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  Angry Sex © March 2012 by Sommer Marsden

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

  This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be access by minors.

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  Cover design © 2012 Willsin Rowe

  First Edition March 2012

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  Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Angry Sex

  By Sommer Marsden

  Dedication:

  For the man. I love you. Forever and ever. Amen.

  Acknowledgements:

  Thanks to my masterful cover artist Willsin Rowe, saver of my ass Kiki Howell and fabulous beta reader Stacey Price. And of course all my readers who signed up to read an odd little book about angry sex turning into something more.

  Chapter One

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Watkins, but the flare up isn’t permanent. I’m almost sure of it. Most likely growing, hormones and all that stuff that comes with growing up.” The doctor smiled at her but the last thing Luna could comprehend was a smile.

  “So, he’s…”

  “Just going to need time and rest and to let it pass. The meds will help some. But he hates the meds.”

  Luna nodded. “I know.”

  “And it needs to be his decision. He’s fifteen now. Old enough to decide. The meds aren’t—“

  “I know,” Luna sighed. “They’re not mandatory.”

  She thanked Doctor Roman and collected Nick from the waiting room. He’d chosen to wear the patch to tame his random muscle movements today. So to the casual observer he was just another average, slouching teen with ear buds in his ears.

  “Hey, kiddo.”

  “Mamma,” he said in his best cheesy voice. “What’s the doctor say, rotten to the core?” Her heart clenched. His good humor was his earmark and he kept that wit up even when he was down, which being his mother, Luna could see he truly was.

  “You know it. Rotten through and through. No hope for you.” He took her hand and squeezed. She felt the small tremors there and her stomach rolled over.

  When’s the last thing you ate, genius? Dinner last night?

  “Wanna grab some food?” she asked him as they headed to the car.

  “Let me guess. You’re running on nothing but java.”

  She grinned at him, clicking the button to unlock the car. “Busted.”

  “Mother, mother, mother…” He climbed in and buckled his seatbelt. “You’ll stunt your growth.”

  “Food or no food?”

  “Food. And you know what I’m going to say…”

  She managed an almost genuine laugh as she started the car. “Mexican.”

  “Muy caliente!”

  This sucks…

  Luna chewed the inside of her lips to keep herself in check. She couldn’t cry in front of Nick. If she cried he would think she’d given up hope. Or caved to fear. She wanted nothing like that in his head while they tried to get this under control again. The meds made him moody and tired, and the involuntary movements of his body when he didn’t take the meds pretty much did the same. She needed to be strong and calm for him. Even if it wasn’t how she felt.

  Inside, all she really felt was rage but she tamped it down and tried to remember to be grateful for something. School was over as of today and he wouldn’t have to deal with school and the movement disorder all at once. He had the summer to get past this hurdle…or learn to manage it better. She tried to remember that if this time followed the last, he’d be ready to wean himself off the meds by the time he finally got used to them. The tics flared and receded—an unpredictable wave that just added to the random nature of adolescence.

  Nick patted her leg and she snapped to. “I’m ready,” she said, forcing humor into her tone. “Bring me something muy caliente…and then some muy strong antacids.”

  * * * * *

  “What do you mean he’s had a relapse?”

  Luna stared at Ben and literally bit her tongue. Her ex was a good man and a good dad and she couldn’t take her issues out on him. He had enough on his plate.

  “Just what I said, Ben. The doctor feels it will pass. He thinks it’s growth spurts and all that stuff that comes from becoming a young man. But it doesn’t make it any less hard on him.” Ben dropped into an easy chair and ran a hand through his hair. He’d brought her child support though she knew it was hard on him. He’d lost his job as a sales manager months before and he had to scrimp up the money to pay her. She was tempted to give it back but knew him well enough to know it would be like a shot to the gut for her to offer.

  She put the check on the table.

  “Where is he?”

  “Out with Tom and his family. They went to see some outdoor movie at the park.” Ben’s face was hard to read. He’d often worried excessively when the movement disorder had started years before. Any time Nick was out of the house he worried he was being watched or bullied or teased. She saw that old struggle flit across his face and knew exactly how he felt.

  She went to him, put a hand on his shoulder. “He’s a good kid. Smart and funny and he can handle himself. We’ve done a good job…” She sighed, trying to believe her own words.

  “Now we need to let him handle himself. If he’s out and doing his thing that’s good. That is a perfectly natural teenager thing to do.”

  Ben gave her a wry grin. His eyes were shiny and she knew he could probably easily cry.

  Except she was watching him.

  Luna dropped to her knees and wedged herself between his thighs the way she used to when she needed him to see her sincerity. “He will be fine.”

  “Do you believe it?”

  He touched her face. Ran a single fingertip along the jutting line of her cheekbone. She’d been eating horribly when she did remember to eat. That cheekbone was a bit more prominent than usual. She shut her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to feel the goodness of his touch. It had been a long time since a man had touched her that way.

  “I do,” she said.

  “Really?”

  His finger pushed against her lower lip and when she answered, his fingertip touched her tongue for a split second.

  “No. But I think I’m wrong. I didn’t believe it would pass last time and then we had years of…nothing.”

  “Are you pissed?” Ben asked, his voice husky and grating.

  “Beyond words,” she admitted and that’s when the first rogue tear broke free of her lower lid. She tried to bite her lip and swallow to stave them off but failed.

  Ben wiped them away one by one as they fell.

  “I can’t fix this. It drives me crazy,” he said. Watching he
r. His voice soft and his eyes a mixture of frustration and empathy.

  “Me too.”

  “I want to hit someone.”

  “Me too.”

  “I need…something…” he sighed.

  And she kissed him. It was her. She knew it. She felt the urge and decided what the fuck, throwing herself fully into the overwhelming impulse.

  “I know what you need.” She said it against his throat, feeling the bite of stubble there that she remembered so well. How it would chafe at her when they kissed—when they fucked.

  “Luna,” he said.

  But she could hear in his voice that he’d cave if she pushed him. She pushed him. Putting her hand between his legs and curling her fingers to the semi-hard ridge of his cock. He still had on painter’s pants from his temporary painting job with a friend. Ben made a noise in his throat.

  She felt it rumble out of him as she kissed him again, pushing her body more firmly between his thighs.

  “We both need it. We have the house. It would be good,” she said.

  That was all it took. His big hands—hands that had held her, held their son when he was born—cupped the back of her head and the small of her back and he kissed her. His tongue rough and demanding against hers. His grip hard.

  When he shifted to a gentler touch, she felt anxiety flutter in her belly. “Harder. Don’t be gentle.”

  Luna pushed her hands in his hair, tugging the short dark pieces so roughly he grunted.

  Her body smashed to the front of his, she shoved her hand in his pants, trying to free him. Ben knocked her hand away and took care of his belt, button and zipper.

  “Luna. We don’t have to—“

  “Don’t be nice to me,” she whispered, tears she refused to shed pricking her eyes. She knew the door was not only locked, but the chain was on too. If anyone showed up early, she’d need to go and undo the chain lock to let them in. “Don’t. Please.” That was all she allowed herself to say. She wouldn’t cry. Luna pushed her face between his thighs smelling the familiar and once beloved smell of him. Musky warm man with an accent of soap and today, paint. She sucked the tip of his cock into her mouth, rolling her tongue along the glans as she felt his thighs go tense beneath her. Her breasts crushed to his lap. Ben buried his hands in her shoulder length hair, tugging enough to make her see little faux dots of light behind her closed lids.

  She impaled her mouth on him, her throat clenching a little as she went lower. And she relished it, sucking air hungrily through her nose as she went down on him. Feeling his body go rigid, hearing his breathing change. She sucked along his length, hard, almost too hard—she knew how he liked it. Luna pulled free to suck his balls into her mouth, gently, one at a time so that he tugged her hair again.

  “I want you,” he growled.

  Luna nodded, not speaking—she didn’t trust herself to speak—and pushed her lips back down his shaft again, keeping them pressed to the tissue thin skin as she went. Ben jerked up, yanking her hair harder.

  “Don’t. No more. I don’t want to come this way,” he whispered. “It’s been too long for us.”

  Another sparkling tug of emotion in her throat and she drew her tongue up the back of his cock, tracing that vein so he shuddered.

  His mouth was brutal on hers as he kissed her and Ben knew how much she could take.

  He was the only person feeling anything close to the rage and the pain and the confusion she felt at this moment in time. She let go and let him do his thing.

  He pushed her. She fell back on the rug in the small study. Lifted her hips up when he pulled at her jeans. She went boneless and still, surrendered when he buried his face between her legs. His seeking warm lips lapping at her, blissfully slick tongue teasing her. Her legs were limp, her heart too. He shoved a thick bundle of fingers into her cunt and curled them just so.

  Ben knew her body almost as well as she did, and just that small motion coupled with the heated tug of him sucking her clit did her in. She came, grasping restlessly at the carpet and moving under his mouth like she was trying to get away.

  But she wasn’t.

  She wanted this more than she could explain. Luna felt inarticulate in the face of her great and clawing need.

  “Roll over.” Ben grated out the words but simultaneously flipped her.

  Luna landed on her belly with an ooph and a small laugh. He hiked her hips up high, his touch insistent. The cool kiss of air on her ass her, her cunt, was blissful. Luna heard herself sigh.

  She chewed her bottom lip as Ben stroked her ass, he touched her just so, made her feel just so, and she wondered if he’d—

  The first blow was like a firecracker exploding in her tiny house. She cried out, gasped and then hummed low in her throat. The pain was what she needed. The bite of the blow on her tender skin, the lightning strike suddenness of it—the heat in her flesh that bled into a pulsing pleasure in her pussy.

  He hit her again, and her body rocked with it. Ben wasn’t warming up or taking it slow, he was jumping right in with the hard smacks that made her yelp as if he was scalding her. Fire bloomed and bled beneath her skin. When he pushed his thick fingers into her, she hung her head, swaying slightly on her knees.

  “Fucking unbelievably wet. I didn’t know if you still liked that stuff, Loo.” She laughed. It was a bit bitter, that laugh. Thank God for ex husbands who knew you—

  who could tell what you needed. What she needed was this. Angry sex. Release. A bit of rough and tumble.

  She said nothing but pushed her body back against his seeking fingers. The motion drove him deeper and snapped his self-control. He smacked her once more and then thrust that wet finger into her asshole. She bucked a little as the sharp teeth of pain sank into her, but then the tight ring of muscles let up some and it was good. The pressure there accompanied by his penetration. Ben pushed the tip of is cock to her wet hole, teased her for a moment so she gasped, and then drove himself forward with great control.

  An inch at a time, he entered, all the while thrusting his finger into her anus, making her feel the friction of his body invading hers in not one place…but two.

  “It’s not fair,” he whispered in her ear. His breath hot on the back of her neck as he rode her. He buried his hand in her hair and yanked.

  Luna came. Her eyes shut tight against the pain in her scalp. Fire rolled through her belly and pleasure bloomed in her cunt. The flex and spasm of release filled her pelvis and she bucked under him, still feeling the intrusive but decadent feel of his finger in her bottom. Before she could fully embrace it, he pulled his finger free leaving her on edge once again.

  “Good girl.” He smoothed his hands along her lower back and then touched the tender skin he’d just spanked into a quilt of welted heat.

  These were the moments she wondered why they weren’t together. Why it hadn’t worked. He could do the things she needed without her explaining. But the bottom line was the stress of Ben’s disorder, of money, of her career—of them changing and growing, somehow leaving each other behind—had killed their marriage.

  But he was still there when she needed him, on all levels, and she found that suddenly huge and humbling.

  A sob ripped out of her and then a sharp lancet of anger followed close behind. Luna hung her head and shoved back to drive him deeper. It was an aggressive and irate motion but served its purpose because Ben gripped her hips in that way he did when he was desperately trying to hold on.

  In that moment, she did to him what he’d just done to her. She told him the truth. Gave him what he needed. She still loved him on many levels and always would. If she couldn’t give him what he needed, who would?

  Luna gripped her internal muscles up tight, increasing the friction of their fucking, so she felt another light and airy tickling of impending orgasm. Her clench didn’t go unnoticed and he sighed. She clenched again and then softly, “You’re a good man, Benjamin. One of the best.” It was a flurry of desperate thrusts, then he reached under her to pluck and
pinch her clit, and then her words did him in. He came with a sound that made her chest tight with emotion.

  And she came with him, thankful to whatever benevolent god had seen fit to carve out these few moments of solace for them.

  Chapter Two

  Luna made him dinner. It was the least she could do. She needed to care for someone or something and Nick had called to say they’d be late. It had been easy to fake a breezy voice, harder to tamp down the worry eating at her gut.

  So she made them a spinach, garlic, and parmesan omelet and some hash browns. A nice cold Riesling and she and her ex sat and ate like civilized human beings.

  “You didn’t have to feed me,” he grunted appreciatively.

  Luna laughed, sipping her wine and watching him. Her appetite had tanked once the muscle movements and contractions had started again for Nick. She found that a few bites of food did her just fine, any more and she felt sick. Since cooking still comforted her, it was easy to want to overbook catering events to help her cope with the worry and stress.

  “Looks like your stomach disagrees with you.” She touched his hand and he looked up, startled. “Thanks,” she said.

  Ben grinned. “Thank you. That is one place we never had issues, did we, Loo?”

  “Don’t call me Loo,” she scolded. But secretly she loved it. Ben was the only person to ever give her a nickname and it had been her pet name all through their marriage.

  “You love it.”

  She poured him more wine, “How goes the job hunt?”

  He grimaced. “Awful. None of the places that once wooed me are even hiring any more.

  Even their sales people who’ve been with companies from day one are facing cuts, lay offs, downsizing. Hard to sell things when people aren’t buying things.” She nodded. “You know I always need—“

  He held up a hand after pushing the final bite of omelet into his mouth. “Don’t. I love you for asking…”

  She bristled, and he put his hand on hers. “Hell, Loo, I still love you period. But we did the right thing. We were like oil and water. Or better yet, gasoline and a match, by the time we split. But I do love you and I adore you for asking. But I can’t be a waiter.” She snorted. “Server.”