22. Justine

"Wait-wait-wait, no, this is too fast. Let me catch my breath. Say that again and talk slow."

"I said, your divorce is…. Damn Marcus." One minute, I was talking to Monique, and the next, I was being dragged away.

He pulled me along behind him out into the lobby, where there were about six different phone operators for the different divisions in the company. It looked like something out of a Katherine Hepburn Spencer Tracy black and white film. Not one of them looked up as their boss dragged me out of the building and into his waiting car.

"Where are we going?"

"We had a deal, remember."

"Deal?" He looked at his watch.

"My place is about seven minutes from here if I speed. That's closer than the nearest hotel, I think."

‘I'll light up all the candles all around. Show me to the subway; I'll go down.' Justice is singing, Joe.

‘It's a good thing you washed your ass this morning before coming to work. Wait, which drawers you got on? Don't embarrass me, you hear?'

Shut up and let me think. "Is the divorce really final? How'd you do that?"

"Money!" He was gripping the steering wheel hard enough to snap it in half. Now, my heart was racing with excitement, anticipation, and fear.

What if, after all this build-up, it's a big old flop? What if he decides he doesn't want this after all? It had only been a few weeks since the papers were filed. Weeks where the tension kept building more and more each day to the point that I was sure others could see it.

The only distraction I had was in the evenings when Carl and Mo would bicker with each other nonstop, and I had to play referee. Marcus had made poor Carl come over since the incident with Paul, and when the two of them left late at night I could swear I saw the secret agents walking around the property.

Marcus tends to go overboard with everything, and if I dare try to say anything, he just makes it worse. My damn house looks like a toy store. Everything they have at the daycare that my girls like to play with, he buys one for the house.

My kids are so spoiled they've taken to running to him or their Aunty Mo-Mo if I tell them no about something. Why am I rambling in my thoughts?

‘Because he's about to break your chassis in half with that monster dick of his. He's about to rub it, flip it, slap it down. Ooh yeah. Save a horse and ride a cowboy. Eh, you think Daddy would wear spurs for us?'

I'm freaking out, and this bastard has a whole album of songs on repeat. I was gripping the door handle so hard my knuckles were white. He barely waited for the gates to his home to open before driving through them, and I'm almost certain I saw someone sitting in a security booth or something at the gate.

The house, if you could call it that, was massive. Think the Biltmore estate or something of that caliber. Who the hell lives like this? There were flowers, I think, and a fountain, I think, and a reflective pool, maybe; how would I know?

Everything whizzed by until he came to a stop and walked around to let me out. My knees were too weak to stand, so he picked me up and carried me. I think there were people in his house, maybe a servant or something; I wasn't sure until he said, ‘Do not disturb me for any reason.'

"Marcus put me down. I can walk."

"No, this way is faster." He actually threw me over his shoulder and ran up the stairs. I don't know why that tickled me, but I couldn't help laughing. The laugh died when he walked into a bedroom that was the size of a football field or bigger and put me down next to the bed that looked like it could hold seven people easily.

"Don't be afraid." I guess I needed him to tell me that because I felt like a virgin. I thought I was going to pee myself. I was nervous, but then I noticed something that calmed me all the way down.

His hands were shaking. He was not trembling like you'd do out of fear, just a slight tremor as he reached for the button of my jacket. He was concentrating very hard, too, and that loosened up the knots in my stomach.

I watched his every move, but he never looked up from what he was doing. And as each part of my skin was revealed as he peeled back the jacket and let it drop to the floor, his jaw tightened. He damn near tore the lace camisole that he'd paid five hundred dollars for in half, and as if he couldn't wait any longer, his hand went down the front of my pants to feel me, and his lips, oh heaven.

I'd been wondering forever what his kiss would be like. But nothing prepared me for this. Have I been doing it wrong all along? How come a kiss never left me this breathless before? And his fingers, oh mercy.

They teased me through the front of my silky panties, and I keened in my throat because I wanted to feel his hand against my flesh. The kiss was wild, uninhibited. I don't recall ever being kissed like the person's life depended on it.

Does he have any idea how exhilarating this is for a woman who'd been cheated on? The way he acted, as if he couldn't get enough of my taste. "Step out." I'd been so lost I didn't even realize that he'd unzipped and unbuttoned my pants.

I did as he asked, and no sooner had I stepped out of the puddle made by my pants than there was a tearing sound in the air. I felt cool air against my bare ass. He'd ripped my panties to shreds.

Before I could say anything, I found myself being pushed back across the bed, and then my legs were pushed back to my ears, and he was just there. His mouth, his tongue, was on me, in me. I cried out and came that easily. I think he growled, and that set off sparks in my tummy.

I grabbed the sheets and then his hair when he kept licking me, driving his tongue in deep. And then his finger or his thumb, I'm not sure which, and neither do I care, it was pressing down on my clit with the slightest pressure, and I wanted more; I begged for more, but still he moved at his own pace, and I just held on for the ride.

I came with a scream when he pushed two fingers inside me and went after my sweet spot. Today was the first day I knew where mine was. And now I know why everyone goes nuts over this; it was amazing. I saw stars each time he rubbed against it, and I was sure I was dousing his bed as much as I was cumming.

He went back to lapping at my clit, and by then I was crying. Crying real tears because I wanted something, but I didn't know what that something was.

I wasn't expecting it when he rolled me over and pulled me up on my hands and knees with my toes barely hanging onto the edge of the bed. I looked back to see what he was doing; I was about to thank him for remembering a condom since I wasn't on the pill.

I'd stopped taking them after Paul left. But he wasn't doing anything of the sort. Instead, he was stroking his mammoth cock while fingering my pussy from behind. My eyes crossed, and my toes curled, and then I felt him nosing around back there and tensed up.

"Relax, baby, or this is going to hurt."

"I'm trying." My eyes widened as I felt him forcing his way in. I started to say that it was not gonna fit, but I couldn't form the words. It burned and stretched as he pushed in, and I spread my legs a little wider, then a lot, until he was halfway there.

My belly felt full. I'm not sure what sex had to do with my tummy, but that's where I felt the pressure. I tried to escape because what the fuck? But he pulled me back and tried soothing me with that shh, shh, shit. Oh, hell no.

But then the tip of his cock did a marvelous thing. He found that spot again, and it was off to the races. I humped my ass back like a wild thing, no longer afraid of the pressure or the burning sensation that was already starting to subside.

My mind was consumed with the wonderful feelings that were building again. And when he reached around and cupped my breasts, rubbing his palms across the nipples, I bucked and came, making it easy for him to slip another couple of inches in me deep.

I kept cumming, and he hadn't even moved yet, not really. He was still working on getting that snakelike thing in me, and my pussy was busy making me look bad.

I felt his hand on the back of my head, and my face was mushed into the mattress while my ass went higher in the air. That seemed to loosen up something in me, and he was able to get more of his cock in there.

I must've cum five times before he was all the way in. He was ready to start, and I was already done for. How many orgasms does he think it's safe to have?

‘Oh, hell no bitch. Get your ass up. This is just the tryouts. We ain't get the job yet. Get your ass up and hurr' up. You can do it put your back into it. You can do it put your ass into it.'

Not now, Justice, can't you see he's trying to kill me in this bed? I don't have the strength, and we just started. How the hell….? Now he's tugging on my hair.

"You're not allowed to think about anything else when I'm inside you."

"I wasn't. I didn't." Oh hell, what am I supposed to say? "I don't think it's going to fit."

"I'll make it fit." I could only nod my head or try to anyway since he still had a death grip on my hair.

‘Scalp a bitch, Daddy. Ooh baby, I like it raw.' Why is this my life?