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It doesn’t seem like there’s nothing, but the last thing I want to do is push at him if he’s not ready to talk. I’ve pushed too hard with him before, I can’t have that distance between us now.

The uneasy feeling continues to thicken between us, and just when I’m ready to approach him again, he clears his throat.

“Raven.”

“Yeah?”

He shakes his head. “Hi, Raven, I am Brax?—”

Understanding quickly dawns on me, and I shake my head. “No! No fucking way,” I interject, eyes wide with horror. “You do not get to do that,” I ramble, my body vibrating with surprise.

“Do what?” he snaps, hands fisted on the table as he stares at me.

Taking a deep breath, I lean back in my seat. “Brax, I love you, wholeheartedly, and I believe you love me too. That’s enough, more than enough. But when the time comes, if I need you to run, then I need you to run.”

His brows furrow as he tilts his head. “Like, run as in leave you?”

“Yes, like that because?—”

“Because what, Raven?” he snaps, anger exuding from him.

I search his eyes, hoping he can understand what I’m trying to say, but it’s clear we’re not on the same page. “Because I didn’t decide this, Brax, but you decided it even less and?—”

“Do you hear yourself?” he interjects again, frustrating me.

I’m on my feet before I realize it, hands slamming down on the table, making the cutlery rattle.

“Brax,” I bite through clenched teeth, desperate to explain myself properly.

He looks me dead in the eyes, anger deepening his pupils. “If you ever ask me to run, Raven, I won’t.” His voice is low, gravelly, and full of warning.

“You should,” I push back, angry that he doesn’t see my side of the situation. Irritated, my head sags forward, my chin falling to my chest as I exhale slowly, but it does nothing to calm me down. Instead, I lift my hands and slam my palms into the table once more, trying to get the frustration out of my system.

Fingers wrap around my wrist, jolting me back, but I wasn’t anticipating the move, so I have no room to fight as Brax encloses both of my wrists in his grasp and pins my upper half to the table. Thankfully, he seems to move the dishes and my cheek presses against the solid wood beneath me.

Anger coils from his body, intertwining with my own, leaving me breathless as I wriggle in his hold. His presence behind me, looming over me with his wide frame, does nothing to calm my racing heart.

Attempting another deep breath, I lift my head to glance back at him. His chest rises and falls harshly as he looks down at me, but his gaze is dipped down and I can’t meet his eyes. It takes me far too long to recognize what has his attention, though, and I only truly grasp it when his free hand dances over the hem of my academy skirt.

The move sends a shiver of apprehension down my spine and I find myself rubbing my thighs together, desperate for any form of friction, but nothing calms the tension radiating from me.

“Brax,” I rasp, eager to figure out this mess with him, but he doesn’t hear me, or if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge his name on my lips.

Instead, I feel a cool breeze as my skirt is removed and my panties are no longer covering my pussy. Not a second ticks by before the tip of his cock is pressing against my entrance.

I’m helpless against him as his thick length spears into my core with total disregard for comfort, not offering a single moment of reprieve to allow me to adjust. It doesn’t help that I’m already slick for him, beckoning him deeper as a moan parts my lips.

Fuck.

“Brax,” I repeat, unsure what I need his attention for, but his eyes remain glued on where we are joined.

His hips sling back until only the tip remains before he thrusts forward again, harder and faster this time. His moves are punishing, his force breaking, making the clench of my pussy around his cock breathtaking as I cling to him in every way possible.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Tell me again what I should be running from?” he bites, fingers tightening around my wrists as he continues to slam into me over and over again.

“Brax—”