Page 18 of When Sinners Hate

“Because I was enjoying another man’s company?”

“Because you were behaving like a whore.”

She walks away from me towards a table full of Champagne and lifts a full glass, swilling it down with apparent little care for etiquette. “Well, maybe that’s because you treat me like one. And I suppose if we’re being honest, husband, I am one in some ways, aren’t I? Although, I’ve yet to receive any form of payment in kind, beside the name I get the pleasure of using.” She walks off again, no sign of the drunk woman of a moment ago. She barely gives me a backwards glance. “Perhaps if you showed any reaction to me at all, I wouldn’t have to go looking for it elsewhere.”

I follow. “That isn’t what this is.”

She looks at the ring on her finger as she wanders to the terrace and view, and then glances at my hand for themirroring image of gold. “Maybe not, but you could try to show me you’re interested. There's barely any makeup on my face, at your request. No red to stain my lips. And everything else here has been at your request.” She takes another sip and glares at me. “I’m wearing my wedding dress, for God’s sake. I don’t even know if you like that.”

“Why would you care if I like it or not?”

“I don’t, but at least here, with all these people, I get a chance to say what I want without having to catch my tongue.” A few people walk by, enjoying their time, so I wait for more to leave her mouth. “I thought things would improve, but you’ve been like a block of fucking ice all day, Abel. Is there nothing I do that pleases you?”

“Lower your voice.”

“Why?” she looks around at the guests, barely containing whatever fury she’s harbouring. “Maybe I should shout loud enough so that everyone knows what you’re really like. Even you wouldn’t dare hit me in front of my father.”

“I would. Be careful.” I grab hold of her arm and lead her further away from the noise, ducking us under a veil of roses until we’re in a dark, secluded area. “This isn't the kind of behaviour I welcome.”

“Can’t you do anything without hurting me!” she spits, attempting to snatch her arm away. “You’re an animal.” I hold tighter and pull her closer, pushing one arm up behind her back until she’s face to face with a tree. “Can’t you behave like a gentleman for one day!”

“Yes, I'm perfectly capable of acting like a gentleman when someone deserves it.” I press onto her back, holding her square against the surface of the bark. She pants and tries fighting her way out again, waving her free hand around to get to my face. “But you're right, I am an animal, Alexia. And you keep goading me.” My free hand reaches down and grabs the bottomof the dress, fingers trailing up her leg until I’ve got a handful of ass in my grip. “Do you need to be satisfied again?” Because, annoyingly, my dick does.

“What? No. Not here. I–”

“I think it's time for my conjugal rights.” She stills instantly and shivers, trembling in wait. “You are my wife, after all. Put your hand on the tree. Now.” It wavers in my view for a few seconds. “Put it on the fucking tree and I might go easy on you.” I pull off her pinned arm the second she does, and reach down to get more of the dress out of the way. “Is this what you want? My dick inside you?” She stays perfectly still, but slowly rounds her neck so she’s looking at me. “You don’t get my face as well. Turn away and stay quiet.”

I rub on her ass, pushing the material of the dress out of the way so I can get past it and the lingerie. She moans the moment my dick lands on her skin and starts behaving like she should. I watch her hand flex as I run my dick down to her cunt, watch the nails dig into the tree. Gold fucking rings. My own hand crawls up her arm until it’s covering hers, and before I know it, I’m sinking inside her and groaning at the sensation.

It’s a haze of fucking after that. I can barely find my way through enjoying it. I’m rough, and without sentiment, but something about the feel of her in my hands and the taste of her neck on my lips is tantalising me past sense. My drives get deeper, and the pressure in my dick grows. At some point, I feel her fingers gripping mine as I grate on her with my teeth. She’s angling up for me, trying to give me deeper access, and I take it with every next drive inwards.

My hand grips her hip and then moves up to her breasts to push one out of the corset. She can’t contain the pants and moans then, and she keeps her face staring at the tree as I asked for. Everything’s manic. Nothing’s stayed or controlled like I normally am. I fuck like I’ve not fucked for years, and I makesure to pull every last second of it out until I’m done and she’s whimpering.

Cum pours out of me into her, and I bite down hard on her shoulder to give her a piece of that feeling back. I pull her hand in the same breath and push them down between her legs. The rings tangle and clink, reminding us both of what's happened today. “Remember who this belongs to now,” I snarl. Her legs widen, and I swallow at the sensation it all creates. It’s the first time I’ve felt connected to a woman in years. Maybe it is full of hate and cruelty, but it’s something to feel. And that, together with these damn rings on our fingers, sends me straight back to the cold-hearted animal I am.

I pull out of her without any other thought and leave her standing there against the tree. Ass exposed in the dark. Cunt on display. Fine dress, all crumpled and covered in dirt and cum. I snort at the vision and put my dick away as she turns to look back at me. That gaze could be filled with venom, or regret, or perhaps surprise. I don't know, but whichever sentiment it is, I still reach for my wallet the moment I’m back to calm and controlled.

The new black AMEX gets flicked at the ground next to her feet. “Payment.” She looks at it in the scuffed-up ground, then back up at me. “For the fucking, Alexia. You’re right, you are a whore. I suppose you need paying for your position from now on. Perhaps you can earn my face next time.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

ALEXIA

Istare down at the plastic he thinks I’m worth, cross my arms over my chest and wait.

“Pick it up.” Abel’s command is clear, but I refuse.

This is not who I am. I won’t grovel on the floor for handouts. He might have bullied me and left me questioning my position in this plan – in this relationship – but I am an Ortega, married to a Cortez, and I won’t cower any longer. Certainly not after it’s clear that he isn’t as unaffected by me as he plays out.

“No.”

“What?”

“You heard. I don’t need your money despite you treating me like your little whore. You know, I didn’t expect that from you, and it caught me off guard, but I won’t be your plaything. You can’t pick me up when you want, get off on me and then lock me away. This is a relationship, if only in a business sense, and while I don’t expect you to treat me as a real wife, I fucking deserve some respect. Especially after all the fucked-up shit you’ve given me.”

I ignore the cum seeping through the lace panties and down my leg and pull my dress back into position the best I can. I’m sure the bite mark will be noticeable, but I can either laugh it off or hide. Not that I’m not doing that on my wedding day. I’m done being pushed around, especially in front of my father.

“I thought that finding a way to please you might help us both tolerate the situation. Well, I’m through playing nice.”