Page 16 of The Bonds We Break

Canny fucking witch.

She sucks me into her mouth, those pouty lips opening wide for me. I like that I stretch her.

I hate that I like it.

Fisting her hair in my hand, I thrust up into her throat, causing her eyes to water and her to splutter.

That’s more like it.

Pity she’s not wearing mascara. She washed all the makeup off her face before we left. “This would have been better with black track marks down your face, but I’ll take the silvery reflection of tears.”

I loosen the grip momentarily, to see if she’ll pull away. But she doesn’t.

She takes it as I thrust into her mouth, down her throat.

Eyes filled with rage only leave mine when she blinks.

I force myself to look over her shoulder and lose myself in the sensation of her mouth. It’s been too long since I got off. Since my club’s betrayal, I’ve sunk further and further into a pit of loathing for the world at large.

The Millers owe me this.

I feel the thrum of an orgasm building. My balls tighten, as do my abs. Fuck, it feels good.

I guess anger makes Rae grip harder, suck harder, bite harder.

Funny, those things make me come harder.

Every muscle in my body tenses. I’m silent as my cum floods her mouth. She doesn’t deserve to know how good it was for me.

How it was likely the best blow job I’ve ever had.

Even as she struggles to swallow everything I just gave her.

Rae wipes a single finger over her lips, catching the trail of cum, then wipes it on the side of my leg.

Any other woman and I would reciprocate. Give her some oral ... or cock ... whatever she needed to get off. But I’m not feeling generous. “You don’t have my permission to come tonight.”

She swipes her fingers between her legs. When she shows them to me, they are bone dry. “You assume that sucking your cock even remotely turned me on. As it didn’t, you have nothing to worry about. Good night, King,” she says, then flops onto the other side of the bed.

I tuck myself back in my jeans and head to the small living room. It’s cold in here. I’m used to it, but something makes me build a fire. I’m not tired. I should be. My insomnia is getting worse.

Relieved that I chopped and stacked a whole bunch of wood last time I was up here, I get a fire roaring in no time. I watch the flames lick the glass door of the fireplace before turning to close the curtains. The sun will be up before I know it, and I intend to sleep.

The way Rae’s lips felt around my cock was something else.

She consented, but she wasn’t into it.

How could she not have been?

Why do I even care?

I’m confused by why she wasn’t affected by what we did. Maybe it’s the difference between men and women. For men, it’s just sex. A release. For women, I’ve heard it’s more emotional. And without any feelings of connection to me, she couldn’t.

Or perhaps she deliberately withheld herself from me.

There was definite sexual tension beneath the haze of loathing.

Then it hits me in a way that makes me want to slap myself in the fucking face. She’s not here because she wants to be. She’s here because I threatened her. Threatened her brother.