Page 155 of Endgame

In his twisted, fierce way, he loves me.

The revelation sends me into another powerful, painful orgasm. I come so hard my vision blurs around the edges.

“Now that you know all of this, tell me, why am I punishing you?” His voice calls me back from the depths. “Answer me.”

He doesn’t stop stroking me even though I came. Twice.

It’s taken me too long. Too fucking long to see that these orgasms are the punishment he’s been talking about.

He’s torturing me by rubbing my swollen parts. Circling my clit, where I’m the most sensitive. Where his touch both hurts and lifts me higher.

I’m overstimulated. Weak. I need him inside me. I need him to stop forcing these orgasms on me. “Please.”

This vicious, awful man shakes his head.

“I can’t talk like this. Can’t answer.” As my pussy clenches around him again, I curl my fingers into his lapels.

My traitorous hips roll into him even though I crave a break. A break or his cock.

This is too much. “Maybe if you gave me a chance to breathe?—”

“I’ll tell you why.” He loosens his grip on my throat. Fresh air crashes in. Arousal too.

Everett narrows his eyes as my body clamps down on him.

This next orgasm has my head spinning. I cry out in pain. I reach up to Everett’s harsh, gorgeous face.

I look at him through my teary eyes.

Really look at him.

And what I see are the cracks he can no longer hide from me. They’re just as beautiful as the perfect, guarded version of my Everett.

We stare at each other when he’s giving me the punishment Ineed, notwant. That doing this—tending to me—is the only reason he isn’t splitting my pussy in half right now.

“Wife. Stay with me.” I’m being laid out on the bed. His large body settles between my spread legs as his dark, comforting shadow casts over me. His fingers are as insistent as ever in my pussy. “Here’s why you’re being punished. Here’s the truth of it, why I’m forcing pain on you. You”—a low moan escapes him—“you scared the living shit out of me today. I thought I lost you.”

His voice betrays his fear. His worry for me bleeds from him, reaching inside my chest. Twisting my heart. Making it his own.

Finally. Finally. The walls he’s built around himself come crashing down.

If I hadn’t been crying already, I would’ve started now.

I’ve never come alive for anyone. Never let myself truly unravel. I’m bare, raw, and open, and it’s all for him.

I come apart for him, climaxing on his hand, calling out his name. Begging him toplease, please, please, fuck me.

“Don’t you ever do that to me.”

This is the first time anyone’s ever said that to me.

I weep from the intensity of the fourth orgasm. I sob at his devotion. At the words I never thought I’d hear from him.

“You need something, you come to me.” It’s more than an order, it’s a promise. A vow that he’ll never let me down again. “No matter what. Me. Don’t run away. Don’t leave me.”

I’m too choked up to bring it up again, how emotionally unavailable he’s been. How I’ve been waiting for him.

What for? Everett knows. He carries the guilt for it.