AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"You're not turning tricks," he growls, rubbing his cock against my pussy, but it's not quite hard yet, just a tease.
Why is he teasing me?
What is happening?
Did he hear all that? Was he pretending to sleep just to get me to tell him how fucked up my life is, just to prove how much better he is than me? How much of a whore I am?
"You son of a bitch!" I cry out, balling my hands into fists to punch at him, but he's bigger than me in every conceivable way. A second later, he has my wrists pinned to the pillow with one hand while the other holds my jaw in place so I can't refuse his kisses.
His now sweet, gentle kisses.
Oh God.
"Shh," he whispers, but I'm not even making a sound, I'm just squirming.
"Did you hear everything?" I sob, wishing I could take back those words the moment I hear how broken my voice is. My heart pounds in my chest. I feel like I'm going to be sick.
"Yes," he admits shamelessly.
"What is wrong with you?" I snarl at him.
"A lot this weekend," he admits, but then more of those gentle kisses on my cheek, my nose, the corner of my eye. His lips feather over mine. "But this just now? Me pretending to sleep? That was right. You needed to say all of that."
"I didn't!" But there's no bite left in my tone. I'm just raw again.
He hums quietly, a single, contemplative note. "I won't take back anything I said before. You are a brat, and you are a whore, and the world owes you nothing, and I owe you nothing except fifty thousand dollars and maybe another million if everything goes well." He braves releasing my wrists just so he can nudge down my body to lay a kiss over my flat but soft belly.
My breath staggers when I realize that's what a man does when he loves his woman, and his child is growing there. I won't have that. I don't know how he is as a father, if he'll be all-in with this kid or if it'll be a trophy to be raised by a nanny, but even if he gives everything to it, this moment won't happen again.
I clear my throat, clear my head, and say, "If you wanted everything to go that well, you probably shouldn't have let every man in the zip code come inside me tonight."
A rough, smoky laugh rumbles out of him, warm on my belly. "I guess I wasn't my smartest today." He kisses his way back up, and it's late and I'm tired and my emotions have been so wrung that I'm fairly melted again when he tugs lightly on my earlobe before he says, "And you're not stupid. Never say that again."
As though knowing what I want but am unwilling to take, he guides my arms, one at a time, around his waist as I say, "No, I am. I dropped out of high school when I turned eighteen, and I never even passed tenth grade."
He nips my earlobe more firmly this time, making me whine as though I haven't recently had my tits electrocuted. "That doesn't mean you're stupid," he says forcefully. "It means you learn differently. You probably have a learning disability because of those drugs your mom did while she was carrying you. And no one ever bothered to put in the work to get you diagnosed and treated. Those people didn't give up on you because you're stupid or bad, they gave up on you because it's a bad system and there are too many kids like you and too few families willing to put the effort in to help you."
I turn my head away from him. "It doesn't matter."
He surprises me by saying, "You're right. Nothing will change what's already happened, and knowing it's not right won't give you any advantage." He surprises me again by finally sliding his cock into me, but he does so slowly, gently, like I wasn't just split in half by nine men and fucked until I passed out.
Like I'm precious.
I hug him more tightly, and his hand rubs up and down my side as he rocks in and out. "And youarea brat, but that's not why you struggled when you were little, and they should never have called you that when you were grieving."
"No one died," I protest.
"Your entire life was taken from you," he points out, resting his forehead on mine, tilting his body so his hand can brush over my stomach. "You were a little kid, and you were losing everything you had, and I bet you knew it was because your mom had failed you."
"Fuck," I breathe out.
He chuckles and brings our lips back together, more sweet pecks that accentuate each gradual thrust. It should feel wrong to feelgoodduring this conversation, but it doesn't.
We're silent for a long time after that, holding each other so close that I feel him everywhere, that it doesn't matter that he's hardly thrusting, because his breathing alone is enough to make my body sing. His hands go into my hair – I guess he unbraided it, although I don't remember that – and his fingers along my scalp make me purr. In the dark, in the silence, we're nothing but body and body, man and woman and touch and feel and crave and need and more
and more
and more
