Contract Marriage: I've always loved you

Chapter 25 Venting My Anger On Her

Steve's P.O.V.

After wearing my bathrobe, I come to the room to open the door after having the sex best of my life in the shower.

As I open the door, I find my dad standing there.

"So, you were in the shower?" He asks with a hint of suspicion, and I try to conceal my embarrassment.

"Yes, Dad." I give him a nod.

"Then where was Grace?" He asks in a teasing tone.

I try to avoid further embarrassment, but I fail and end up blushing like a teenager, nervously rubbing the back of my neck.

"Dad..." I stammer, trying to explain.

"Don't worry. You don't have to explain. I can't believe you two are getting closer. I'm happy." He expresses his joy.

I feel sorry for him because he's misinterpreting the situation.

"Dad..."

He interrupts, "Enjoy your time with her, and there's no rush for breakfast." He leaves, not giving me a chance to respond.

Dad, it's not what you think. It's just a physical relationship. I know the separation of us in three months will hurt you the most.

Why, Grace, why did you enter our life?

Grace emerges from the bathroom, draped in a towel, and my frustration grows, knowing my dad's feelings are about to be hurt because of her.

After rushing to her, I just hold the knot of her towel and open it with force to make the towel fall to the floor.

In a swift motion, I bend her on the study table and pin her face against it before grabbing her hair with one hand and holding both of her hands behind her back.

I open the knot of my bathrobe and spread her legs with my foot before entering her from behind deeply, my grip on her hair getting tighter. She moans in pain and pleasure as I thrust into her, venting my anger on her with rough shots.

Anger has possessed me, and I don't realise what I'm doing.

I release her hands and come out of her before delivering a hard spank on one of her buttocks. She jumps in pain, my one hand still pinning her face down on the cold table.

"Grace, you're not doing right." I jab into her deeply again, grabbing her waist this time. She places her hands on the table to balance herself, trying not to fall with my hard shots.

"You're ruining everyone's life." In aggression, I continue thrusting into her, and she moans and yells in pain and pleasure.

I ram into her so hard that the table shakes under her, and her moans get even louder with each thrust. I groan in pleasure and anger, my nails digging into her skin, surely leaving marks on her body.

Even in my anger, I notice she looks so hot from behind while I'm fucking her. My attention goes to her 'I'm the fire' tattoo, and I grab her in that place.

We both climax together in the end, and I pant, falling on her. I immediately withdraw from her when I come to my senses.

I step onto the balcony without glancing at her, tying my bathrobe tightly.

Frustration courses through me as I grip the railing.

Damn! What was I doing? This isn't me. I've always been a calm person. She brings out a side of me I didn't even know existed.

I had hoped to spend these remaining months of our contract marriage in peace. No, I can't let my anger manifest like this, especially not towards her.

I need to apologise. I won't let anger define me. Because of her, I won't change who I am.