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“Shit! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” She cries, her eyes widening as she stares at the wound.
“It’s fine. Here,” I hand her the taped stitch after I pull it apart.
“Tape from here to here,” I say, pressing her fingers to where mine sit.
She follows the direction and we repeat this until the small wound is sealed with taped stitches, her fingers covered with my blood.
“Clean yourself. I got the rest,” I say, grabbing the gauze and wrapping it around my arm as she goes to the sink and begins washing her hands.
I finish wrapping the gauze, sealing the wound with bandaging before I move around her to wash my hands when she's done. She stares at me the entire time, her nipples poking through the silk fabric of her nightdress, my cock already standing to attention.
"Want to talk about what happened?" She asks, crossing her arms over her chest and covering the lovely view I was taking solace in.
"Not really,” I say, leaning against the sink as I gaze at her.
She scoffs and leaves the bathroom in an instant, walking back into the bedroom to resume her previous spot on the bed, her fingers fidgeting with the camera.
"Why so hasty?" I ask, sitting next to her as she shakes her head at me.
"If you don't want to talk, then I won't force you. You got my help, now you can go," she says stubbornly. Her agitation viable as I look at her.
Her hair is wild today, appearing more red than usual from the light of the fireplace. My gaze travels to the chair that I fucked her in earlier, my cock as hard as steel as I remember it all. She was so giving, so eager and willing to do whatever I asked of her then, that I can't help but feel frustrated with the cold way she is acting now.
"Are you angry that I left you after we fucked?" I ask, tilting my head at her as a sweet blush hits her face.
Always so expressive.
"No. I'm angry that you come in here and constantly show me a side of you, a vulnerable side that you are unwilling to show anyone else. I'm angry because you don't trust me even though you still show me that side. And then you act cold when I try to get inside your head and see what you're thinking," she says, still looking at the camera as she speaks.
"I told you why I can't trust you, Lori," I say, my hand moving towards her thigh.
Her head snaps in my direction then, those hazel eyes pinned to mine when she fires her venom at me.
"I know you did, okay? I remember all of it and I was willing to accept that, willing to accept the fact that all we are or ever can be is toxic fuck buddies. Then you come in here and ask me to stitch you up because your mom's asleep and you don't want anyone else to see you weak, to see you as a human in need. But you show me that. And then you hide yourself away. So forgive me if I get a little confused here, Marco. You're the king of whiplash!" She cries. She moves to get off of the bed, but my hand snaps out to stop her, circling around her wrist.
"Enough of the attitude," I say to her in warning, her eyes sparking with fresh fury.
"Or what?" She hisses, her defiance causing my cock to now harden to the point of pain.
I yank her back to the bed, pinning her beneath me as I grab both of her hands and pin them above her head, one of her breasts falling from her nightgown.
"You test me beyond belief, woman,” I say, before I claim her lips with mine, swallowing her gasp of surprise as I start to devour her.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Lori
His kiss is hard and urgent, startling me with its passion. He feels wild right now, nearly out of control as he pins me to the bed and kisses me. I have no choice but to fall into it, or at least, that’s what I tell myself. My body responds quicker than my mind even can, but that’s what he does to me. That’s Marco De Vico, unhinged.
“Are you going to tie me up?” I ask when he pulls away.
“Do you want me to?” He asks, my heart fluttering at his words becausehe asked.
I stare at him for a moment, my eyes flicking all over his face, trying to grab onto whatever detail that I can. When I swallow and meet his eyes, I nod.
“Jesus,” he groans. “How I love it when you’re like this,” he says, his words lighting a fire inside of me.
He reaches over to the nightstand, opening the drawer and searching around for something. When he closes it and pulls out a metal item, my head fills with confusion.
