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“Charlotte?”
“How many times are you going to ask?” I turn my back on him, ripping off the towel as I head over to the bags of clothes we bought. I grab a pair of jeans and flick them open, making Arrow jolt in surprise at the snap of fabric. “Yes! Yes! A thousand fucking times, yes!”
“Charlotte—”
I spin around to face him, frowning. “I’m a big girl, daddy.”
A dark looks creeps over his face as he takes a slow step toward me. “Do I really need to explain to you how dangerous this could be? Not just physically, but mentally?Emotionally?”
I cock an eyebrow. “I thought exposure therapy was all the rage.” I knew I went too far the moment the words fell out of my mouth.
Fyre closes the distance between us in a single lunge, and before I can bleat out a word of apology, he’s got me pinned down on the bed, a hand on my throat and his full weight already sinking between my legs. His eyes narrow as he gives my face a fleeting scan.
“I’m starting to think you enjoy the pain. Are you a masochist?”
I could fight him. But I don’t want to. Funny, how love changes the context of a situation so radically.
Fyre rips away the jeans that got between our bodies, and forces open my thighs with his hips. He tests my pussy with a swipe of his hand, an arrogant smile touching his mouth. “Of course, you are. And I bet you’ll just lie there and take it like the masochistic little whore that you are.”
As much as I don’t want to fight him, I know when I do, he enjoys it so much more. “You’d prefer I tried to claw out your eyes?”
He chuckles. “I mean, you could try—”
I barely hold back a yell of fury as I slash out with clawed fingers. Credit to Fyre—as surprised as he is, he catches my hand well before it can touch his face.
As if the unexpected attack was some kind of code word, Fyrechanges.The lust in his eyes is replaced with something feral, a dark hedonism that sends a tremor of fear through my body…closely followed by a hard, aching need to be filled. Rough…and hard.
He uses one hand to press my wrists together on the mattress above my head, the other to shove his cock into my dripping pussy. I cry out when he slams in, turning my head to the side, but watching him in morbid fascination from the corner of my eye.
I did this. I unleashed this monster.
The way my body comes alive under his violent, unforgiving thrusts, I wouldn’t take it back for the world. He arches over me, his face inches from mine as his hips ram against my thighs. Every thrust sends his thick, hard cock balls-deep inside me, but from the wet smack our bodies makes, I’m more than compensating for his aggression with the amount of lube gushing out of me.
“And here I thought you wouldn’t do it,” he hisses in my ear. “Dirty little whore like you, you’d probably enjoy spending some more time out at that lake house.”
His words should have chilled me. He knows what a wreck I’ve been since we’ve returned to civilization. We both know how close we came to never making it out of there alive.
He’d have died long before me, though.
But he really dug up a gem with that exposure therapy thing, because when I’m being fucked rough like this, by a man I trust, it’s a whole other story. Instead of feeling victimized, I’m empowered. He tries to break me with every thrust, but my body takes all of him and begs for more. My body is already climbing to a suicidally high precipice, and I can’t wait to take the plunge.
I know exactly how to spur him on.
“Please,” I mewl, “you’re hurting me.”
It isn’t a lie. There’s too much heat, too much pressure down there. But this pain is a hundred times better than the one Peter caused all those months ago. That deep, ephemeral ache no doctor could diagnose. The one that went away after I met Fyre. The one that came back a few days ago like the worst period cramp I’ve ever had.
I still haven’t told Fyre about it. I don’t want him knowing I’ve been permanently damaged. I’m hoping that maybe, just maybe, Fyre can make it go away again.
Fyre drops his head, nipping my ear hard enough to make me gasp, and then leaves another mark on my shoulder when he scraps his teeth over my skin.
“You love it when I hurt you,” he says. “I could make you bleed, and you’d thank me.” As if to prove his point, he catches my bottom lip between his teeth and nips hard enough to draw blood.
When he kisses me, the pain is fleeting, almost immediately swallowed by a deep swell of pleasure. My pussy clamps over his cock as I come, but he doesn’t even stay inside long enough for me to enjoy it. He pulls out, grabs my hips, and flips me onto my tummy. His entire weight is pinning me a moment later, my legs splayed wide as he gives my pussy a stinging slap.
“Did I say you could come?”
“Fuck!” I mutter into the sheets, my toes curling at the mixed signals going haywire through my body.
