was about more than sex. He wanted to hurt me—I felt it in my bones where his hands had left their imprints.
Gasping, I propped up on elbows and watched him warily, my shaking knees falling to the sides. He stalked me slowly, shedding his clothes with each step closer, and his fierce expression said I belonged to him. I shouldn't feel excitement, shouldn't feel warmth pooling between my legs, but that was me—the fucked up girl who got off when she shouldn't.
“Turn over,” he growled. “On your hands and knees.”
I rolled to my stomach, pushed onto all fours, and the mattress lowered when he climbed behind me. He wrapped his large hands around my hips and dragged me backward until my bottom pressed into his lap, my thighs spread as far as they would go. A rough hand shoved my cheek to the mattress, and my strangled moan tore through the air as his erection teased the opening of my sex.
“Are you on birth control?”
The question evoked a deep ache in my heart. I’d been on some form of contraception since I was fifteen. “I just had an injection a couple of weeks ago.”
“Are you clean?”
“Are you?” I countered.
“I’ve been in prison for eight years. What do you think?”
I didn’t answer, as I didn’t like to think of Rafe in prison.
“I asked you a question,” he bit out in that unnerving tone I was beginning to recognize. “Are you clean?”
I’d only been with one man, and considering Zach’s obsession with me, I doubted I had to worry about STDs. I wished Zach had turned his focus onto someone else, as horrible and selfish as that sounded. “I’m clean.”
He curled his fingers into my hips and nudged me. “Do you want this?”
God yes.
I let out a pleading moan. I shouldn't want him this way. It was twisted and wrong, but just the thought that he'd do it anyway if I fought him made me even hotter. I hated my body; it had it all backwards. Sex shouldn’t be about power and control.
His hands closed around my wrists and yanked them to the mattress, next to my spread thighs, and I’d never felt so helpless and exposed—not in a way that was so exhilarating.
“I won’t be gentle.”
My whole body shuddered. “I don’t expect you to be.”
“Good, ‘cause I’m not stopping.” Something ominous laced his words.
“You’re going to hurt me, aren’t you?” Another shiver went through me, and I couldn’t decide if I was exited or horrified. Zach had hurt me so many times that it had become second nature, but Rafe wasn’t my psychotic step-brother. Rafe was the guy I’d obsessed over for years, and now he had me pinned down and spread, easy prey, and I worried he was about to figure out just how fucked up I was.
“No orgasms allowed.”
I groaned. “You’re crazy if you think I can hold back.” Every atom in my body zinged with the need for him to fill me.
His fingers flexed around my wrists. “I think you’re gonna find a way, unless you really want to test me. I’m not fucking you for your pleasure, sweetheart. I’m fucking you because you’re my piece of ass.”
That was all I’d ever be to him. A piece of ass, a thing he held in contempt for unforgivable sins. Lips trembling, eyes stinging with unshed tears, I tried to swallow the hurt, but this wasn’t how I’d imagined our first time.
I wasn’t a monster. If I told myself that enough times, maybe I’d believe it.
She swiveled her head and looked at me, dark curls tumbling over her shoulder, and her jade eyes glimmered with unspoken hurt. She still didn’t understand that I hungered for her pain, her tears. I smacked her hard on the ass. “Keep your head down.”
I slammed into her, and her spine arched under my onslaught of savage greed. My entire body ignited with the sensation of being joined. No latex barrier, just pure skin-to-skin contact. Shit, her pussy was ready for me. Tight, wet, hot. If I weren’t so on edge, I’d bury myself in her for hours. Finally, after so many fucking
Gasping, I propped up on elbows and watched him warily, my shaking knees falling to the sides. He stalked me slowly, shedding his clothes with each step closer, and his fierce expression said I belonged to him. I shouldn't feel excitement, shouldn't feel warmth pooling between my legs, but that was me—the fucked up girl who got off when she shouldn't.
“Turn over,” he growled. “On your hands and knees.”
I rolled to my stomach, pushed onto all fours, and the mattress lowered when he climbed behind me. He wrapped his large hands around my hips and dragged me backward until my bottom pressed into his lap, my thighs spread as far as they would go. A rough hand shoved my cheek to the mattress, and my strangled moan tore through the air as his erection teased the opening of my sex.
“Are you on birth control?”
The question evoked a deep ache in my heart. I’d been on some form of contraception since I was fifteen. “I just had an injection a couple of weeks ago.”
“Are you clean?”
“Are you?” I countered.
“I’ve been in prison for eight years. What do you think?”
I didn’t answer, as I didn’t like to think of Rafe in prison.
“I asked you a question,” he bit out in that unnerving tone I was beginning to recognize. “Are you clean?”
I’d only been with one man, and considering Zach’s obsession with me, I doubted I had to worry about STDs. I wished Zach had turned his focus onto someone else, as horrible and selfish as that sounded. “I’m clean.”
He curled his fingers into my hips and nudged me. “Do you want this?”
God yes.
I let out a pleading moan. I shouldn't want him this way. It was twisted and wrong, but just the thought that he'd do it anyway if I fought him made me even hotter. I hated my body; it had it all backwards. Sex shouldn’t be about power and control.
His hands closed around my wrists and yanked them to the mattress, next to my spread thighs, and I’d never felt so helpless and exposed—not in a way that was so exhilarating.
“I won’t be gentle.”
My whole body shuddered. “I don’t expect you to be.”
“Good, ‘cause I’m not stopping.” Something ominous laced his words.
“You’re going to hurt me, aren’t you?” Another shiver went through me, and I couldn’t decide if I was exited or horrified. Zach had hurt me so many times that it had become second nature, but Rafe wasn’t my psychotic step-brother. Rafe was the guy I’d obsessed over for years, and now he had me pinned down and spread, easy prey, and I worried he was about to figure out just how fucked up I was.
“No orgasms allowed.”
I groaned. “You’re crazy if you think I can hold back.” Every atom in my body zinged with the need for him to fill me.
His fingers flexed around my wrists. “I think you’re gonna find a way, unless you really want to test me. I’m not fucking you for your pleasure, sweetheart. I’m fucking you because you’re my piece of ass.”
That was all I’d ever be to him. A piece of ass, a thing he held in contempt for unforgivable sins. Lips trembling, eyes stinging with unshed tears, I tried to swallow the hurt, but this wasn’t how I’d imagined our first time.
I wasn’t a monster. If I told myself that enough times, maybe I’d believe it.
She swiveled her head and looked at me, dark curls tumbling over her shoulder, and her jade eyes glimmered with unspoken hurt. She still didn’t understand that I hungered for her pain, her tears. I smacked her hard on the ass. “Keep your head down.”
I slammed into her, and her spine arched under my onslaught of savage greed. My entire body ignited with the sensation of being joined. No latex barrier, just pure skin-to-skin contact. Shit, her pussy was ready for me. Tight, wet, hot. If I weren’t so on edge, I’d bury myself in her for hours. Finally, after so many fucking
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