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We rock together faster and faster, the car bouncing with our motion as the smell of sex and sweat gets denser. She is so fucking close to the peak.
So am I.
Then, right when it’s about to happen, I slam my mouth onto hers, swallowing her scream. I feel the first burst of her orgasm and it pushes me over the edge.
I grunt as I bury myself in her. Her pussy clamps down on me, milking every last drop.
After what feels like an eternity, with a mournful sigh, I let her go. My eyes lull closed and Alyssa plasters herself against me.
We stay like that for a long time, drifting in and out of awareness. And then my attention focuses on something: Alyssa's fingers at the back of my head. She's curling them through my hair and it occurs to me out of absolutely fucking nowhere that this gesture is a billion times more intimate than anything I should be allowing. It's the most brutal post-orgasm clarity of my life. Like I'm only just now hearing the whole fucking chorus of voices in my head screaming,THIS IS A MISTAKE.
Bringing her into my world. Letting her see into the dark nooks and crannies. I told her about myparents, for fuck's sake. I let her bond with Lev. I let her bond with me!
And now, she thinks we can hold each other in a hot, sweaty car, still vibrating with each other's pleasure, and do things like stroke hair or hold hands.
I can't allow that.
Not for her sake.
Not for mine.
38
ALYSSA
Something shifts, and I don’t know when it happened. One moment, we’re having the best car sex in the history of vehicular fornication—the next, Uri is holding part of himself away from me. I can feel it, sense it, as surely as if he slammed a door in my face and pocketed the key.
The car ride home is silent. He says nothing and doesn’t touch me as we park and get out. I’m heading up the stairs when Uri stops suddenly. I turn to look at him, wondering why his face looks so stormy. “It’s Friday,” he rumbles.
“So?”
His jaw is clenched tight. “Our arrangement still stands.”
His eyes veer towards the basement door and I freeze. Hadn’t we eaten together? Gone out together? Exchanged stories about past traumas and the loved ones we’d lost?
Was that all in my head? The way he’s looking at me now says,Did you really think you were any different than the women who came before you?
“Will you at least tell me why?” I croak.
“No.”
He seems to swallow up the entire night in that one small word. Everything I experienced tonight, everything I felt, is washed away like it meant nothing at all.
“Is it because you’re entertaining another woman up here?”
His face doesn’t shift at all. “It doesn’t matter why. You’ll go down to the basement because I told you to. You promised to behave. Now, fuckingbehave.”
And just like that, with just a few words, he’s reduced me down to a prisoner. He’s put me back in my place and reminded me of the truth of our situation. I’m not his guest or his friend and I’m certainly not his girlfriend. He’s not beholden to me for anything. He doesn’t owe me any explanations.
He just says jump. I ask only how high.
I shove past him and descend into the basement. The moment I walk through that door, the darkness hits me and I feel a sob at the back of my throat.
What fresh hell is this? How am I back here after a week of freedom?
But I was never really free, now, was I? It was all just an illusion.
I got caught up in the moment, drawn to his confidence and his charisma. Wrapped up in the brother and the son that he was. Taken by how protective he seemed to be of the people closest to him.
