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“Tell me to stop,” he breathes.
“No,” I tell him. “Never.”
“Tell me you don’t like this. Tell me it fucking hurts.”
I shake my head. “I do like this. I loved everything you ever showed me.”
“Everything?” The word is a threat. It makes my heart pound.
“Everything,” I insist, even though I know I’m playing with fire.
“You liked it when I choked you half to fucking death, did you? That got you off, did it? Don’t fucking lie to me.”
“I loved everything!” I cry. “I swear I loved everything! I wasn’t lying, not about that! I’d never lie about that!”
I whimper as he pulls out of me. I gulp in breath as he flips me onto my back.
My chest heaves as he tugs his belt from his waist.
“Tell me you don’t want me to choke you,” he hisses and he wants me to say it, I know he does.
But I can’t.
I done with lying.
“Say it, Amy.”
“I loved all of it,” I tell him. “I swear.”
“You’ll tap out,” he seethes. “Tap your fucking hand when you want to tell me the fucking truth.”
My throat is already dry when he wraps the belt around my neck and links it through like a choke chain.
The leather feels so different to his hand.
I’m scared.
I’m really scared but I don’t show it. I don’t want him to see.
“Tap your fucking hand,” he says again as he tugs on the end. I retch but my hands are balled into fists at my sides.
I’m never going to tap out. Not ever.
The moment I tap out, this will all be over.
My chest fights for air that won’t come. My legs tremble with adrenaline as Alexander Henley pins me down and slides his cock back into my asshole.
The burn in my ass pales into significance to the burn in my lungs.
This isn’t like usual.
I’m normally relaxed. I normally feel safe, even though I feel out of control. I normally slip beyond the fear so easily, but not today.
Today it’s a battle not to tap my hand and wrench that belt from my neck.
His eyes are on mine as he fucks me. Staring into him is the only thing that keeps me still.
“Tap out,” he whispers, but I don’t. “Damn it, Amy, tap fucking out!”
His breath is hot on my open mouth, but I don’t move. I don’t tap out.
I wrap my legs around his waist to take more of him, and my hands loosen from fists to land on his shoulders. I keep them there.
“You’ll tap out,” he hisses. “Fucking hell, Amy, you will tap out.”
But I won’t.
My ears start ringing as my head swims. It’s calmer now. Everything is so much calmer.
His cock doesn’t hurt in my ass anymore. Nothing hurts.
Everything feels amazing.
I stop struggling for breath. I finally find peace.
Dots dance across my vision and it’s okay here. I’m happy here.
I brush my thumb across his cheek, but he feels so far away.
Tap out, Amy. Fucking hell.
He feels so far away.
His eyes are the last thing I see before mine close.Chapter Forty-FourAlexanderMy blood is on fucking fire as I pound her fucking ass.
It’s a punishment fuck, pure as fucking sin. Raw and brutal and angry. So fucking angry.
I hate the way I love being inside her. I hate the way my cock still craves this.
My eyes bore into hers as I scream at her to tap the fuck out and get this over with.
But she doesn’t.
She fucking doesn’t.
I tug the belt tighter around her pretty throat and she doesn’t even squirm. Her fingers brush my cheek and she smiles at me.
It breaks my fucking heart all over again.
Tap out.
Everything in me is screaming at everything in her.
Just tap the fuck out, you crazy fucking bitch. Stop lying to me.
Her hands fall to the bedsheets as her eyes close.
I stop thrusting the second her chest stops heaving.
“Amy?” It’s a stupid question. Her head lolls limp, and she’s pale, like a fucking ghost.
I yank that fucking belt free in a heartbeat. I tap her face and tell her she’s proved her point. Fuck, she’s proved her fucking point.
I shake her shoulders and demand she fucking answer me.
But she doesn’t.
“Jesus, Amy,” I hiss. “Wake up. Christ, wake up.” My blood runs cold. “Amy!”
I fight the panic. Force down the terror.
“Please wake up. God fucking forgive me, Amy, please wake up.”
Her eyes open wide as she gulps. They focus on mine as she splutters and gurgles.
She takes one long desperate breath and so do I. I’m shaking. Trembling as I pull her into my arms.
Oh God, how I hold her. I smooth her hair with my heart pounding against hers.
She’s dazed. Confused as she orientates herself.
“Alexander?” she whispers and her breath is so fucking raw.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“I’m okay,” she rasps. “It’s okay.”
But it’s not. This will never be fucking okay. I tell her so, and my voice is as raspy as hers.
