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“Don’t speak about him,” I blurt, already feeling uncomfortable. I don’t need this Freudian shit. I don’t need this psychoanalysis.
“But I think you grew up needing attention and you never got it. Is that why you behave this way?”
“I behave this way because it’s my personality.”
Skylar’s hand fists in my hair, pulling my head back and forcing me to look into his eyes. “No. It’s not. Tell me the truth. You grew up on your own. Alone. You act out because you need someone to fuckingseeyou.”
I can’t move my head, but I can roll my eyes. I do it three times because I refuse to answer him. I feel so fucking vulnerable in this moment, like someone is peeling me open.
I loathe it. Loathe every painstaking moment of it.
Skylar continues to stare down at me, those eyes glinting as he watches me intently.
“Hm, well, you can ignore it all you want, but I know I’m right. Let’s give you some attention then. Let’s give you what you need.”
My cock instantly hardens, ready for whatever he’s going to do to me. I refuse to admit he’s right. I haven’t ever considered the truth of it all, but a part of me acknowledges that it makes sense.
Not that I’m going to cry over it. My childhood was what it was. No tears can change that. My father did the best he could when my mother died. I don’t blame him for a goddamn thing.
“I don’t need attention,” I manage to say, even though I don’t sound convincing. I sound desperate, like a cat in heat. I want to rub against his leg and purr.
It’s pathetic.
“We’ll see about that. Now, lie down, ass up,” he says but I put up a fight, kicking out my legs and catching him in the stomach. I know it’s no use, but I do it anyways. Skylar laughs as he manhandles me into position, his body on top of mine, his fingers holding my wrists above my head. Those thick, strong thighs of his pin my own against the mattress. I can’t see him, but I can feel every inch of him.
“Get off of me,” I wheeze.
But instead of listening, he just seems to sink into me further, making it hard to breathe. And yes, my pathetic dick likes it far too much, likes just being near him. He’s the best bodyguard I’ve ever had. A promotion is in the works for him. I can feel it.
“I think I won’t,” he replies, his lips brushing up the back of my neck. “I think I’ll stay right here and do what I want with you. You deserve a punishment after behaving like that.”
Oh god yes.
“Were there ever any consequences for your bad behavior growing up? Is that why you crave it? You need some order in your life.”
I don’t answer, don’t want these psychological questions when my ass just wants to get pounded. This isn’t therapy. This is sex.
“I think that’s why you do it. Your father did you a disservice, but I can rectify that.”
“As long as it’s in my rectum,” I hiss and Skylar laughs.
“Oh, is that what you want? Want me to fuck you?”
His hips punch down against my ass, and I let out a long, desperate groan.
“No, I don’twantit. I don’t want itat all,” I say but he does it again, pulling the same response out of me, and I realize I’m a lousy liar. I’m usually much better than this, wiggling out of even the most precarious of situations, but Skylar seems to have managed to pull the truth right out of me.
He should work for the government with those skills.
Or become a magician.
“I shouldn’t fuck you. Absolutely not. That’s above my pay grade, but Ican,” he says as he grinds into me again. “I definitelycan.”
“Oh, don’t pretend you don’t want it. I feel your hard dick against me.”
Skylar huffs out a small breath. “It’s a biological response to your sass. It does things to me, apparently. Never knew I liked it until I started working for you.”
He pulls off of me and my fingers grab on to the edge of the mattress. It takes me a few seconds to try and squirm out of his hold, to at least put up the appearance of a fight.
