Page 48 of Endless Depths

I nod, eyes locked on his, telegraphing my sincerity.

Time crawls to a standstill. Then he spins me away from him, and taps my ass. “Get on the bed on your hands and knees.”

I do as he says, feeling vulnerable and raw as he makes no move to follow. His footsteps creep closer. I look over my shoulder at him with a conflicting mix of shame and arousal.

“Eyes on the mattress, Cole.”

He takes another step closer. Displaced air chills my feverish skin.

“Tell me you’re sorry,” he says.

“I’m sorry,” I say, tone laced with remorse. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Please. I swear. I hate myself for hurting you.”

I wish he’d let me look at him. Maybe then he’d believe me. But even if he did, no apology can erase what I’ve done. The only way to absolution is atonement, and the only way to atone is to let him go.

Hot tears spill over. I arc down and rub my face against the pillow.

“Better.” He palms my ass cheek. “Show me how much you want me.”

I rush to comply, lowering my head to the mattress, tipping my ass up for easy access, ignoring the protest of pain in my lower back.

Wordlessly, he grips my hips and hauls me to the edge of the bed until his denim-clad hard-on brushes against my ass. He sweeps his tongue up my spine, then presses his bare chest against my back, and kisses my neck. Heat blooms inside me, and goosebumps erupt across my body.

He strokes my feverish skin. “You like this, don’t you? You get off on groveling.”

“No.”

“No?” He laughs darkly. “Sunshine, you’re fucking the sheets like you’re in heat.”

My mouth betrays me with a whimper. We’re pretty vanilla, but degradation has always turned me on, and he knows it. Even when he’s punishing me, he’s punishing me the way I need him to.

“You look tempting, but how can I trust you haven’t been with anyone else when you packed me away so easily? For all I know, your hole is sloppy with another man’s cum.”

“It’s not. I haven’t been with anyone else.”

“Why?”

“All of me belongs to you.”

He says nothing. My skin heats, the longer he stares.

“Prove it.”

I reach back and part my cheeks for him, too far gone to care. He overlaps my hands with his, and spreads me wider, then spits on my hole.

I hold my breath. But he does nothing as his saliva slides down to my balls.

“Please,” I whine. “I’ll do anything.”

“Oh, I know.” His breath ghosts against my hole. “Look at you, baring your hole, begging me to fuck you so you can get off.”

“I don’t want to get off. I want you to claim me, to take back what I took from you. I want the pain I caused you poured back into me.”

He steps backward, and cold air rushes to fill the space he left.