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Fuck them.
And double fuck Hendrick for what feels like betrayal.
As for Jac? If I never see the beautiful monster again, it’s going to be too soon. He hurt me. It doesn’t matter if I liked it, he hurt me.
Worse, he went down on me in his room, ate me out, and made me come again. Then he fucked me hard and rough with a level of such exquisite cruelness that it sent me spiraling off in multiple orgasms.
But I expected that behavior from him. Hendrick not so much. Not that Hendrick hurt me, or got way too rough, the real heart-pounding rough like Jac, but the betrayal hurt.
No, Hendrick was almost worse than Jac.
He used the connection we seem to have. He took it and twisted it to manipulate me.
All that sweetness and pull and understanding, the slipping in beneath defenses was just to force me to play his game, throw me and our sex in Jac’s face.
Fuck them both. Hard. And not in a sexual way.
I take a breath as I place my hand against the door, my eyes burning, gritty, throat tight. It hurts to swallow, and God only knows what I look like.
I don’t have a key, but my lockpicks are in my bag and Hendrick has that. It takes me a few minutes to get the locks with the specialized hairpins I keep above the door. Hey, I’m a fucking thief. I make sure my places are protected against others of my kind.
A small laugh erupts.
I push the door open… And I freeze as a prickling sensation comes over me. I’m not alone. I turn, throwing my shoe, and it hits the shape on the sofa.
A scream breaks free, and I slap my hand over my mouth, giving in to the shaking as I recognize the shape and the rough-edged velvet sandpaper voice. “Well fuck.”
I recognize the pull in the air, too.
The same that gripped me in the hall. Exhaustion stopped me recognizing it.
“Go away, Hendrick.”
Shrugging out of Jac’s coat, I let it fall. I don’t want it touching me longer than necessary.
There’s a sharp intake of breath from Hendrick as he takes me in.
“Have a good time, did you?” he asks, sarcasm heavy in his voice. “Too good to text me back, I see.”
“Give it a rest, Hendrick.” I’m basically naked. I’m about to get completely naked, too, so I take off the cum-stained shirt and throw it at him, with the tie. “Preferably far away from here. And make sure you leave my keys on your way out.”
“I don’t have your keys.”
My bag’s sitting on the floor, and I just look at it, then I take a step forward so I can get to the bathroom. Or the bedroom. Or whatever alcohol I have. I need to wash away everything that just happened, whether that’s by taking a shower, sleeping, or by morning alcohol abuse, it doesn’t matter. Whatever it takes.
Hendrick stands, his mouth pulled in a hard line. He needs a shave, and this is the most unkempt I’ve seen him. His hair’s a mess from his hands and his tie’s loose, his jacket discarded. Funny all the things you notice when something inexorably pulls you to him.
He’s insanely hot and sexy like this. Not that he’s not those things the rest of the time, he is. This is just the animal uncaged. The one who’s fucked me. Only this time his dick isn’t out of his pants.
It’s hard though.
I drag my eyes back up and ignore the fact I’m getting wet. I don’t even know how or why because my pussy hurts.
Everything hurts.
I’ve been stretched, pounded, spanked, face fucked and thrown around like a doll. I’ve been twisted into a pretzel and, sex—no matter what my pussy’s saying—is the last thing I want or need.
“I forgot they were in there.” He gestures at the bag. Of course he went through my bag when he took my things. When he sent me like his personal whore to deliver a message to his enemy. And then that enemy retaliated by turning me into his own slut so that I could return thoroughly fucked and hurting. At least, that’s how it seemed to play out.
