The Pull of Passion

It was one of those days. You know, the kind of day that everything sets you off. Every noise, every word that was spoken to me had my blood boiling. An explosion rested just below the surface of my sanity. By the time I got home, all I wanted was a glass of wine, a bubble bath, and a good book to fall into and forget about the world.

However, we don’t always get what we want. The moment the door opened I was assaulted by loud screaming and fake gunfire. Apparently, Richard was playing his video game again. The sound alone brought my anxiety to the edge once more, and I was forced to bite my tongue to prevent yelling at him. Breathe, the day is over. You can’t hear the TV from the master bathroom. It was the mantra of the day. If I could get home and to my tub, everything would be fine.

Everything wasn’t fine. A pile of unwashed dishes greeted me in the kitchen, clutter had been left all over the house, and the constant cursing at the game was going to make me break. Tossing my purse and lunch bag down on the kitchen table, I marched I to the living room where Richard was sitting. He was leaned back on the couch arms in the air after having tossed his controller down on the coffee table. “Fuck!” he screamed, not even realizing I was home.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I yelled, moving to stand in front of the big screen.

Richard looked up, his eyes flaring with anger. Over the years, since we first got together, we had discovered two things about each other. One was that we both loved each other with all we have. Two, we like to fight. It was strange. For how powerful our love was, it was just as volatile when we got angry with one another. It reminded me of a Halestorm song I was fond of.

When Richard got that heated look in his eyes, I knew that my night was going to change. No longer did I care about getting into my nice hot bubble bath. Instead, adrenaline flooded my system, and I was ready for war.

“I spent all day at work, and you were here playing video games and trashing the house? Really, who the hell do you think you are?” I asked, not letting his fierce look deter me from my anger.

“It is my day off. How I spend it is my business. You didn’t clean on your day off. As I remember, you laid in bed and read all day. I worked all day and came home to a sink full of dishes and no dinner as well. You are no saint, so don’t start acting like you are,” he shot back. Yeah, he had a point, but in my defense, the book had been really hot. He certainly didn’t complain when I pulled him into bed with me to work off my overwhelming lust.

“This is more than a sink full of dishes and at least I ordered dinner. I told you when I called at lunch that my day had been shit. Why can’t you ever just do something nice for me? I feel like I am always the one that has to do everything around here and work.” It wasn’t a fair thing to say, but sometimes, you just didn’t want to be fair. Sometimes fighting and getting the energy and aggression out was all it took.

Richard pushed himself off the couch and moved toward me. The heat in his eyes was all anger, but that didn’t stop my body from responding to it. Deep inside, I felt myself clench and tighten with a desire to do something much more heated than argue. He didn’t seem to notice as he moved in close to me. I could feel the warmth of his body and the sensation of it made me want to attack. “I do plenty around here, so stop acting all self-righteous. I hate it when you make me feel like I am worthless and useless. Seriously, Jessie, we have been together for years and anytime you have a bad day you take it out on me.”

“Well, if you would help me out and be more understanding of my bad days, then maybe I wouldn’t complain so much. Hell, I just wanted to come home and have a bath and a glass of wine. Now I have to clean before I can do that.” I moved in closer, needing the feel of his warmth wrap around me.

“You don’t have to clean. It can wait. You just have to have something to bitch about. I swear, you just like coming home and getting me pissed off just to start a fight.” Richard moved in closer and closer, so much so I was forced back. My heart began to race. He was calling me out, and I knew he was right. Damn him for being able to read me so well. “I think you just had such a shit day that you wanted to get me hot so I can take it out on you.”

I opened my mouth to protest, and Richard took advantage of it. His hand snaked around the back of my neck, pulling my face toward his, and smashing our lips together. It was the kind of angry kiss that both hurt and boiled the passion inside of us. His forward movement continued until I was pressed against the wall behind me. I arched into the kiss, rubbing my hips against his. The proof of his lust pressing through his shorts. Damn, I loved when he wore sports shorts. It made getting him naked so much easier.

Richard moved his hands down my body, gripping my ass and lifting me up. My legs wrapped around his waist, and we found a rhythm of kissing and rocking against each other. Wetness formed, and I was sure with the thinness of my panties and his shorts, he knew I wanted more.

“You just need to come good and hard, then you will feel better. You make me mad and get me hot so I will fuck the hell out of you,” he groaned against my lips. I moaned at his words, knowing the truth behind them. Damn, we fought and fucked like the best of them. I swear it was what kept our relationship fresh. Nothing felt better than a hardcore make up session.

Using my toes, I pulled his shorts down his hips, releasing his erection. One of Richard’s hands held to my ass so hard I was sure it would leave finger shaped bruises; his other moved between us, pulling my flimsy panties on the side. His kisses moved down my neck, biting and sucking, making me mew and cry in a nearly begging way. I wanted more, but he wasn’t going to give in until he was ready. He teased me with the light touch of him at my opening but made no motion to enter me.

Arching and rolling more, I begged for him to take me. There was a madness inside of me, desperate for release. My bad day, my annoyance over a messy house, none of it mattered anymore. All I wanted was the explosive sensation of his body inside of mine. It was a release that could wash away the annoyance of the outside world.

“Yeah, you want to be angry and make me angry so I will fuck away your bad day. You could just be a good girl and ask me to do it. I might even give into you. Come on, Jessie, tell me what you want,” he whispered in my ear before taking the lobe between his teeth.

“Damn it Richard, fuck me already. Please! I can’t take this anymore,” I begged, my nails scoring down his bare back. We hadn’t stripped, but he never wore a shirt at home.

The chuckle he gave me was all man, deep and rich, sending a pulsating sensation through my entire body. He knew all too well what that did to me, and when I moaned deeply from it, he thrust hard inside of me. Sometimes even the first thrust was a tease, but apparently, he was just as built up as I was. Instead of holding and making me beg for more, he began a wild, hard pace. Our bodies slammed together, pounding against the hard wall and making the pictures shake. One fell, glass shattering, but we didn’t stop.

Some women liked a slow love making, but not me. I wanted it hard and fierce, and he delivered, pounding me like a jackhammer. It was so intense I was forced to lean forward against his chest to avoid my head being slammed into the wall. The sound of flesh slapping and me screaming with pleasure echoed through our apartment as the tension in my body rose higher and higher.

“Fuck! Don’t stop! Oh fuck, please!” I screamed, wanting release yet not wanting it to end.

Richard pulled us away from the wall and carried us over to the couch. He flipped me over the arm and bent me down, then he returned to my body, slamming into me from behind with even more speed and intensity than before. My hands clenched into the couch cushions, and I thrust back against him. My breathing became erratic, and my muscles tightened. I went from desperate to screaming with orgasm within seconds. No longer could I say words, instead everything came out as intense screams of pleasure. Every nerve in my body was charged with the intensity or my release.

Behind me, Richard was losing his rhythm. He was close, and I wanted to feel that final release of him. He pulled me into him, harder, faster, no longer paying attention to me. No, instead he was after one goal, and one goal only. I was cresting once more, screaming with my second orgasm when he thrust hard, holding his body tight inside of mine as he roared out my name. Damn, that was the sexiest thing I had ever heard. A couple of shaking thrust followed before he collapsed against me, panting.

We lay there together for a couple of seconds before he pulled away, kicking off his shorts. Lifting me, he turned me and kissed me again. This time the kiss was loving and sweet instead of heated and hard. “I love you, Jessie, even when you drive me crazy. Now, go get your bath and I will bring you some wine. Then I will order dinner and clean up a bit. Maybe we can have round two after dinner."

His devilish grin combined with his sweet kiss had me smiling. I began to walk toward the bedroom, the weight of the day and anger completely gone. As I passed by, he smacked my butt and chuckled. Yes, I loved when we fought. It made fucking that much sweeter.

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If you like this story, check out my other story A Smile and A Memory. Also feel free to leave a gift! Thank you for reading!