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“I’m fucking serious, Beast.”
“So am I. No.”
“You don’t get to say no.”
“I just did. Twice. And I’ll say it as many times as we need to have this conversation. No. You’re not going back there, end of story.”
I opened my mouth and closed it again, reaching around for my anger. It was still there, but dodging my grabs like a wild animal loose in the house, trying to find a safe spot to collect itself. This wasn’t exactly what I’d expected.
“Everything’s okay,” he told me. “You don’t need to freak out.”
“I’m not freaking out. I just can’t stay here. This whole idea is ridiculous.” Also, I was definitely freaking out.
“You packed your own bag. You got in the car. You want to be here. Or at the very least you don’t want to be there.”
Bam, four shots to the head, what the fuck was I supposed to say to that.
“I wasn’t in my right mind.”
That was actually true, but he still wasn’t having it.
“You’ve probably never been in your right mind. Maybe it’s time to see what that’s like.”
I just stared at him. He really did seem like a pushover until he trotted out shit like that, brutal shit that made me want to punch him and suck his dick at the same time.
He slid closer and put his arm around me, and maybe if he’d waited an extra minute I would have been cool with it, ready to give in, but I wasn’t there yet.
“Fuck you.” I elbowed out of his hold, annoyed when I slammed hard into his chest and it made zero fucking impact, like I was slamming a wall.
“Settle down,” he told me, and that did not settle me down.
It turned me into a complete fucking maniac, twisting and turning and shoving and growling, had me going on an absolute frustration bender someone should probably cuff me for, and he did just that, basically, grabbing both my wrists and squeezing tight, and in a snap, I remembered how much I liked it when he held me that way.
“Settle. Down,” he repeated, leaning close and looking serious. “Listen to me. I get that it’s overwhelming, and it probably feels like you made a big decision without thinking it through, and maybe you did. But it’s done. I’m not taking you back to live in a drug pit where the ceiling’s falling in and you’re afraid for your life every night. I’mnot. You can be as mad as you want about that, but this is not how you’re going to behave. You ease that temper back down or you’re going to get a spanking.”
I was already breathing hard, my whole body hot with too many feelings I didn’t know how to feel. Anger I couldn’t get out and terror I couldn’t pin down and more frustration than I knew what to do with. It was like the edgy energy that built up in the off season, but worse, uglier.
Him seeing me like this was embarrassing. Him telling me to knock it off or he’d spank me was fucking mortifying. Infuriating. And part of me wanted it so fucking bad. Not just my dick either.
He loosened his grip on my wrists, but didn’t let go, and we both waited to see what I’d do. I didn’t like being trusted, and I didn’t like being tested, and it seemed like he was doing both. I guess, ultimately, I was looking to trust him and test him back when I kicked at him.
Not hard, and I must have telegraphed it so clearly because he grabbed behind my knee before my toes had barely brushed his shin, and he had me flipped over on my stomach before I could blink. Wrestling. Another sport he’d fucking dominate if he wasn’t such a nerd.
I grabbed hold of the sheets, waited for him to yank down my sweats and fire up my ass again, but instead he climbed right on top of me, crushing me, smothering me into the mattress, finding my hands and layering his right on top. Not holding hands, not exactly, but something close.
He wassoheavy, like shockingly heavy, and I was used to having piles of huge guys in pads on top of me. Also, his dick was rock hard, pressing against my ass through our clothes, and okay, this was a twist I didn’t see coming but I wasn’t mad about it.
He just stayed there, holding me down, so quiet all I could hear was myself breathing hard and fast. After awhile, he started to stroke the backs of my wrists with his thumbs, and my breathing got slower, and finally he leaned close.
“I told you not to do that. Didn’t I?”
I scraped my teeth across my bottom lip, trying to stay mad, but it was hard. I felt so much I was sick inside, trying so hard to balance so many fucking problems, and I just wanted it all to go away. “Yes,” I ground out.
“Yes, what?”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Those fluttery nerves were still there, but so was that strong, hard, greedywantin my stomach when I opened my mouth.
“Yes, Daddy.”
