerky, and then he pulls out.

I watch, mesmerized, as his hand strokes his thick, hard cock and he paints my stomach and my tits with hot, sticky stripes of his cum.

The sight of it on my skin makes me moan, my body still trembling.

He stands over me, chest heaving, his eyes dark and satisfied. “Now everyone will know who this pretty pussy belongs to.”

He tosses a towel at me.

“Clean yourself up. Then get back to the party.” His gaze is a brand. “And don’t you dare let anyone else touch what’s mine.”

Then he’s gone, the door slamming shut.

I lie there, covered in his cum, my body aching and used. My mind is racing. What the fuck just happened? I let him ruin me. I begged for it.

Things would never be the same again.