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“Liar.”

“I have never lied to you.” The intensity in his green irises showed me the truth of his words, and even though he squeezed tighter, the turmoil bubbling inside me calmed.

“But you don’t tell me the truth either.”

He clenched his jaw. “I’m working on it.”

“Work harder.” I dug my heels into his ass. “Finish what you started.”

“This conversation isn’t over.” He withdrew to the tip of his cock and slammed forward, jarring me against the counter.

I set a palm to the backsplash, leveraging my body to help me meet each of his thrusts. “From my point of view, it wasn’t a conversation, more of you making demands and me denying you.”

“You are a brat.” He fisted my hair. “You never fucking listen.”

“Well, it still didn’t stop you from falling for me or you wanting to lock me away in your ice palace.”

“I tried locking you away. You escaped.” He hammered my pussy with hard, measured strokes meant to send me over. “Now I’m on to other methods of binding you to me.”

My response caught in my throat as my orgasm washed over me. My body arched as my vaginal walls contracted around Damon’s steely length. I thrashed against him while he continued to pound into me, and my core clamped down, flexing and trembling. Sensations cascaded over me, and without thinking, I bit down on his shoulder, so overwhelmed by the fury of the release Damon milked from me.

He kept me suspended, unable to come down as he worked his cock in and out of me, racing toward his own pleasure. His thumb grazed my clit, strumming and circling it, and I flew over again. This time, Damon joined me, pumping hard and hot into me.

He held me close, his face buried against my chest as our breaths calmed.

We remained quiet, neither of us saying a word as if afraid to shatter the intimacy of being together.

The scent of his shampoo teased my nostrils, and I held back a tear as the emotions of all this man had put me through resurfaced from the box I’d worked so hard to stuff them inside.

This time, I refused to make it easy on him.

He wanted me. He’d work for it.

Deciding to break the silence, I said, “I will choose if I’m with you or not. Nothing can bind me to you. Not marriage, not a child. And just so you know, you haven’t gotten me pregnant.”

“There is no way you can know this.” He lifted his head, the firm set of his jaw daring me to challenge his statement.

“I can. I’m due for my period either today or tomorrow. My cycle countered your plans.”

“I still want you to move back in with me.”

The way he worded it wasn’t a command or an order, more in a way of a request, but the meaning was the same. Everything was about his desires and his needs. Yes, mine were there too, but losing him left me in turmoil, and for weeks I had floundered. I couldn’t risk it again.

This time, I’d stand on my own two feet first.

“No, that isn’t going to happen.”

As if hearing my internal monologue, he said, “I’m your Dom. You need the control and the stability I can give you.”

I craved those things, wanted those things. I had to remember how Damon had let me down. He hadn’t been the Dom I needed. I could only depend on myself to sustain me into the future.

“No, you’re not my Dom. I’m not your submissive. That relationship is over.” I dropped my head for a second before looking back up at him. “I don’t trust you anymore. Especially not after how you pushed me away. We have sex, kinky sex, but it’s only sex.”

“You can’t mean that. You love me.”

I shoved him back, forcing him to slip from my body, and jumped off the counter. Shrugging on my robe and tying the belt, I glared at him, my temper roiling up to a boil.

“You arrogant asshole. Are you hearing anything I’m saying?”

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