All Chapters of Wrecked By My Bully: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

She looks over her shoulder at me, and I can see the indecision there, but Isla wants it. I can see it written all over her face."Say it, Isla.""Please, Dante."It's not enough. "Tell me you're mine.""I'm yours."I stroke her faster, circling her clit. Isla pushes her hips back further, her chest pressing against the table. I lean forward to kiss a line up her neck, savoring the taste of her skin. She's close to coming, and I keep my fingers moving on her clit, knowing how to push her over the edge."Tell me who you belong to.""You," she pants, her body beginning to tremble, "I'm yours, Dante.""Now tell me what you want," I lean forward to nip at her ear, my body covering hers, "In detail, sweet Isla"."I want you to fuck me." Her words are breathless, and I know she's close to coming. "Please, Dante, please fuck me."I release her and step back, ignoring her gasp of surprise. When she turns to look at me, her face is flushed and her hair is coming loose from the intricate style

I wish I had never found the damn envelope. Blissful ignorance was so much better than the truth.Dante comes homea few hours later. I've been waiting in our bedroom—hisbedroom—and my pulse is racing as I hear him shut the door and move through the house. The envelope is creased from where I've been gripping it so tightly, and I try to keep my courage up to face him.His steps are slow and unhurried. Dante never rushes. He expects the world to move faster for him when he needs it, not the other way around. Then the door opens, and he stands there, loosening his tie as he fills the doorway."You've been waiting for me."I hold up the envelope in a barely steady hand. My throat is so tight it's hard to force the words out. "I found this."Dante takes his tie off, sitting on the dresser as he approaches me. His eyes narrow, and he looks at me, really looks, and there's zero shame in his gaze. "So you know everything, then."I swallow, trying to make my bone-dry mouth work. "I knew you bo

EPILOGUEDANTEOne Year LaterIslow the car down in front of the iron gates, reaching out to type the PIN into the keypad and watching as they swing open. The papers are signed, the deed handed over, and we are finally home.All three of us.Our daughter Mia gurgles in the back seat, and I watch as Isla reaches back to soothe her. My wife is a bundle of nerves about the new house, but it's everything I wanted in a home. It's sprawling and just isolated enough that I never have to see a neighbor. I have space, privacy, and control. Everything I need.I park the car, and Isla unbuckles Mia's seat. She goes to lift the carrier out, but I stop her. "You're not lifting a finger. You're still healing."She huffs a laugh, but lets me take our daughter as we climb the steps to the house. Inside, it smells of fresh paint, and all of the personal touches Isla asked for have been placed. Sun beamsthrough the high windows, but nothing is brighter than the smile my wife gives me."How do you like

“You look great,” I tell her, and that’s putting it mildly. My cock is raging beneath my pants and my veins are on fire with my blood coursing through them. I’m lit up and can’t even remember the last time I felt this way. She’s so small and supple, yet confident at the same time. I want to snatch her up in my hands and ravish her.Fuck, what’s she doing to me?I’ve lost my cool and am struggling to maintain it as I drag my eyes up her amazing body, wondering if she has any panties on under those skin-tight pants. She works too much? How is this girl not modeling? She can’t be more than twenty-three, and that would be pushing it.“Thank you,” she replies with a nervous smile. “So…would you like to see what I brought you?”“More than anything,” I tell her. Again, she fidgets slightly then unwraps her dish. Instantly, my nose is flooded with an incredible smell. I can already tell she knows how to cook. I may be starving, but it will take more than her meal to satisfy me now.And what’s

The way he looked at me…it wasn’t like you might expect from a man who must have had every beautiful woman in the country; it was like he was actually interested in me. Of course, it could have all been an act, but I consider myself a pretty good judge of people and I didn’t pick up on any bullshit.It really seemed like he actually liked me.Don’t fall for it!I tell myself. He’s trouble. Nothing but trouble.In fact, as far as I’m concerned, all men are trouble. I was convinced my father was a good man; he and my mom seemed blissful in their marriage. Then when I was thirteen, my parents split and I found out he’d been cheating on my mom. He moved out and I haven’t seen him since.My mom tried dating after that, but all the guys she met were jerks. I guess that’s the reason why I never had a serious boyfriend either. What’s the point? When you don’t have any examples of real love—in fact you only have examples of love failing, giving your heart to someone else isn’t your highest prio