Page 105 of Dual

Or try to. He grabs my right wrist and slams it to theplush rug by my head with enough force to make the bones creak, eyes so dark the irises are completely eclipsed by his pupils.

"Don't. Push. Me," he barely gets out through gritted teeth, each word bitten off and spit out.

"Or what?" I hiss, arching beneath him, pressing my breasts against his chest. "Do your worst. You want to punish me for all my lies?" I lift up from where he's got me pressed down with his weight and his cock, using my core strength to get close enough to his ear to whisper, "You don't even know the half of it. There's so much we haven't told you, Donny. If you knew the truth, it would make you crazy."

His eyes go wide, and I grin, a feral baring of teeth.

There he is.

There's the monster that's been hiding all this time. The one that lives inside him, the one that matches my own, the one that knows I'm right. That knows I'm lying. That knows I'm dangerous.

His free hand comes to my throat, fingers curling around the delicate column.

I fling my head back to bare it to him, offering my most vulnerable part. "Take my breath again, Donny. You never fuck me as dark as we both know you want to. Why are you holding back?" I wrap my legs around his back and try to flip him, leveraging my weight against his.

I want to push all his triggers. And nothing triggers Donny like trying to take his control away. Why am I doingthis? I'm being a bitch but I still push. Harder. Crueler. I have to. I have to! I'm the strong one!

"Come on," I shout, my voice edged with desperation now. "I know there's so much rage in you. And there should be, you fucking dog whore!"

His hand comes to my throat then, and I feel the precious squeeze taking my air. The pressure builds, cutting off my breath, my vision starting to tunnel as the oxygen depletes.

Yes.

Finally.

He squeezes. Tighter and tighter as his thrusts come even rougher, the wet sounds of our bodies meeting fill the kitchen, obscene and perfect.

I laugh, getting so high as the dots begin to dance, constellations of dark stars appearing at the edges of my vision. My lungs burn, my heart pounds, my cunt throbs around him.

His hand releases at the very last moment, air rushing back into my lungs in a gasping torrent. I come so hard I feel his shudder when my pussy clenches and spasms on his cock, milking him, gripping him, begging him to follow me over the edge.

I think he'll come with me.

But I'm wrong.

What I've awoken isn't ready to be put back to sleep yet.

Donny pulls out of me, leaving me empty and aching, and then he's flipping me over so I'm on my knees, my face shoved into the plush carpet. I inhale the scent of the fibers---clean, with the faintest hint of the jasmine air freshener Anna insists on---as I feel his body looming over me from behind, kicking my legs apart.

There's little preamble as he feeds his cock into my ass, the breach sudden and intense, my body initially resistant to the invasion. The pain is immediate, sharp and bright, a flash of lightning that travels from my tailbone to the top of my spine.

Then his hand comes back to my throat as he leans over my body. He covers me with the warmth of his chest even as his hot fingers squeeze again at my throat, cutting off my air, my reality narrowing to just this---just us, just pain, just pleasure.

"This is how you always wanted it, isn't it?" His voice is a hoarse, punishing whisper against the shell of my ear. "You're the part of her that wants to push me as near as you can get to him? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

But as he asks it, he thrusts hard up into my ass. It hurts. It hurts a lot. He's only lubed with my excessive pussy juices, the friction a vicious burn.

I scream from the pain. Just how I know he wants it.

He loves the pain.

He loves hearing it, and we both glory in the moment, both of us lost in the dark dance we've been circling around since the day we met. This is what we've always been, beneath the veneer of normalcy, beneath the pretense of healing, beneath the lies we tell each other and ourselves.

I deserve the pain, and feeling it in my body lets me...

Feel.

For these brief moments in my entire fucked up life, I can feel. The world rushes in, every sensation sharp and clear and real---the burn of him inside me, the crush of his hand on my throat, the abrasion of the carpet against my knees and breasts, the sweat dripping between us where our bodies meet.