Chapter 23

"That's right, Kitten, that's right," He was kissing everywhere except her face, refusing to give her that affection. No. Not after she had purposefully ripped out his heart and stomped on it. "NOBODY fucks you like I do, and NOBODY ever will!" He pulled away from her, hands moving her, repositioning her until she was kneeling with her beautiful backside in his line of vision. Jon took aim and delivered several slaps to each cheek, mildly pleased when he saw the cherry red. "Say it, Tressa," He leaned over her, nipping at her shoulder as one hand fisted in her hair, pulling her head back. "Go on, tell me how much you want my dick, how much you want to USE my dick!"

Her pussy quivered, along with the rest of her body, because it'd been nearly 2 months without him, without any kind of intimacy. She cried out at the sting of her backside and then felt his fingers rip her up by her hair, making her hiss out in both pain and pleasure. "I-I want your dick more than the a-air I breathe, Daddy…" She choked out, her face a mess of tears, and felt his hand move from her hair to her throat, clutching it, but not to the point of cutting off her oxygen. Not completely anyway. "Fuck me, Jon, god please fuck me! I need your dick!" She shrieked out when he drove back inside of her full force, pretty sure he had hit her back wall and kept her right where he wanted her.

Jon knew it wasn't possible to plow through her, but damned if he didn't want to try. She deserved it, and if she was feeling any pain from this, the way she screamed at him to give her MORE, was not telling him anything other than to give her more. "Damn right!" He slapped her cherry-red backside again, alternating cheeks even as he slammed into her repeatedly. "You NEED this dick, remember that," Because he was considering denying her out of sheer spite, the consideration died as he felt her pussy clenching down on him. "And ONLY this dick!"

It did not take long for Tressa to reach her end, not after going as long as she had without any sex. If it wasn't with Jon, she refused to do it with anyone else. That was just how Tressa was. Her walls clenched tightly around his dick, milking and wrapping him in a tight, warm, wet cocoon, almost to the point of suffocating him.

"JON!" She shrieked out, fresh hot tears streaming down her cheeks, and felt that hand on her throat tighten, cutting off some oxygen, which made her GUSH around him even more intensely.

"You got more than that in you, Tres!" He cooed darkly in her ear, knowing damn well she did.

Her body was STARVED for attention and her pussy was threatening to break him in half. His own body was informing him that it had been a while for him as well, but Jon wasn't having it. He WOULD get another orgasm out of her before he succumbed to his own. Pulling out of her abruptly, he didn't give her much time to do anything other than pant for oxygen, pulling her until she was straddling him and impaling her quivering body again.

"Ride me, Kitten." His hands moved to palm her probably sore ass, urging her on. "Use me."

"Goddamn it, Jon!"

Tressa raked her nails down his chest, leaving gouges in his skin, and didn't care because he was angering her. How did they go from yelling at each other to having angry sex? She should have hopped off his dick and sent him packing, but this felt too good to pull away from. Addiction was a bitch! Riding him like a stallion, Tressa raked her nails down his arms next and covered his hands with hers on his hips, beginning to bounce on and off his cock. Her head lulled back, eyes closed, and let the ecstasy sweep her away, her breasts bouncing, gasping as Jon snapped his hips repeatedly to drive deeper, harder and faster inside of her.

"That's right, darlin'…" He rumbled, his own breathing coming in harsh pants.

His darkened eyes were fastened on her breasts bouncing with every move from her overworked body. If Tressa really hadn't wanted this, she would have found a way to stop him, that's just how she was. Yet here they were, she was riding his cock like she had been starved for it. Jon gritted his teeth, feeling his balls tightening, surges of what was definitely going to be an explosion beginning to sweep throughout his body.

Suddenly, he bolted upright and took control, forcing her legs to wrap completely around his waist, their eyes locked. Tressa pressed her forehead against his, feeling him piston in and out of her, and dug her nails deeply into his shoulders. That explosion arrived and it seared through every part of her lower extremities, forcing her body to climax yet again. It was both pain and pleasure mixed, and Tressa screamed out his name hoarsely, fresh tears streaming down her streaked cheeks as she tossed her head back. Those nails left half-moon crescents in his skin and she shuddered, quaked, against him from both of their climaxes colliding together. Her body was coated in a glistening sweat, her hair still damp from the bath she'd had prior to Jon showing up out of the blue.

Jon sank his teeth right into the fleshy part of her skin where her neck met shoulder, leaving his own deep, definitely going to bruise, mark on her. If she decided to boot him out of her life after this, she was going to have a reminder for a week or so that she hadn't done it without using him one last time. Tossing his own head back, he grabbed her hips and held her down against him, sinking himself into her receptive, tired body one last time before exploding in her. Tressa cried out against his neck and glided her nails down his back, leaving scratch marks all over him. He would not be able to wrestle without a shirt on for at least a week. Jon growled, his cock still sputtering inside of her until it finally went limp, leaving her body.

"Are you happy now?" She muttered, once she caught her breath and managed to get her heart rate back to a normal pace, lifting her face to meet his eyes. "Are you happy that I used you again, Jon?" Because that was all she did, exactly what he wanted and it shattered her heart into a million pieces.

It was why she couldn't stop crying because this wasn't sex between two best friends – this was angry, barbaric sex between two people who felt differently about each other. Jon loved her and wanted her to be alive with him, but Tressa's devotion to Joseph and their marriage was a hard egg to crack. Taking off her ring had to be HER decision and she would not be influenced or pushed into it before she was ready.

"The more you push me to take this off," She held her hand up to him, that diamond rock still on her finger. "The more you're going to push me away, Jon. It hasn't even been a year yet and you want me to just move on from him? I can't do that. I WON'T do that." Swinging her leg over, Tressa got off him while he lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, and snatched the cotton robe the hotel room came complimentary with, wrapping herself in it. "Thanks for the hardcore fuck, you can leave now."

"Physically, you left him a long time ago, Tressa," It was cold, but truthful. Snorting, Jon swung himself out of the bed and stood up on slightly trembling legs. He began redressing, ignoring the sting of sweat getting into those gouges she had left on him. "Is it really Joseph holding you back or is it some misplaced notion that you HAVE to be the grieving widow? That you're not SUPPOSED to move on? Because both are copouts." Jon knew he was pounding that nail himself, but he couldn't stop himself either.

Sex was just sex.

She was only human and craved intimacy like every other human being on the planet! Yet, she was being verbally castrated for it! "What part of 'I'm not ready' do you not understand, Jonathan?! What part of 'I can't take this ring off because I'M NOT READY' do you NOT get?! Do you want me to learn a different language and say it that way?! There are NO copouts about this! It's JUST sex between us and that's all it's ever been! You knew what this was going into it and it's not MY fault you allowed feelings to come into it! I AM a grieving widow, it's not a fucking act, you dickhead!" She picked up the pillow off the bed and whacked him with it, scowling darkly. "And I will never move on because my heart is in that grave with my husband! He took it with him, don't you get it? I told you from the beginning this is ALL I can give you and you said fine, we'll be best friends with benefits! We'll ALWAYS be best friends, your words!" Another whack, this time harder. "YOU LIED TO ME!"

"No, you're still my friend," Jon caught that pillow and flung it away before Tressa could nail him again. He yanked her into his arms, giving her another brutal kiss before letting her reel away. "And I will always call you my friend, but right now, darlin', friendship isn't enough." And that was on him. "When you're ready to climb out of the grave, you let me know." And then he was gone, leaving her with a tear-stained face and tender body parts, in almost the same condition himself.

He was an idiot, but at least he could say he was an honest idiot.

How could they be friends after THIS? How?! Tressa took the pillow off the bed and screamed as hard as she could into it until her vocal cords strained and soaked it with more tears. Jon loved her…and she loved him, but she was terrified of taking that step with him. She was terrified to love another man besides her husband and clutched her left hand to her chest again, her heart feeling as though it was being torn in two different directions. Curling up in a tight ball, Tressa cried herself to sleep clutching the pillow, longing to feel Jon's arms around her, and instead had a nightmare of the morning she found her husband dead.

Needless to say, Tressa had a rough night.

Jon hadn't fared any better.

He had to drag himself to sleep for the first time in a long while. Jon had actually gone out and bought sleep aid just for that purpose. He felt a myriad of emotions warring within him. He had wanted Tressa for years now, and had curbed all that and just been her friend because she had been married. Jon wasn't sure how mourning worked, he also knew however that one couldn't force the heart into something it didn't want, no matter how much one was pushed. He had pushed, hard. Probably ruined their relationship, their friendship. That had definitely kept him up. The very last thing Jon wanted to do was lose his best friend, the woman he loved, and yet last night…he had done just that and wasn't sure if they would be able to bounce back from it.

After the house show the next night, Tressa didn't go back to the hotel.

She was tired of the lonely nights spent cooped up and decided tonight, she was going out. Jon could go to hell, for all she cared, especially after the horrible things he said to her the previous night. That was her anger talking and she knew it. Tressa dolled herself up, wearing a one-piece long-sleeved black cocktail dress since she had to hide the hideous mark Jon left on her. It was a deep purple and blue shade at the moment, and she had covered it with concealer, but decided long-sleeved was the way to go.

The dress rested just above her knees as she strapped her heels on before heading out, purse in hand. Her hair was piled up on top of her head with a few tendrils framing her face delicately. Her makeup was black liner, pink gloss, and foundation, simple and elegant. The hotel had a bar they were staying at, so she decided to go down there for a couple of drinks to wind down her evening instead of drinking Vodka alone in her room. Sitting down, she waited patiently for the bartender to walk up to her behind the counter and ordered a cosmopolitan, something different than Vodka, and crossed one leg over the other.

Drew had been extremely patient, biding his time and just waiting. It had been interesting to see how Ambrose and the seamstress had just sort of fallen apart. People had noticed, of course, that the duo were…frosty, as it were, to each other these days. Since he was 'observing', -stalking was such a terrible, criminal way of looking at it- he had also noticed that they weren't in each other's hotel rooms anymore, not often. If ever. That meant she was back on the market, so to speak, as if she had ever been truly off of it. His cold eyes swept over her, having noted her coming into the bar dressed to the nines. He remained where he was, watching and waiting, pretty sure if she was dressed like THAT, she had someone meeting her. Ordering another drink, Drew took his time with it and watched as she simply drank alone, feeling a wicked grin spreading across his face.

No…Tressa was drinking alone.

Tonight was the night.

The look on her face was pure sadness as she switched from cosmopolitans to Vodka on the rocks with a splash of cranberry. Cosmos didn't have the same PUNCH or get her tipsy as fast, which is what she wanted. A nice, solid buzz. Why couldn't Jon understand what she was going through? Why couldn't he be patient with her? It'd been 8 months, she understood that, but…8 months was nothing when she had lost the love of her life unexpectedly. She missed Joseph so much and could already feel tears brimming her eyes, looking down at her wedding ring and resting her head in her hand, staring down at her drink absentmindedly.

When you're ready to climb out of the grave, let me know. Those words made her cringe as they replayed over and over again in her head. Tressa finished her third drink of the night and ordered a fourth, just wanting to feel completely numb.