Hunter watched Graham go, something settling in his face—not remorse, not even acknowledgment. He turned back to me like a man who'd simply handled something that needed handling, and repositioned himself between my legs without a word.
I let Hunter finish. But I wasn’t in that room anymore. I was lost in the sea of jumbled up thoughts clouding my mind.
He’d hit me again, and Graham was right.It wasn’t what I wanted.
But I deserved it… I should’ve paid more attention to him… made sure he knew Graham was just a guest.
But I couldn’t shake it. Graham was gone. My heart stormed out that door and took any chance of me actually being “fine” with him.
The air in the room darkened. What once felt passionate, playful, full of heat and arousal, was now empty—bare. Even the warm sunlight shining through the blinds didn’t fill the void that lingered.
“I said look at me,” Hunter grumbled through clenched teeth.
I looked… because I didn’t know what he’d do if I didn’t.
But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t see him. My gaze focused right through him, and all I could see was Graham.
SLAP!
Another strike across my face.
Even though a small yelp escaped my lips and more tears welled at the edges of my vision, I didn’t care anymore. He was under a spell that made him obsessed more than the natural man could tolerate.
It was all my fault.
I slammed my eyes shut as the sting seared into my face, so hot I could feel where each of his fingers left a mark—where my skin swelled.
When I finally opened my eyes, I could see him—Hunter. But I didn’t see him like I saw Graham. No—I saw him for what he truly was. Just the poor son-of-a-bitch I’d conjured to fuck me—to obsess over me. I couldn’t pretend anymore.
Hunter grabbed my arms, pulling me up to him.
“Goddamn it,mo chróí! I said look at me when I’m fucking you!” he fumed, shaking me, before releasing his bruising grip on my arms.
“Hunter, stop! You’re hurting me.” I thought maybe if I said something, it would distract him. But when I looked at him again… I saw the pain hiding behind the anger. The hurt in his eyes.
I should have never asked Graham to join us in the bedroom. Especially when I knew there was still so much of me clinging to him.
He would always have my whole heart, and Hunter knew it from the beginning.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, disconnecting from the moment.
Hunter rolled me over, positioning me how he liked—face down, ass up, submissive.
I clutched the blankets, pulling them to my face, attempting to muffle the sobs that broke free—the sobs that became the evidence of a cracked exterior.
He grabbed my hair, yanking my head back so hard I could have sworn I heard my neck snap.
“Quit crying and let me finish, you filthy whore!” he demanded, grabbing my ass, pulling me close while he impaled me with so much rage it hurt as his dick beat against my cervix.
I felt physically ill, but I stayed silent. The tears wouldn’t stop. The nausea. The pain…
I deserved it all.
He knew Graham and I were a thing before I’d even introduced them. We’d spent a few late nights discussing everything. Hunter knew I loved him, but he also knew I would never feel for him what I felt for Graham.
“You’re selfish, Maggie,” Hunter said between breaths. “Don’t let it happen again.”
“It won’t,” I agreed.I was selfish.
