I packed my bags ready for war this time, no more running. No more hiding in this shitty apartment with the poison still itching under my skin. I was done letting Elena play her games—smiling while she poisoned me, sending Victor to catch me with Robert's cum dripping out of me, twisting the knife with that childhood photo and her neat little note: Blood is thicker than water.
Fuck that.
I was going back to the mansion to face her and her stupid tricks, that perfect smile, and most of all, making Victor claim me.
For real this time.
I wanted to be the billionaire's wife. The one with the ring, the mansion, the keys, the queen of his empire, lily calling me Mommy. His cock every night—hard and deep. I wanted it all, or maybe I just wanted to be Elena. The perfect and the untouchable one.The one everyone loved.
I hated myself for it.
But Victor was my motive.
My excuse.
But he was mine first. Those looks at the bar, The way he fucked me raw on their wedding night counter. The gala restroom—him slamming into me while I begged.
Elena stole him.
Tamed him.
I'd take him back whatever it took. I'd
fuck him in her bed if I had to. Stalk him, manipulate him, whisper lies in his ear about her. Use Lily—make her cry to him about "Mommy's secrets." Anything.
Anything at all to make him stop seeing me as just the slut. The side fuck.
I needed that ring forever.
Game time!.
No waiting for her to destroy me.
I was shameless now.
After masturbating to his photos all day—fingering my clit, moaning his name, cuming hard thinking of his cock stretching me.
After losing my job obsessing over him.
I could kill for him and I would.
I will reclaim him no matter the cost.
I zipped the last bag and stood in front of the mirror one more time with my tight dress, sharp heels and my lips painted red like blood.
It's time!
A hard knock thundered at the door.
I froze.
My heart slammed,
I wasn't expecting anyone and definitely not in the mood for surprises.
My hand grabbed the heavy glass cup from the counter—weapon if I needed.
"Who's there?" I whispered, my back pressed tightly to the door as my voice shakes
"Victor," came the voice. Rough. Choking. Slurred.
Drunk.
I yanked the door open without thinking, and there he was.
The esteemed Victor Ravenscroft. Most feared man in the company. The perfect husband. The billionaire everyone bowed to.
Staggering, drunk, suit rumpled, tie gone, hair messy with his office briefcase dangling from one hand.
" this wasn't part of the plan"
I hurriedly looked through the window, no driver in sight? No car? How the hell did he get here?
He pushed past me as he stumbled inside, dropped the briefcase and collapsed on my bed like he owned it.
I slammed the door shut. Locked it fast.
I turned to him.
"Victor? What the—"
He grabbed me forcefully, yanked me down on the bed. Pinned me under him, his weight so heavy and his breath smelled like whiskey and rage. He tore my dress—my fabric ripped loudly as my button popped.
"You did this," he growled.
Broken.
"I did what?" I gasped, struggling but heat flooded me instantly.
His hand shoved between my legs. Found no panties.
Fingers rough—pushing in deep.
"How?" he snarled. "Fucking Robert. In front of me."
He tore my thong off. Spread my thighs wide.
Forced his cock out—hard, angry, thick.
He slammed into me without warning. I felt pain, i cried out.
"This is how you like it huh?" he grunted. Thrusting deep into my pussy, deeply, roughly, he was punishing me like a whore.
Tears stung my eyes.
This wasn't how I wanted it.
Not forced, not with him angry,
but my body betrayed me.
My pussy clenched around him, all wet and needy.
I groaned. "f..fuck Victor…"
He flipped me suddenly. Hung my ass up and my face down on the pillow.
His hand fisted my hair, opened my thigh widely and pounded me angrily from behind, his balls slapping my clit. Cock hitting deep—bruising.
"How'd it feel when Robert fucked you?" he rasped, with a broken voice. "Better than me?"
"No, never," I moaned, pushing back. Taking every thrust. "Never."
He slapped my ass so hard it stings. Then again.
I cum suddenly, my legs were vibrating, that electrifying feeling. I screamed into the pillow.
But he didn't stop, he pulled out, flipped me on my back, hung my legs over his shoulders and slammed in again.
In a deeper angle this time, I almost felt his dick in my throat, his eyes were locked on mine—dark, tormented.
"Mine, all mine" he growled. "You're mine."
I wrapped my legs around him, my nails raking his back.
"Say it," I gasped.
He fucked harder, deeper. The bed was banging the wall, shaking to the rhythm of our movements.
"Mine," he repeated angrily.
I cum again—harder this time, my pussy was pulsing. Milking him.
He pulled out fast. Flipped me to ride him.
I sank down in a reverse cowgirl. Gave my ass to him, rode him wildly, grinding and bouncing.
His hands spread my cheeks, as his thumb circles my ass. He
pushed in slowly as I cried out, riding him faster, thinking—this is it.
Jealousy made him claim me roughly and possessively.
I turned, facing him, I rode forward positioning my soft tits in his face.
He grabbed them roughly and sucked them softly, biting and circling them with his tongue
I screamed cuming again.
He thrust up—deeply and brutally.
He spilled inside me. Hot. Thick. Groaning my name like a prayer.
We collapsed on the bed, panting, sweating, and tangled.
He wrapped his hands around me tightly, like he never wanted to let go.
I stroked his hair. Our hearts were racing.
This was my chance.
While he was raw. Vulnerable.
Drunk on whiskey and jealous.
"I had to make a move"
I leaned closely as my lips grazed his ears.
"I want you to leave Elena."