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When he’s emptied himself completely, a sharp breath hisses between his teeth as he tilts my head back and forces my gaze to his.
“Swallow,” he orders.
I do as he bids, and it sends a swell of satisfaction through me as he watches with hot, possessive eyes. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I like this far more than I probably should.
He seems to be having the same thought when a beat passes, and he withdraws from my mouth, tucking himself back into his jeans. Any pleasure he may have derived from the act has fled in the blink of an eye. Now, his features are tight, and he doesn’t look like he knows what he wants to do with me.
“Get up,” he says gruffly. “I’m taking you home.”
“No.”
His gaze narrows on me. “Yes.”
“I did as you told me, so make me come.” I spread my thighs and slide my fingers between my legs without an ounce of modesty. I want him to see. I want him to make me feel good.
The pulse in his neck jumps, picking up speed. “I told you this wasn’t for you.”
“I don’t care what you told me.”
He doesn’t reply, and he doesn’t bend to my will either. It pisses me the hell off, so I stand and march back toward the clubhouse.
“I’ll find someone who will, then.”
I make it two steps before he’s yanking me back against his chest.
“I meant what I said,” he warns me. “You try it, and you won’t like the consequences.”
I crane my neck to glare up at him. “Then give me what I want.”
His eyes travel down my body, and I don’t doubt that he’s thinking about fucking me again. But he’s too proud to admit it.
“You want to come?” he asks menacingly.
I nod.
He slaps my thigh and makes me spread my legs, slipping his fingers to exactly where I need them. He slowly circles my clit with his fingers, and my knees nearly buckle.
“Is this what you wanted?” His lips graze my ear, the heat making me shiver.
“Yes.” My head falls back against his chest, and I close my eyes.
Slap.
My eyes fly open, and I release a strangled noise from my lips, only for him to do it again. I jerk in his arms, and he tightens his grip on me, rumbling his command as he slaps my pussy.
“Ask me nicely.”
“Ahhh—” I hiss. “Please. I’ll be good from now on, I promise. I swear it.”
He growls into me, and I lose myself to his roughness, his scent, and his hard body against my back. It’s on the verge of being too intense at times, and sometimes even past it, but I’m not telling him to stop. My nipples poke against the thin fabric of my dress, and goose bumps break out along my skin as he soothes the sting of his slaps by rubbing my clit.
“Oh God,” I blurt out. “Madden, please—”
He slaps me again so hard it sends me right over the edge, possessing me as my orgasm rips through me. I let out an indecipherable sound as my body shudders against him, spasms rocking through me as the light disappears from my eyes and static fills my ears.
I sag into him, and he holds me upright, letting me catch my breath for a single minute before he turns me around and glares at me.
“I told you not to say that name.”
Chapter 36
Madden
—PAST—
I’m lying in bed, staring at my ceiling as I listen to the music vibrating through the walls. Our parents are out of town again, so Adam is throwing another party tonight. Which means Bianca is downstairs with him, and I don’t want to see them together.
I’m holed up in the cottage, wishing I had a joint to pass the time. But instead, all I have are the thoughts in my head to entertain me. Thoughts I’m getting sick of playing on repeat. The same as this fucking music. This scenery. All of it. I’m over it.
I keep thinking about my future and the crushing weight of my reality. It rattles around my brain, day and night, constant reminders of how much everyone wants me gone. Bianca’s dad is so desperate to cut me from the picture, he tried to buy me a one-way ticket out of this family. And then there’s Stefan's endless remarks that my days here are numbered. He lets me know it at every opportunity. Mom is getting anxious, desperately throwing out ideas where she can send me instead of opening her mouth in my defense. Not that it matters. I wouldn’t want to stay here even if I could.
Every time I think I’ve settled on my plan, my thoughts drift back to Bianca and her fucking lies. There’s a growing sickness in my gut as my disbelief turns to anger. She made me think she was a victim. She twisted me up and fucked with my head, and for what? Some sort of game?
