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“Not in my book.” His facial expression is hard as granite. “What else did he run his mouth about? Don’t leave anything out.”
“Just that and the fact that you prefer broken women. How come the two of you are attracted to the same type?”
He remains silent for a beat before his calm voice drifts all around me like a halo, “It’s a challenge.”
“A challenge?”
“Ethan and I don’t like normal. Normal is boring. Back in university, we had no problem having girls fall at our feet, but the high soon withered away. Broken women, on the other hand, were interesting. We got to explore them and bring them to heights even they didn’t think was possible. It was thrilling for the three of us.”
My throat dries at the image of Jonathan and Ethan worshipping a woman. I don’t like it — not that I shouldn’t. It was way back. I still don’t like it, damn it.
The fact that Jonathan also considers me a challenge is what sits badly at the bottom of my stomach.
Is that all I am to him?
“You shouldn’t be mad at Ethan, then,” I murmur. “He must think there’ll be sharing like in the past.”
One moment I’m sitting, the next, Jonathan drags me over. I fall all over his lap with a gasp. His fingers are still wrapped around my throat as his eyes darken to a frightening colour.
I’m staring up at him and trapped in that gaze that’s able to not only dissect me, but simultaneously reach inside me.
“That won’t be fucking happening.” His voice is clipped with an edge that’s meant to cut.
“N-no?”
“No one but me gets to fucking touch you. If anyone attempts to, they’ll disappear and never return.”
His pure male possessiveness could be scary at some level, but for some reason, it cools the fire burning in my chest.
“You would do that?”
“I would do more than that, Aurora. Do you think I was joking when I said you’re mine?” His fingers cup me over my shorts, eliciting a rush of pleasure. “I’m going to put a baby in you to prove it.”
My smile falls at his words.
It all makes sense now, the fact that he’s never used a condom and that at some point, he started coming inside me and often fucks his seed into me. Or the fact that he nodded with approval when I told him I don’t use any birth control.
The tyrant has been trying to impregnate me all this time.
It should make me angry or something, but I can’t get past the bitter taste lingering at the back of my throat.
“You can’t,” I murmur.
“I can’t what?”
“You can’t put a baby in me. I’m barren, Jonathan.” My voice chokes on his name and I sit up, needing the distance.
He lets me go, and I’m thankful he’s allowing me to breathe in something other than his woodsy scent. Maybe he’ll hate me now that I can’t give him the baby he wants. At the beginning, I swear he was against it, which made sense, co
nsidering he has Aiden and Levi, and to an extent, it made me comfortable.
The fact that he changed his mind to wanting babies is messing with my head. I hate this feeling, the fact that I’m defective in so many ways. The fact that I can do nothing to fix it.
“How did that happen?” His voice is the same, with that edge of control and firmness, and, in a way, I’m thankful for it.
“I was born this way. I discovered it in my late teens when I went to the GP for birth control. She ran some tests and told me I was born with a genetically damaged ovary, so I can never have children of my own.”
Silence.
