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“Don’t youevertalk to me like that in front of my men.”
“I thought they wereourmen,” I hiss. “Ourfriends. Andourmoney.”
“Call them what you like. But don’t undermine me. If you have something to say, you say it to me.Alone.”
“Undermine you?” I let out a laugh of pure outrage. “What do you think you just did in front of Jasper? You fucking humiliated me!”
His lip curls up in a snarl. “You push me, Sabrina. You push me and fucking push me.”
“Oh yeah? And what happens when you snap?”
He seizes me by the throat again. For a second I think he’s going to strangle me—until our mouths crash together and he’s kissing me with all the rage built up inside of him. Making me taste the blood from his lip. Making me take his tongue all the way in my mouth.
He shoves his hand down my pants again, thrusting his fingers inside of me, fucking me with his hand. I’m still enraged, but that blazing heat is all concentrated in one place, and my body isn’t taking orders from my brain, it’s caught up in the need, the fucking command, to impale myself on his fingers.
The urge is irresistible. I’m already halfway there, my arms around his neck, one leg hooked around his hip, fucking his hand.
I’m an animal. Adrik is right, I have no control over myself.
I fucking hate him in this moment, but I can’t stop needing him, not even for a second.
I’m humping his hand, pressing my whole body against him, clinging to his neck, whimpering and moaning. It’s fucking pathetic. And still it’s not enough. I kiss him wildly so I can taste his mouth, so I can inhale his scent.
He flips me over, bending me over the bench, ripping my jeans down around my knees. He puts his palm in the middle of my back, shoving down, and thrusts into me from behind. His cock tears into me, stiff as a pipe. He’s fucking me hard and vicious, his hips slapping against my ass.
I need it hard. I want it harder. I’m gripping the edge of the bench with both hands, my knuckles white.
He fucks me and fucks me, my tits swinging, our bodies slapping together. Now he’s gripping my hips with both hands, plowing into me, punishing me with his cock.
I want the anger. I want the violence. I want to rip and throw and smash everything in this room. I want to pour gasoline around the basement and set the house on fire.
I’m angry and I’m fucking frustrated. I want to be respected and I want to be worthy of respect, but I’m ruled by my temper and my emotions, and I don’t know how to stop.
I’m already starting to cum, crying out loud enough that Jasper will hear it upstairs, everyone will hear it. They’ll know I’m just a whore that likes to be fucked, bent over like a beast.
Adrik lets out a roar, giving one last thrust deep inside me. His hands shake, his fingers digging into my hips.
Then he lets go of me and takes a step back. His cock pulls out of me, his cum running down the inside of my thigh.
I pull up my jeans, my fingers trembling too much to do up the zipper.
I can’t look at him. I can’t meet his eye.
Maybe Adrik is embarrassed, too. He’s quiet, dressing quickly, finding my shirt and bringing it over to me. He pulls it over my head, dressing me like a child.
Still without speaking, he scoops me up in his arms and carries me upstairs.
I turn my head against his chest so I won’t have to see Jasper or anyone else.
Adrik carries me up to our room. He lays me on the bed. I hear the pipes shuddering as he runs water in the tub.
It takes several minutes for the tub to fill. I lay on my side on the bed, looking at the wall, trying not to think about anything. I wish I could shut my brain off like a computer. I wish I could wipe my memory.
When Adrik returns, he undresses me once more. He carries me to the huge old copper tub, much larger than a normal bath. He places me in water so warm that my skin immediately turns a rich, ruddy sienna.
Sometimes I feel like there are two people inside of me: one who’s relatively reasonable and one who’s completely insane. When the madness passes, all I can do is look around at the wreckage and wonder who that other Sabrina was. Where does she come from and where does she go? And which one of us is the real Sabrina?
I’m afraid it’s her. This person who sits in a bath, calm and lucid, is only an illusion. A mask I wear until the real Sabrina returns.
