I’m angry again. I’m upset that I’ve fallen this low—succumbing to desiring him so desperately that he can see right through me. Right through the fight.
How can I possibly fight when the opposing side can see my surrender so clearly?
But Nate does not listen; he never does. Instead, he slams his mouth to mine, taking my lips in a hungry, wet kiss that has my head spinning and my half-hard cock thickening with each passing second.
His tongue assaults mine, tracing my teeth and dominating my body. I’m writhing against him, half submission and half struggle.
“That’s right, babydoll,” he murmurs, his hand falling from my face to grip my hard dick. “You feel this? This is mine.Idid this. Try denying your desires now.”
Nate is the worst. He is every horrible thing I’ve ever wanted, every torturous craving that has consumed me before I could sink my teeth intoit. Nate is, in this moment, my very own devastating defeat.
“You should have called,” I whisper, and I don’t intend to say it. His silence shouldn’tmeananything to me. I can’t stand him.
Yet, the idea of him exiting my life is making me anxious. Panicky. Sad.
What is the point in having him, even in this way, if I’m still surrounded by this misery?
Nate stares at me, his gaze colliding with mine as he digests my soft complaint.
Then, finally, in the softest voice I’ve ever heard him conjure, he says, “I’ll call. The next time I can’t make it, I’ll call you.”
And then he’s devouring my mouth again, taking from me what I’ve yet to offer him: emotion. And the misery once again recedes.
I follow Nate around for the remainder of his night at Chastain Castle, even briefly running into Cameron, whom I met at the New Year’s party so many months ago.
He was in the kitchen, wide-eyed and saddened. Whatever he had just encountered, it seemed to have shaken him to the core. The man looks like he’s tough as nails, but in that moment, he was a small and broken thing.
EvenIfelt bad for him, and I’m not one to dish out sympathy. But then he scurried away, and I leaned against the kitchen island as Nate finished up the spare snacks he was previously preparing for the party.
And now, as we enter his little cottage some time later, the excitement I felt on the way here returns to me. It’s time for payback.
Nate is about to experience sensation overload, the exact torture he’s been putting me through from the moment we met.
He just doesn’t know it yet.
Landon
15
I’M PERFECTLY COMFORTABLE BEINGan evil little thing, specifically when it comes to sex. As I told Nate before, being on the bottom doesn’t make you submissive.
And sure, beingforcedinto submission is hot as well, but breaking Nate? That is going to be life-changing.
As he drops his backpack and helmet onto the kitchen counter, he sighs, immediately heading for the bathroom.
“I’m taking a shower. I’ll be out soon,” he says blandly, shutting the door behind him.
Any other time, this might have pissed me off a bit. His blatant disregard for me, I mean. But not this time. All he’s doing is leaving me the opportunity to prepare.
I grab my bag and rush into his bedroom just as the shower turns on, and as I’m unpacking my things, I spot the little armchair in the corner of the space.
It’s a light blue, all soft fabric and plush pillows, probably just wide enough to be comfortable for his big body. It’sperfect.
I take a moment to pull it into the center of the room, only a pace or two from where the end of the bed is. Then I continue tosearch through my bag, keeping all of my supplies at the top but not quite showing. I can’t have him run before the fun starts.
And sure, he’s going to try and fight me on this—and Iwon’tuse coercion, as I fear that’ll switch him from horny to angry in seconds—but I think I can convince him. I think I know exactly what to say to make him fall in line.
A few moments after I finish readying my things, wiping my hands on my jeans to clean them as well as I can, the shower turns off.
