
My Husband Wants him Too
Jason Badmus · Ongoing · 33.3k Words
Introduction
Their marriage had never been built on love. Larry agreed to the arrangement because the contract benefited Angel, promising to protect her from her ruthless stepfather. But without love, their relationship slowly deteriorated. Day by day, the distance between them grew until their marriage became little more than a ticking time bomb. Then Angel made a terrible mistake.
She cheated on Larry unintentionally. She had too much to lose. Her protection, her freedom, and the carefully constructed life she'd fought so hard to preserve were all at risk.
Desperate, she swallowed her pride and begged Larry.
“What do you want?” she asked, her voice trembling. “I'll do anything. Just name it.”
Larry stared at her for a long moment.
Then he said the one thing she never expected.
“I want him too, I want Matteo.”
Angel was visibly shocked, but Larry's expression remained unreadable.
“Marry him for me.”
Chapter 1
I gulped down the last of my wine and pushed myself away from the bar. I was tired, tipsy, and more than ready to go home. I grabbed my car keys and headed outside.
The entire drive home was filled with the fear that a police car would appear behind me for speeding or driving recklessly. To be honest, I was not really in control of myself or the car,the alcohol was. I had told myself I would stop after just one glass, but one glass became two, and two became four. Every pair of headlights in my rearview mirror made my heart skip a beat, reminding me of how easily everything could fall apart and I could end up dead in the next minute.
Thankfully, luck was on my side.
I made it safely to the neighborhood… an exclusive estate lined with identical houses, each surrounded by fancy gates and fences. Luxury cars and expensive sports cars filled the driveways, a silent reminder that everyone who lived here had money to lavish. I drove through our gate and parked in front of our home.
The two-story mansion was larger than every other house in the estate, towering over the surrounding properties like it had something to prove. I climbed out of the car and staggered inside.
Drunk and exhausted, and all I wanted was to fall into bed and sleep. I walked into our bedroom and dropped onto the mattress. Before doing anything else, I pulled out my phone and texted my husband, Larry.
“Please buy something to eat when you're coming home from work.”
I sent the message and immediately got up to draw the curtains. Sleep was all I wanted.
I pulled off my clothes, completely naked as I prepared to change into my nightwear, then opened the wardrobe.
My clothes were gone. I stared at the empty space, confused and I couldn't remember whether someone had done the laundry while I was away. Too tired and tipsy to figure it out, I closed the wardrobe and returned to the bed.
A moment later, the bathroom door creaked open. I didn't even bother to turn around.
Oh... Larry was home all along?
In my dazed and messy state, I honestly hadn't even noticed.
“I texted you. I didn't know you were home,” I said when I heard Larry enter the room.
He didn't respond. I just rolled my eyes because I was already used to his snobbish behavior, so I decided not to bother myself with it. I pulled the blanket over myself and resumed forcing my eyes shut.
The last time we had sex was more than three months ago. It was never about love between me and Larry.
Strangely, I wasn't even angry about it anymore. I had stopped expecting any form of genuine affection from him a long time ago. Somewhere along the way, intimacy had hollowed out into a quiet routine, leaving behind a cold emptiness that I had simply grown used to carrying.
I felt his hand on my shoulder and my eyes snapped open although I was still very dizzy. I remained still, my back turned toward him, trying to figure out what he was doing.
His fingers moved slowly from my shoulder down my arm, he removed the blanket. My breath seized. Larry hadn't touched me like this in months. And suddenly, sleep became the last thing on my mind. I swallowed hard, unsure whether to turn around or wait. His hand paused.
For the first time in months, my husband was touching me as though he actually wanted me. And I had no idea what had changed.
I swallowed hard, heat blooming between my legs, the words stuck in my throat.
“I’m going to put on the lights,” he whispered, his breath warm against my ear.
“No… please don’t,” I answered softly. I didn’t want to see his face. I was afraid it might ruin everything.
He settled behind me again and kissed my nape, slow and deliberate. His fingers traced a path from my shoulders down the length of my spine, then lower, cupping and squeezing my ass. He rolled me onto my stomach. I heard him shift, then felt his hands spread my ass open. His tongue slid between my cheeks and pushed inside.
A broken moan escaped me. The wet, rhythmic movement of his tongue was unlike anything I’d ever experienced, relentless, electric. He kept going, occasionally lifting his hand to slap my ass, the sharp sting only making me wetter.
Then he hooked my legs over his shoulders, holding me steady with one arm while two fingers of his free hand sank into my soaked pussy. At the same time his mouth closed over my clit, sucking hard and greedy.
“Don’t stop, please……” I whimpered, my hips pushing back against his face.
He lowered me onto my back and slid one hand between my legs, fingers sinking into my pussy and stroking me slowly. Then, without warning, he pushed his cock inside me in one smooth thrust. I whimpered at the sudden stretch, the thick heat of him filling me completely.
He moved slowly at first, taking his time, each stroke deep and measured. His mouth found mine in a messy, open kiss, tongues sliding together as he fucked me. Gradually he picked up the pace, hips snapping harder, faster. I groaned, my legs trembling beneath him as the pleasure built.
Suddenly he pulled out, flipped me onto all fours, and slapped my ass hard before driving his cock back into me in one rough thrust. The sharp sting of the slap mixed with the deep, aching stretch, distracting me just enough that the next hard strokes felt even better.
He fucked me aggressively then, relentless, my breasts swinging and bouncing with every powerful thrust. One hand went into my hair, yanking my head back as he pounded into me from behind. I moaned in pure, shameless pleasure, the sweetness of it flooding through me with every deep stroke.
This was everything he’d denied me for three months, only that it was better. The hunger was worth it.
I felt him start to tremble, his thrusts turning frantic, uneven and quicker. My whole body jolted with every deep stroke until he finally slammed into me one last time and collapsed on top of me, breathing hard against my neck.
“That’s some good pussy,” he muttered once he’d caught his breath.
I smiled, still living in the moment. “You’ve gotten better.”
He lifted his head slightly. “Have I? This is the first time I’ve ever fucked you.”
The words didn’t make sense at first.
“Wait… Larry?”
“Who are you?” His voice was suddenly sharp, alarmed.
I shoved him off me and scrambled for the light switch. The room flooded with brightness.
Lo and behold…. there was a man I had never seen in my life standing there, completely naked. His thick cock still hard and glistening, and it was nothing like Larry’s size.
“Why are you in my room?” I almost cried.
“Your room?” He looked just as confused as I felt.
Then the details hit me all at once. Our wedding photo wasn’t on the wall. My clothes weren’t in the wardrobe. Zoe’s travel bag sat in the corner instead.
“Oh, no…” I whispered, the horror sinking in.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I thought you were Zoe. I’ve barely even met her… I couldn’t tell from the voice or the body in the dark.”
He took a step toward me as tears started falling down my face.
“Don’t touch me!” I screamed.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Before either of us could move, the door swung open.
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