After marrying a wheelchair billionaire, ex regretted

"Fuck, Sophia. Right there." Jacob grunted, his hips slamming forward with brutal force.

"Harder, Jacob," I gasped. My nails dug into the sweat-slicked skin of his back. "Fucking harder."

He drove his cock deep inside my cunt. The wet, slapping sound of our bodies colliding echoed off the bedroom walls. The mattress squeaked in protest under his heavy weight.

He grabbed my thighs, pushing them wide open. "Look at me," he demanded.

His fingers wrapped around my throat, squeezing just enough to make my pulse pound against his palm.

I met his gaze. His eyes were dark, devoid of anything but raw lust.

"Jacob. Fuck, please."

He thrust viciously, pinning my hips down against the sheets. The thick head of his dick scraped my cervix, sending a sharp jolt of pleasure straight to my clitoris.

"You like that?" he sneered, grinding his pelvis into mine.

"Yes," I moaned, throwing my head back. "Don't stop."

He pumped in and out of my wet pussy, the friction building a raging fire in my lower belly. He didn't bother kissing me. He hadn't kissed me on the mouth in months. This wasn't making love. This was just a physical release.

"I'm going to cum," he growled, his jaw rigid.

"Fill me up," I cried out. I arched my spine, lifting my ass off the bed to take every inch of him.

"Good fucking girl." He gave three more bruising thrusts. His heavy frame shuddered violently as he unloaded his semen deep inside me.

He pulled out immediately. No lingering touch. No comforting embrace.

A thick trail of his cum spilled onto the sheets, pooling between my legs.

Jacob stood up, entirely indifferent to the mess. He grabbed his boxers from the floor and stepped into them, pulling the elastic waistband up over his hips.

"We need to get a divorce," he stated.

"What?" I stared at him. The flush of orgasm rapidly drained from my skin, replaced by a freezing numbness.

He yanked his dress shirt off the chair and shoved his arms into the sleeves. He refused to look at me.

"You heard me." He buttoned the shirt, his voice completely flat. "I'll have my lawyers draft the papers tomorrow morning."

I scrambled up, pulling the duvet over my naked breasts. My hands shook so violently I could barely grip the fabric.

"Are you out of your mind? We were just fucking. Why are you saying this right now?"

"It's just temporary," Jacob replied. He reached for his slacks. "Once I handle things, we'll remarry."

"Remarry? You want to divorce me temporarily?"

"I'll keep funding your family's business," he continued, ignoring my shock. "The accounts will receive their monthly deposits. You won't lose a dime."

I gripped the edge of the blanket. The bedroom suddenly felt like a freezer.

"Handle things?" I forced the words past the massive lump in my throat. "You mean handle Annie."

His fingers paused on his zipper. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

"Don't start this again, Sophia."

"I'm not starting anything!" I yelled. I threw the duvet aside and stood up barefoot. "You swore you were done with her. A fucking college student, Jacob? You cried in this exact room and promised me that cheap affair was over."

"It's complicated." He grabbed his tie, rolling it up and stuffing it into his pocket.

"No, it's not complicated. I know you started seeing her again a month ago," I said, my voice cracking. "I saw the texts. You swore it was a mistake the first time."

"And I told you, I have to fix this mess," Jacob said. He picked up his watch from the nightstand and strapped it to his wrist. "Her family found out. They're threatening a public scandal. A temporary divorce protects my company and your father's business."

"So you divorce your wife to appease your mistress?"

"I'm securing our assets. When the dust settles, I'll come back."

"You expect me to just sit here and wait for you?"

"I expect you to be practical," he snapped. "I just guaranteed your father's livelihood. Show some gratitude."

"You think money fixes this?" I asked, stepping closer to him. "You think buying my father's silence makes it okay to humiliate me?"

"It's a strategic move," Jacob insisted. He finally turned to face me. "If her family goes to the press, the company takes a hit. If my company takes a hit, your family's supply chain collapses. I am protecting you."

"Bullshit," I spat. "You're protecting her."

"She's twenty-one, Sophia. She doesn't know how to handle the media."

"And I do? I'm supposed to play the discarded wife so your little whore can feel safe?"

"Watch your mouth," he warned, stepping into my space.

"Or what?" I tilted my chin up, refusing to back down. "You'll divorce me? You're already doing that."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "You're being hysterical. I told you I'm coming back."

"I don't want you back."

"You don't mean that." He smirked, a cruel, confident expression. "You just begged me to fill your pussy five minutes ago. You're not going anywhere."

The truth of his words hit me like a slap. I had given him everything. My body, my loyalty, my dignity.

Hot tears spilled over my lower lashes. I wiped them away violently with the back of my hand. I refused to sob in front of him.

I turned my back to him, picking up my silk robe from the foot of the bed. I slid my arms into it and tied the sash tight around my waist.

"Get out," I whispered.

"Sophia, be reasonable."

"Get the fuck out of my house, Jacob."

He sighed, a sharp, irritated sound. He grabbed his keys from the dresser and walked out of the bedroom.

I followed him down the hallway, keeping my distance.

He opened the front door. The cool night air swept into the foyer, chilling my bare legs.

Before he even crossed the threshold, his phone vibrated in his hand. He answered it instantly.

"Hey, baby," Jacob murmured into the receiver.

The sheer tenderness in his voice felt like a physical strike. He hadn't spoken to me that way in years.

"I'm on my way," he continued, stepping out onto the porch. "Don't cry. I took care of it."

The heavy oak door slammed shut, cutting off the rest of his sickening reassurance.

I rushed to the living room window, pulling the heavy velvet curtain back just a fraction.

Jacob walked down the driveway toward his black Mercedes. His posture was entirely different now. The rigid tension in his shoulders had vanished. He smiled down at the phone in his hand, kicking a loose pebble off the pavement.

He looked like a man in love.

He looked like a man who hadn't just destroyed his marriage.

A bitter, metallic taste flooded my mouth. My chest tightened until I could barely draw oxygen into my lungs. I let the curtain fall, plunging the room back into darkness.

I leaned against the wall, sliding down the expensive wallpaper until I hit the cold hardwood floor.

I pulled my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around my shins. Ten years. I had given that man ten years of my life, only to be tossed aside the second his twenty-one-year-old mistress threw a tantrum.

My phone buzzed on the console table above my head. The sudden vibration made me jump.

I reached up blindly, my fingers scrambling over the polished wood until I grabbed the device. The bright screen illuminated the dark hallway, glaring against my tear-filled eyes.

*Dad.*

I cleared my throat, trying to iron out the massive tremor in my chest. I wiped my damp cheeks one last time and swiped right.

"Hello?"

"Sophia," my father, John, said. His voice was gravelly, serious, lacking any parental warmth.

"Hi, Dad. It's late. Is everything okay?"

A heavy silence stretched across the line. I could hear the faint sound of ice clinking in a glass on his end.

"Sophia," John finally asked, "have you thought about that matter?"