Page 127 of Veil of Obsession

“I fucking hate you,” she sobs.

I slam into her harder.

“Iloveyou,” I growl. “That’s the worst part.”

She sobs again—and I feel her clench. So tight. So close.

But I don’t let her come. I grip her hair and pull her back until her spine arches. Her mouth falls open.

“You don’t get to come,” I hiss into her ear, my cock driving deeper, grinding the piercing against her sweet spot with every thrust. “Not until you say it.”

She fights it. I feel her body rebel—hips trying to jerk, walls spasming—but she holds it, barely.

I spank her. Once. Twice. Her whole body jolts.

“Say it.”

“I love you,” she chokes.

I fuck her harder.

“Ifuckinglove you.”

Then I let go. “Now.”

And she explodes. Her cunt clamps down so violently I almost fall with her. She sobs my name—broken, breathless, shaking. And I keep thrusting through it, milking every last spasm.

Then I come. It hits me like a wrecking ball. I bury myself deep, grind against her, let the piercing drag over her as I empty inside her with a groan so low it feels torn from my chest.

We collapse forward, still tangled, panting, stuck together by sweat and cum and everything we don’t know how to say out loud.

I don’t pull out. I lean over her back, kiss her neck.

“You still hate me?” I ask, softer now.

She turns her head just enough for our eyes to meet. “I think I hate how much I love you.”

Same.

We lie there for a bit; I pull out, wishing there was time for another round when she lets out a low moan. Instead of contemplating that, I head into the downstairs restroom and grab a towel, soaking it with hot water. I clean myself quickly before going back to where I left her.

Running the warm towel over her sweat-soaked body, I say, “We need to go. Now.”

She’s still catching her breath, still trembling, but she nods. Putting the wet towel down, I pull my clothes on before helping her put hers back on and grab her hand, leading her out.

She doesn’t argue. Doesn’t ask questions. She just follows. Like she finally understands what’s at stake.

We get into the car and I start the engine, pulling out onto the road, heading out of the New Hampshire. We just need to get to Vegas.

She’s quiet beside me. Too quiet. I glance at her, then at the rearview mirror. And that’s when I see it.

A black SUV. Following. Too close.

My jaw locks, my grip tightening on the wheel. I take the next turn fast, watching the car behind us adjust, matching my speed.

I feel Princess tense beside me. She knows. She fucking knows.

I reach for my gun, keeping my eyes on the road. “Stay down.”