Page 30 of Shallow River


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“The only way I want to own a woman is by owning her pleasure. I want her body to sing for me—a tune that only I can hear. I want her body to gravitate towards mine like a moth to a flame. And I want her to grow to dislike the feeling of being so empty when my cock isn’t inside of her.”

Too much. Too fast. I want to do the opposite of deny him. I want to give, give, give. Until his hands are full of me, and my body is full of him.

I need out.

“I have to go now.”

Seven

river

I’VE ALWAYS HEARD THAT when a ghost is nearby, you feel an impenetrable cold so strong, it soaks into your bones. And when one passes through you, it’s like inhaling ice.

The house is quiet.

There must be spirits playing dress-up with my body.

I know he’s here.

“Ryan?” I call.

What’s the point in dragging it out? The anticipation is killing me. Adrenaline thumps inside of me, and I’m ashamed to admit my hands are shaking a little. Bilby greets me from his perch on the couch, meowing quietly, followed up by a yawn. I walk over, petting his grey fur and trying my best to distract myself from the impending confrontation.

“Right here,” he says quietly. I jump, causing Bilby to jump and run from the couch. My distraction worked too well—I wasn’t expecting his voice to come from behind me. I turn and see him standing in the foyer.

I’m too startled to say anything. He takes a step forward, and I take a limp back. My hip still hurts.

“Where have you been?” he asks darkly.

“Hanging out with Amelia.” He quirks a brow.

“Then why did Amelia say she hasn’t seen you in a week?”

He talked to her? Fuck.

Another step towards me. “Are you cheating on me?”

I shake my head, my heart racing. “No, of course not.”

“Then why the fuck are you lying to me?” he growls through his teeth, the look on his face starting to look more and more like a demon’s.

“I don’t know. Because I’m mad at you.”

His eyes widen in surprise for half a second before they narrow into thin slits. A derisive laugh trickles through his teeth.

“Mad at me? I’ve done nothing but take care of you this whole relationship. You have everything you could ask for. I’ve loved you and cared for you. I’ve only treated you how you deserved. If I’ve had to teach you a lesson when you get out of line, then that’s not my fucking fault,” he spits. Literally, too. Spittle flies out of his mouth as his anger increases.

“Do I not have free will, Ryan?”

He rears back. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t need your permission to live my life. If I want to go get a donut and take a walk in the park, then I’m fucking allowed to.”

His hand whips out so quickly, I don’t even see it coming. The sharp pain explodes across my cheek. I cry out, clutching a hand to my stinging flesh. I don’t even know why I’m shocked. Anger fills my body so potently, I’m convinced my blood evaporated into wisps of smoke.

I do better.

My fist flies forward and clashes with his cheek. His head jerks to the side from the force and immediately pain flares throughout my hand. It feels like I broke it.

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