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He groans as my walls tighten around him.

His hands move around my body. One landing on my throat and the other gripping my hip tightly. He bounces me up and down on top of him.He loves you. He wants you.

I feel myself reaching my climax as stars threaten my vision. He squeezes tighter around my throat, and my body convulses on top of him. The pleasure overtakes me as I pulse around him.

He continues to pound into me as he swells inside of me. The sensation is warm as it melts my core. I collapse down on top of him, listening to the steady thump as it beats through his sweaty chest. I press my eyes closed as we fuse as one. He makes me forget.Tell him. Tell him how you feel. He feels it too.

“I love you,” I whisper.

They say that when you love a man, everything else fades— the noise, the fear, the past— because love is supposed to be enough.But he didn’t say it back.

* * *

Dante fell asleep pretty quickly. I haven’t been able to sleep. He made me forget all of my problems momentarily. They all came rushing back once the silence took over. The deafening silence that threatens to steal my sanity.

I roll over, rechecking my phone. It’s 3 A.M. Fuck. I need to sleep. I recheck my messages to see if I have any from Astra. Nope. There is one from an unknown number, though.

I open the message, and it’s a photo with a caption.

The caption reads:

He will always love me more.

Above is a photo taken of Dante plowing into a woman from behind. You can’t see her face or his, but you can clearly tell it is him from the tattoos. I want to cry, I really do. I’m afraid I have no more tears left to give today. I am sinking back down into the black void.It’s just a game. He doesn’t love you.

I lock my phone, not wanting to think about the message. I lay in the bed, numb, next to a man who I thought might care about me. Too bad I have nowhere else to go. I have burned all of my bridges.

* * *

I wake up to Dante tracing over my scar. They are slowly healing and no longer as painful.

“Good morning, princess.” His smile is infectious.He probably gives everyone that smile.

“Can I ask you something?” I say timidly.

“Anything.”

“Are you sleeping with anyone else?”

He remains silent for a beat. His responses are always calculated. He never responds to me impulsively, unless of course we are fucking.

“Why the fuck would I do that? Why would you think that?”

I tense at his harsh tone. I didn’t expect him to become angry at such a simple question.

“I—I got a message. A picture actually,” my voice wavering, “it was a picture of you fucking another woman… I just had to make sure it wasn’t true.”

He jerks upright and throws his lamp across the room. My breathing escalates, and I am scared. The look in his eyes has turned murderous, and I am the only one making it happen. He was so kind a moment ago. I sit up, unsure if I will need to run.He won’t hurt you. He is safe.

He still stands at the side of the bed, breathing steadily, as if he were a trained assassin.

“When? When the fuck did you get that?”

“Early this morning…”

“Were there more?”

“No…”