The Haunted (Sleeping with Monsters Book 1) by Cassie Alexander Page B

didn’t fight him as he
pulled her clothes off. She kicked out of her underwear and felt him lift her
up, pulling her to rest on top of him. She straddled him and his erection and felt
him slide home. She moaned as he chuckled to find her already so wet. He
thought it was all because of him, little did he know – she raised her hips and
slammed them down roughly. This had nothing to do with him. Nothing. It was all
hers and no one elses, and she would use her pussy as she saw fit.
    She
would take what she wanted from him, now, and any other time she wanted it, but
he would never have the rest of her again. She would always know, she would
always be holding a little of herself off, he would never get all of her, not
again, never.
    She
rode her frustration out on him and he groaned with every thrust, his drugged
hands reached for her shoulders, just barely hanging on as she bobbed on and
off of him. She licked the fingers of one hand and sent them seeking down to
rub herself – she was going to take her orgasm from his cock and take his
fucking cum deep inside until she’d gotten what she wanted – and after that she
would never have to touch him again.
    “My
pet – my pet –“ he started to pant as she rocked hard over him and then her
hand shuddered one final perfect time and she howled, anger and frustration
pouring out. Her hips bucked wildly, riding his cock into the ground, and he
came at this, his hands clutching her waist tight.
    Daphne
panted over him, her jaw still sore from the ghost earlier, knowing the ghost
was watching her now, watching her be with Richard as he gave her something the
ghost could not. She growled at the unfairness of everything and dismounted
him, feeling him slide limply out. She fell to the mattress and put a hand to
her belly.
    Please ,
she prayed to the darkness. Please.
    Richard
growled and rolled over to pull her close. “You were like a wild thing. I’ve
never been with anyone like you,” he whispered sleepily in her ear.
    More
than anything else, Daphne wished she could believe him.
     
    Daphne
woke next to an empty bed shortly after dawn. She blinked and sat up.
“Richard?” she said, her voice weak.
    She
got up and looked in the bathroom, no Richard, and so she quietly opened the
door to the hall.
    His
voice echoed up from the landline, clear as if she were listening in herself.
    “Don’t
you think I know that?” A pause. “I – baby – I know. I know,” he said, trying
to cut someone off. “I just need a week at home, okay? She needs some time with
me, all right?”
    Daphne
swallowed dry, wondering how the woman on the far end of the line was taking
that. Apparently not well, judging by how long the pause was.
    “Don’t
be like that,” Richard said, sounding offended.
    Daphne
rolled her eyes. At least he wasn’t only a jerk to her.
    A
longer pause, and then the sound of a manly purr. “No. She’s asleep now. I want
to know. Tell me…”
    No
matter that his dick still smelled like her, and that she still leaked his cum.
She ground her teeth together. Go down there now and snap the phone from his
hand? Use the cord to garrote him?
    But
if he were dead, or they broke up…no house, and no baby. Goddammit. Why
couldn’t this be easy? Why should she have to choose?
    The
sound of a lawnmower began in the distance, and she blinked. That was right,
Jason and his crew were back, getting an early start on all the acreage.
    She
pulled back from the doorway, Richard’s death on her mind, and forced herself
to be calm. She’d wait until he was done, until he tried to sneak back into bed
– and then confront him. Tell him everything she knew, Tokyo, Becca, whoever it
was that he was talking to now.
    She
strode over to the window, and peeked out through the curtain. Jason was
striding across the yard, hedge clippers in hand.
    Before
she could think about it twice, she knocked on the glass.
    He
stopped, looking up at her. He squinted, and then waved. Daphne, covered