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I squeal when he lifts me, forcing me to straddle him as if I weigh nothing.
“We aren’t the same, Lauren,” he says, his fingers pinching my nipple hard enough for me to cry out in pain before he wraps those perfect fingers around my throat. “This isn’t tit for tat. What I do to you does not on any level give you the right to do them in return.”
With his free hand, he pulls down the front of his boxers, and my body fucking sings, my head getting a little light from his grip on me.
“Roll up then sit,” he commands.
I want to argue, to draw this out, but my body obeys before I can convince it otherwise.
I groan as he slips inside me, taking a little pride in the way his mouth falls open an inch.
He feels it. Without even having to voice his truth, I know he can sense this fucking connection between the two of us.
It’s fucking electric.
“This isn’t the perfect position for knocking you up, but I’ll just keep my cock in you for an hour.”
I try to scramble away. Joking about breeding me is hot. Actually getting pregnant would be catastrophic. There’s no chance I could ever be anyone’s mother. I’m too fucked up. Hell, he’s too fucked up.
I know with him giving me exactly what I need, I don’t think I’m going to go out and find trouble, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to stick around.
Everything ends, and I can’t let myself think that isn’t going to come crashing down as well. A kid is fucking permanent, and my past is way too fucked up to think I’d be any good at it. I’ve got no interest in continuing that vicious fucking cycle.
“Stand up,” he demands but grips my hip the second my feet hit the floor. He pins me there, holding me in place by his grip on my throat as he fucks upward, spearing me.
Jesus, it feels so good.
I refuse to think of the limited pain, and it’s almost impossible to reconcile enjoying this as much as I enjoy when he fucks me with his teeth imbedded in my skin.
“Fucking perfection,” he pants, his eyes locked on his pistoning cock.
I try to pull away, still unable to accept that I bring him pleasure, that what he does to me is more than a power play.
The man left me my favorite soda on the bedside table, a very sweet gesture, but I can’t imagine him actually enjoying what he does to me outside of the pain he inflicts.
It’s clear I have a long way to go.
“I’m hoping for a boy. I’m going to teach him everything I know.”
I claw at him then, my fingernails digging into the skin on his arms.
That familiar sinister smile is in place when he looks up at me again.
We lock eyes just as his cock kicks inside of me, and before I can pull away, he sits me back on his lap, impaled on his cock.
I struggle for fifteen minutes before he finally lets me get away.
Chapter 37
Angel
I feel like we’re hanging on to a fraying thread.
The last six nights, Lauren has been in my bed, and I haven’t hesitated to sleep right beside her.
I wake with a start every day, long before the sun rises, terrified that I’m going to find the spot beside me empty.
It hasn’t happened yet, but I know it’s coming.