I paid good money for this pussy

Something ugly flashed in Jason's eyes as he watched his father breed the girl he’d used for three years. Was it anger? Revulsion? Sadness? Was he even a little upset?

He got to his feet. A pang went through my chest, thinking he was about to leave. Reject me. Like everyone had. My whole life. Everyone but him. For better or worse, that still meant something to me.

"Didn't I fucking say look at me while I fuck you? Kiss me, damn it," Derek demanded, driving his dick into me deep and hard.

I cried out, in genuine pain, the force of the thrust ringing in my pelvic bones.

"Dad, you're hurting her. Stop it," Jason begged, taking a step forward.

"You're fucking mine now," Derek roared, withdrawing only to plunge into me with the same force. "He can't have you, angel."

The memories faded to black as a foggy figure rushed in behind Jason, calling out to him while he grabbed my hand and said, "It's okay, Pearly. It's all going to be just fine. We'll go back to the way it was. Forget this ever happened."

He patted my hand comfortingly, but the concern in his eyes was a bad omen of things to come. Plush Pearl didn't want to go back to the way it was. I didn't want to continue being used and neglected. At least not the way Jason did it.

Derek's use of my pussy. His lips molding to mine as he eased his dick in and out of me. Was it wrong that I loved his touch? Not his mind or heart or anything, because I didn't know the man. Just his dick pounding away at my pussy while he kissed me freely. Touched and groped at my tits like he enjoyed it.

Fuck the way it was. I wanted—

"Jay baby, Pearl needs to take this call," a foggy voice said, while Derek's tongue danced around in my mouth, fucking it with his own.

"Hey Pearly. Are you enjoying the sex, buttercup?" another voice hit my ears, this time stunning me into banging at mg husband's chest.

"Stop. Wait. Please," I begged, but Derek's mouth refused to release mine.

A knew that voice. Even though my sight and hearing were failing mid fuck, I knew only one person called me buttercup.

Fuck.

Now my father was listening to us fuck too?

—end of flashback—

Everything came back to me all at once, then split off into fragments and I forgot again. The more I tried to recall anything beyond my husband's brutal fucking while Jason held my hand, the more it hurt to think.

Now, shame and panic surged hot in my chest. I had to fix this. Call Jason. Apologize. Beg him to take me back, even if I hated myself for it. I would say we were even now. Derek got his kinky fuck. He would divorce me now. It was the only thing that made sense. I didn't want to lose them both. Not being Jason Nelson's girlfriend terrified me.

What would people say? Who would ever look at me as a serious romantic prospect again? Certainly not Derek. He was my boyfriend's father. Old enough to be mine. All he wanted was to fuck a virgin.

"Right. Just a drunken mistake," I told myself, a pang going through my chest, knowing I lost my virginity to a man who didn't care about me or even know me.

A sliver of guilt caught up with me as I slid out from under Derek’s arm.

What the fuck was wrong with me? Going back was the right thing to do. The only thing. So why did a part of me not want to leave?

"Get it together, Pearl. Adults leave behind their one night stand husbands," I preached to myself while touching my lips, the warm afterglow of satisfaction washing over me.

The movement of finally getting away from my husband tugged at my swollen, well used pussy. Everything fucking hurt, but a huge smile was on my face. I had been waiting all my life to be in so much pain that I could barely walk.

Naked, I padded across the plush carpet to where my purse had been dumped on a velvet chaise. My phone had to be in there.

I was digging through lipstick and eyeliner, when a low, sleepy rumble stopped me cold.

Fuck. Did I wake him?

“Looking for something, angel?” a hoarse, husky voice reverberated through the room, giving me goosebumps.

My pussy clenched, recalling that same voice saying the filthiest things to me while we fucked. God, what did drunken whore me say to this perfect depiction of the male human form?

I spun around and pasted a smile on my face, clutching the purse to my chest like it could hide my nakedness.

Derek was propped on one elbow, the sheet barely covering his hips. His eyes raked over me slowly. His gaze was liberate and hungry. My heavy breasts, the curve of my belly, the thick thighs still marked with faint fingerprints from last night.

I wanted to curl up in a hole and hide my biggest shame: being fat. But there was nothing around. Fuck knew what I thought I was doing, walking around his room without covering up.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," I said, awkwardly covering my tits with one arm, and laying my purse in front of my pussy.

I couldn't move. His eyes on me froze me solid in place. I was uncomfortable with him looking and yet even more so with him not looking. Taking his wife's body seemed like his right. No, I wasn't that conservative. I didn't actually believe that. My clenching pussy did though. It ached. Grew wet. I knew because I woke up with a swollen, but clean and dry cunt.

"You cleaned me up after sex," I muttered without meaning to, more touched than I ought to have been.

Because what if I was wrong and he let someone else—

"Of course I did. You passed out on my dick, angel. I felt awful. I suppose I'm too jealous a man to share my wife's body after all. Even having Jason just look while I fucked you was maddening," he said, a low rumble emitting from his chest. "Hence the brute attention to your pussy. Accept my apologies," he said, his voice softening. "It was the least I could do. I hope you don't mind."

No disgust. Just raw, possessive want with a touch of affection that made my nipples peak and my sore pussy clench.

That wasn't possible. He didn't know me. He couldn't care for me. And yet…

“This is your bed,” I whispered, stupidly. “Not Jason’s.”

He smirked, tossing the sheet aside as he stood. Morning erection thick and heavy, curving up against his abs. My mouth went dry and I gulped.

“Of course it’s mine, wife.” He stalked toward me, all lethal grace, crossing the room in big strides until he was before me. “Now get that gorgeous ass back to bed and sit on my cock where you belong.”

The command, both sensual and demanding, sent heat flooding my core even as panic spiked.

“Derek, yesterday was great, like yay. Thank you so much, but I can't go through that again. I don't think I will survive regularly having sex with you. We need to talk about divorce," I said firmly, but I couldn't look him in the eye.

Too close. Still smelled so good. Fuck knew what his scent was exactly, but it was masculine. Strong. Alluring.

His smile sharpened, but his eyes softened, almost tender, giving me whiplash. Was he about to be super nice or super… not?

“Divorce isn’t on the menu, Pearl. You'll get used to my dick being inside you all the time," he said, nonchalantly closing in on me. He crowded me against the wall, hands caging me in, cock brushing my belly. Then he cupped my mound and said with a shrug and inverted smile, “I paid good money for this pussy. It’s mine now.”

“Paid—?” I shrieked, but the word dissolved into a gasp as he ducked his head.

His mouth latched onto my neck swiftly, sucking hard enough to mark me. I inhaled sharply, slamming both hands against the wall.

"Derek," I moaned, every ache in my body forgotten while all my attention settled on my horny pussy.

Did I want him to stop or keep going?

One big hand cupped my breast. His thumb rolled my nipple until I whimpered. The other slid between my thighs, finding me slick and ready despite everything.

Damn it, I was intoxicated with him touching me. Just like I had been last night. I wanted him or at least my pussy did.

“Fuck, you’re soaked already,” he growled against my skin, two thick fingers pushing inside me easily and curling. “This cunt remembers who it belongs to.”

I moaned, my head thumping back against the wall, legs spreading without permission. He pumped his fingers into me slowly. His thumb circled my clit until I was grinding against his hand like a desperate slut.

I resisted the urge to tell him how amazing it felt, desperately trying for different words. What the fuck did he mean he paid for me?