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It felt so good.
Too good.
Better than any touch from any other man in my life.
I didn’t know whether I wanted to slap his hand away or open my legs and beg for more.
Panting hard, he feathered his touch inside me, stretching me in so many indecent ways. His breath gusted hotly. “Why you, huh? Why?”
The fact that his questions matched mine.
The fact that neither of us had answers for this…for us…scrambled my mind and unchained all my inhibitions.
I forgot about where we were.
I forgot about fear and bargains.
My world narrowed to just him.
Him and his pumping fingers.
With a moan, I spread a little wider. My head fell backward onto his shoulder as his fingers drove deep, deep inside me. I didn’t think about acting or secrets. I didn’t think at all.
“You’re making me exist in a nightmare,” he groaned. “A nightmare I can’t seem to wake up from.”
“Then stay asleep,” I whispered, closing my eyes on the horrible scene before me and concentrating only on him. Just him. I shuddered as he hooked his touch, stroking me, withdrawing, then plunging hard.
It felt good. Bad. Wrong. Perfect.
He choked on a breath. “I can’t decide if I’m fucking jealous of him or turned on knowing you’re this wet from watching.”
Before I could reply, he ran his nose down my neck. “Did you talk to him?” He inhaled me. “I know you showered my cum off you. You don’t smell like me anymore, which drives me fucking insane. You disobeyed me once, so…did you disobey me twice?” His fingers speared quick and punishing. “Did you speak to him when I told you to stay mute? Did you spill all my secrets?”
I should be afraid.
I should be normal and sensible and stop this.
Yet I had absolutely no strength to reach for sanity.
I was tired.
Exhausted.
I just wanted to be free, and for a few blissful seconds while he touched me…I soared.
I gasped as my core clenched around his fingers, a ripple of intensity climbing a hill of bliss.
He groaned and bit my ear. “Fuck, could you come like this? Here? With me?”
In another world, on another day, I would turn around and slap him for even suggesting I was such a heathen. But on this day, in this nightmare, I merely gave in to the game between us and nodded.
“Christ, Ily.” His teeth sank into my neck. His fingers drove deeper, claiming everything.
I cried out.
I squirmed.
“You’re making this impossible for me, little nightmare. Impossible to stay good.”
