Page 108 of Endgame

“You don’t have to do this.” I reach up, stroking his stubbled cheek. “Please. I’ll do anything. Don’t do this to me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” His gaze, something’s wrong with it, with Everett. “I have to go through with this. There’s no other way. None.”

The rest of mypleaseandlet me stay herego unnoticed. Everett, with one hand steadying me, rubs shampoo into my hair and lathers soap over my body.

Kicking, screaming and appealing to his conscience all fail me. He has a job to do, and he won’t stop until he’s done.

I give up.

Eventually, I’m clean. I smell nice and refreshed, despite the horror I know is coming.

Everett won’t let go of my throat even after he’s done. He holds me in place while he shrugs out of his pants and boxers.

I get weak in the knees at his nearness, from watching his muscles rippling when he squirts soap over them.

His cock jerks, his biceps flex.

The heated glances he pins me with, it’s melting me.

I’m sure he sees more of my shame. That I lust for him when I absolutely shouldn’t.

Briefly, he stares at me as if I’m precious to him.

Then Everett shakes his head and moves on to washing the suds off his sculpted, infuriating body.

The moment we shared disappears as quickly as it came.

“I’m not going,” I whisper again.

“Yes, you are.” He turns off the water, guiding me out of the shower.

Everett’s efficient, toweling me off first before he dries himself.

“Am not.” I’m aware of how I sound. A child. A brat.

What else can I do? I’m at the end of my rope here.

“Do you hear me?” I call after him as he walks over to the closet.

I’d follow him. Except I might do something stupid like get on all fours again just to pleasure him and myself without any hidden agenda, which is terrible.

“Everett.” So here I am. Raising my voice instead of joining him there.

“I heard you.” He storms back in, a wrathful god in a dark, expensive suit.

A force of a man charging at me. His long gait throws me off balance, and I stumble back.

His hand around my arm is warm, catching me. Steadying me.

Trapping me.

He’s everywhere, and yet I feel so hollow. So needy.

“I heard you…” Everett lowers his face, his lips at my ear, making me shiver. “Begging to be punished.”

“No.” The world turns upside down. My body is being swept off the ground, and I’m on Everett’s shoulder, being carried outof the bathroom. “No, you bastard. Stop. Don’t take me out there naked.”

“Jesus Christ, you just don’t get it.” I think I hear compassion in his tone. A sliver of it.