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“About you, baby,” he interrupted. “Our room. Now.”
He stepped back just enough for me to slip by him and I forced my legs to carry me away. I couldn’t begin to guess why my stomach was tying itself into knots with every step I took, or why it got so much worse with each step of his that I could hear right behind me. I couldn’t even come up with anything I’d done recently that would’ve genuinely pissed him off for me to feel like I was a fucking child about to get in trouble. And the smirk that sat across his stupid fucking face looked so amused that it made it even worse when I looked back at him over my shoulder. I stopped right inside the bedroom door just to remain close to an exit, and then I realized I was a dumbass. There was no realm where he was going to let me turn around and leave now just because I stayed close to the door. His hand on the small of my back a second later pushed me the rest of the way into the room anyway so he could close the door.
“I told you that Utah wasn’t into m—.”
Jersey’s entire arm swung around my body to clap his hand over my mouth.
“I swear to God, Triss,” he breathed against my neck. “I’ll fuck his name right out of this mouth. You’re going to learn that mine is the only one allowed on your tongue, and you’re going to learn it now. On your knees, baby.”
He let go of me and walked across the room to close the curtains. He smiled when he turned back to me to see that I was still standing right where he left me. I really hadn’t intended to ignore his command, but my brain’s messages definitely weren’t reaching my legs. I almost didn’t need my brain’s involvement when he walked right back at me and didn’t stop until my chin was pretty much in his chest while I stared straight up at him. I did everything in my power to stay perfectly still when his fingers started at the hairline at my temple and moved down to my cheek.
“I’m already going to hurt you, Fancy Face. Don’t make it worse for yourself,” he whispered. My eyes closed on their own when those fingers trailed down my neck. That still hurt. Hell, it was still bruised. But I plastered the rest of my body into place to make sure he couldn’t see the hint of panic about his hands there again. Basic fucking instinct told me that he was still worth my fear, but something way deeper inside me was louder in reminding me that he’d allowed me to see just how broken his heart really was. If he were to see even a glimpse of my hesitation over what had happened, it’d ruin us both.
“Why?” I managed to ask when his hand ventured down between my breasts.
He smirked. “Get. On. Your. Knees.”
I figured out how to follow through that time and was on the floor a second later, nearly afraid to even look up at him. He paced around behind me and I felt his fingertips graze my shoulders while he swept all my hair to one side. He untied the top string of my bikini and then the one around my back. I watched the little fabric triangles fall across my knees, until he grabbed some of my hair and pulled it so my neck was craned and forcing me to look up at where he stood behind me. He hadn’t grabbed anywhere near enough of my hair. I could feel the strands breaking, could feel others being ripped from the roots. A hundred tiny pinpricks all at once had me reaching for his wrist.
“I’ve spent weeks wondering why I haven’t killed that boy for looking at you,” he said. “Weeks wondering why I haven’t killed his Judge for running his fucking mouth. Wondering why I haven’t even so much as made them leave this house to give myself the fucking peace and quiet.”
His free hand went to my breast and his thumb brushed back and forth across my nipple for a few seconds before he pinched it between his fingers until I winced.
“You, baby,” he said. “It’s because of you.”
He didn’t just let go of my hair. He used it to push me away from him before he knelt beside me to untie the strings at both my hips. He forced his hand in between my thighs to shove them apart and then he dragged the full length of his hand from his fingertips to his palm across my clit and down to where I was already dripping for his touch.
“Fuck,” he groaned against the side of my head when two of his fingers pushed into me. “This fucking pussy that’s always screaming for my attention. Tell me, Fancy Face, how does your ass feel about me?”
I had no doubt that he could hear the sharp, panicked breath that I sucked in after that. Then the motherfucker withdrew his fingers just to slap my clit. I crumpled forward into his chest just for him to push me back. His hand went right back between my legs and he picked up the pace to drag the pads of his fingers back and forth across my clit until I was leaning into him again and I sank my teeth into the Marine tattoo across his chest. He froze right before that orgasm claimed me, and I considered biting right through the skin that was between my teeth. He stood and walked to the bed while he untied the drawstring through his swim trunks.
“Get over here,” he said. I raised one whole fucking knee from the floor before his tone changed and scared me still again. “I didn’t say you could stand. I said get over here.”
I could feel my cheeks heat up at what he was suggesting, but the look on his face told me as clearly as fucking could be that he was serious.
“I won’t tell you nicely again, baby.”
Nicely.
What a fucking joke.
I leaned forward to also put my hands on the floor to start crawling across the carpet toward this man who’d already told me that he intended to hurt me for his enjoyment.
CHAPTER SIXTY
jersey
The sight of her crawling toward me on all fours was almost more than I could handle. For some reason, I expected her to put up a fight. I expected her to make it difficult. Watching her just fucking do it made me want to demand even more to see if I couldn’t find her breaking point.
“Look at me, Fancy Face.”
She paused for just a second to raise those black coffee eyes to my face, and I was suddenly concerned that I wasn’t even going to win my own fucking game. I had to fucking convince myself to stay right where I was to wait for her to make it the rest of the way to me. She stopped at my feet to sit back on her own heels and look up at me. I ran my hand all the way up her throat to drag my thumb across her lips.
“Open.”
I pushed my entire thumb into her mouth as soon as she did as I said, and I left it just sitting on her tongue.
“You’re going to suck my dick until I say you can stop.” She didn’t even so much as blink. “You don’t stop until I say. You can gag. Choke. Cry. You can beg. But you won’t stop.”
