Leandro's Revenge

Isabelle moaned as the man — whose name she’d already forgotten — suckled her breast. Her toes curled and her moans became louder as he reached for the spot in between her legs. Arching her back, she circled her arms around the man’s nape. Damn. She thought. She didn’t want to go this far. She cringed at the feel of his fingers against her flesh but pretended she was enjoying it. What’s taking Leandro so long? She thought in irritation. If he didn’t show up at any minute, she would scratch this man’s balls. “Is this how you welcome your husband?” Leandro’s voice resounded from the doorway. The corner of her mouth twitched when she finally heard the familiar voice. Thank goodness, the man quickly got off of her and off the couch where he had stripped her off, leaving only a piece of her panties. She propped herself on both elbows. With her breasts exposed, she grinned at her husband. “I’m sorry, husband. I forgot it’s your release day.” “Husband?” The man’s voice trembled, looking at Leandro. “I’m sorry, man. I… I didn’t know. She said… she said… she’s single.” He picked up his clothes and put on his pants with shaky fingers. Ignoring the other man, Leandro asked Isabelle, “Did you spend four years of your life like this? Was it fun?” he made his way to the living room, clad in a plain white shirt and jeans with tattooed arms on display, his face was stoic. Isabelle rolled her eyes and stood up. “Yes, I enjoyed it. Very much.” She went to the kitchen, not sparing the man another glance as he nervously made his way to the door, making sure not to step too close near her husband. “Oh, please! Just get out! He won’t hurt you.” She said in irritation. “He’s not capable of any emotion.” She mocked, making her way toward the fridge. She took out a bottle of wine and uncorked it. Trying so hard to act as calm as she could, she drank straight from the bottle. The sight of her husband after four years was too much for her to bear. She hated him and yet, a part of her missed him. A lump in her throat formed and she blinked back the tears that started to form. Leandro followed and watched her darkly as he leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen doorway. The door shut in the living room, an indication that the poor man was finally out of the house. She finished half of the bottle and made her way toward her husband. Stopping in front of him, she tiptoed and pressed her lips against his. Leandro quickly caught her shoulders and kept her at bay, obviously disgusted with her. “Didn’t you miss me?” she slurred, a trace of mockery in her tone. Leandro’s jaw clenched, watching her flushed face. “Go to bed.” She stepped away from him, gulped the wine down before asking, “How’s life in jail?” “Don’t f*****g start.” She grimaced. “Why? Are you angry with me? It’s not like it’s my fault.” “It’s your fault.” She looked at him in confusion. “Why is it my fault?” He turned his back on her and made his way upstairs. Placing the bottle on the dining table, she followed him upstairs to his bedroom and watched him under hooded eyes as he stripped his clothes off. She willed herself not to drool at the sight of her husband and try to focus on the discussion at hand. “Please sign the divorce papers,” she quietly said. “It’s been years since I brought up the subject. It’s in your study room.” He turned, presenting her the view of his lean muscular abs and chest. He sat down, veins popped in his arms as he removed his shoes and socks. When he stood up from the bed with only his trousers on, she swallowed as she eyed the v line of his hips. Focus Isabelle! You hate him! She snapped at herself. “I’m not signing it.” She blinked rapidly. “W-what? Why?” “I don’t want a divorce.” “Oh, please! I don’t want to stay in this marriage for the rest of my life. I’m sure you want your freedom back too.” “Let’s give our marriage a try.” There was a momentary silence in the room. Isabelle watched him for a while. “You’re not serious.” “Move into my room. If we want this marriage to work, we need to sleep in the same bed.” “We?” she stared back at her husband. What changed? She knew he hated her. He avoided her like the plague and bawled at the idea of being near her. He even refused to see her when he was imprisoned. Four years, she had never seen even his shadow. Until now, she did not know the reason behind his refusal to see her. And yet, now, he wanted to sleep with her. “What are you up to?” she crossed her arms and eyed him suspiciously. Her heart pounded against her chest with the prospect of sleeping next to him again. “You never liked the idea of being near me. In fact, you hated my very existence.” The hurt in her voice was clear hurt, but she hoped she managed to hide it somehow. Isabelle had thought of it before. She was not bad looking. Some people said she was attractive — brunette, cat-like pale-blue eyes with streaks of gold and gray, a full lower lip, and a body that many envied. Nevertheless, her husband wanted nothing to do with her. Except for nights, he wanted s*x. But she wanted more. She did not want meaningless s*x. She wanted intimacy, care, devotion, and love. And that was something Leandro failed to provide. “I’m not up to something.” “Are you fine when your wife sleeps around? You saw me earlier.” “I don’t care. I care for my family name very much and I’m not a fool to make another scandal and soil our family name again.” “Too bad, everyone knows about you being in jail.” His jaw ticked and the sight pleased her secretly. She kept her expression neutral. Leandro never showed emotion in front of anyone and, most of the time, it annoyed her. Sometimes, she wondered if the man had a heart. If he did, she wondered if it was frozen. “Don’t you dare bring up the subject again or I’ll choke you.” “I’d love that. You, choking me while f*****g me.” she said playfully, closing her eyes as if imagining it in her mind while biting her lip. All for the purpose of annoying him. She enjoyed teasing him, but most of the time, it was her who ended up being disappointed as it only made him avoid her more. Leandro crossed the room and backed Isabelle to the door, imprisoning her. “Don’t f**k with me, Isabelle.” Quickly recovering from shock, she asked, “Why not, husband? Don’t you want to have a taste of your wife again?” she asked, smirking before she brushed her hair away that was covering her breasts. The corners of her mouth twitched in triumph as she watched him eye her bare chest. His expression darkened and when he lifted his gaze to meet hers, there was lust in his eyes. Then, he glanced down her parted lips and she stopped breathing. She curled her hands to prevent herself from reaching out and running her palms along his taut muscles. Had he been working out in jail? His body was obviously a lot bigger than the last time she saw him naked. He moved closer, his warm breath fanned her ears as he whispered, “Who am I to refuse? After all, I’ve been deprived for four years.” He closed his mouth around her earlobe, and she gasped in surprise but at the same time almost purred at the sensation. He drew back slightly, his eyes fixated on her, watching her reaction as he reached down and caressed her thigh. Unable to fight anymore, she sighed, the touch giving her goosebumps and sent the butterflies in her stomach fluttering. His free hand circled her waist. He hoisted her up and, instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist. His mouth trailed wet kisses from her jaw, down her throat and back up to her ear. Meanwhile, his hips began their lazy torturous movement against her, each thrust sent her spiraling and gasping for air. Not long, his mouth travelled down her shoulder blades and found its way to her hardened breast. Much to her shame, she moaned wantonly. “Is this how he f****d you?”