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"You're a terrible liar," I say.
She sniffles.
"What are you afraid of?" I ask her, forcing her to look up at me.
Her blue eyes blink twice before she answers.
"You," she murmurs to me, swallowing against my hand.
"Good," I say. "Then you can stop being afraid of living."
I kiss her, and it's not sweet or gentle. It's a punishment for everything she's put me through, for her continued refusal to see herself for what she is, and to care whether she lives or dies. I hope it conveys everything I haven't said to her yet. I hope it screams that I wanteach and every part of her, her robbed childhood, her insecurities and doubts, her fears and nightmares,everything. I need them, and I'll burn the answers out of her if I have to.
She raises her hands, trying to push me away, but I'm too strong, or maybe she's too weak. I keep her there, pressed against the wall, and I know I should make her choose, but there's something in the way she smells, like ocean water and strawberries that makes me ravenous. I kiss her again, only this time I reach between us and tear at her underwear and her skirt, yanking them off and sending them to the floor. It's messy. Elbows and knees hit as our arms and legs tangle. I kiss her again, and she fights me. She pushes me away with two hands in a brutal shove that lands like a baseball bat to my sternum. Then she pulls me to her, reeling me back, kissing me once again.
"I hate you," she tells me against my lips.
"Only because no one else has given a fuck about you before, and you don't know how to feel about it," I clap back.
She forces me away again with a snarl, and she's gorgeous, her lips swollen and puffy and her blue eyes swimming in unshed tears. She yanks me back a second time, kissing me.
"I want to hate you," she says as she pushes me away again.
"Now that, I believe," I agree.
I feel the exact moment she gives in to me. The taste of victory mixes with salt on her tongue as she flattens her mouth to mine and tugs me even closer.
"It doesn't mean anything if we fuck," she says, panting and out of breath.
"Liar," I hiss.
Her shirt and bra go next until she's gloriously naked in front of me. I prefer my women with a little more meat on their bones, literally, but fuck if the light isn't hitting her strawberry blonde hair just right at the moment, transforming it into churning rapids of fire. Strands fall to caress her shoulders and tickle her rose-colored nipples where they've wrangled free from her ponytail.
I thrust two fingers inside of her pussy, and she nearly comes off the bed.
"Gabe!" she shrieks.
"That's my name, baby girl," I murmur against her lips with a growl. "I expect you to scream it by the time we're over."
I thrust in her again, bringing my thumb to play with her clit. I'm not gentle about it, but she's already soaking wet and ready for me. I fuck her hard and fast with my fingers until she's writhing between me and the bed, her body covered in a sheen of sweat despite the cold.
"I'm going to come," she says, arching her beautiful spine.
"Not yet, baby girl," I tell her. "First I need this perfect little pussy to strangle my cock."
I undo my belt, shove down my boxers just enough to free myself, and shove inside of her in one brutal thrust. She screams, her mouth catching open at the sound, and I tear the rest of our clothes off as the mirrors show everything. The sharp edge of her hipbone, her narrow waist below her ribs, her small beasts starved to almost nothing. I fuck her hard, and she screams again, her nails reaching up to scrape at my back. The bed jolts and creaks as I punish her.
I don't want to stop. I don't want to ever stop. But more than that, I want her to feel the heat of my body and the brutal impale of my cock, my balls hitting her taint, and how angry I am.
I'm angry too, even angrier than before because now that I've had her pussy, I know that there's no coming back. Not now, not for me, not ever.
She willnevertake it away.
"Goddamn," I tell her, "your pussy is heaven, baby girl."
She murmurs something on a breath, but it's unintelligible. She doesn't get it. She can't because girls like her get the stars and the moon, and I get the rot and decay far below. Heaven isn't attainable for a man like me. I don't get to go to those pearly gates, not in this life or the next, except when I'm with her. Now that I've had a taste, I won't ever be able to give it up.
I yank one of her legs over my shoulder, grabbing behind her thigh, and pound into her even deeper. She cries out, and I feel her walls start to flutter around me. She's about to come, and I want to let her. My balls tighten, and it takes everything in me to not follow her, but I don't. I stop moving. She's been bad. She doesn't deserve to come, not yet.
