Page 26 of Make You Mine


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I forced back a grimace, trying to keep my pain from showing on my face. My period was going to start any minute now, and thankfully, we were almost back at Rhett’s house. The only issue was that he lived outside of the city on a secluded property, so the drive took longer than I thought it would.

“Are you going to continue sitting over there in pain, or are you going to tell me what you need?” Rhett asked.

I turned my head, glowering at him. I didn’t do well with my period cramps; I never had. And I hated that he was reading me so damn easily.

“I’m fine,” I muttered, turning to look back out the window.

“Lying only earns you a punishment, baby girl. I’ll give you another chance since you’re hurting.”

“I said I’m fine!” I snapped at him.

I squeaked when he gripped my thigh and yanked my legs apart. My cheeks heated in mortification. “Rhett—what—no!” I yelled, smacking his hand. But he just shoved my hand aside and then cupped me through my panties. My cheeks heated in mortification.

He hummed and slid my panties to the side before sliding his fingers inside of me. I covered my face with my hands, moaning all while shame filled me.

I was pretty sure I had already started bleeding.

“Uncover your face, Natalia,” he ordered.

I quickly dropped my hands, my mouth opening in a silent O, the breath stolen from my lungs when he curled his fingers just right, hitting a sweet spot inside of me. “There it is, baby girl.” He never took his eyes off the road, but I knew he could tell I was enjoying this despite being absolutely mortified that I was bleeding on his fingers.

“We’re almost home, baby girl. You going to come for me before we get there?”

“I’m bleeding,” I whispered. If I orgasmed while bleeding, I’d make a mess. He and I both knew that.

A wide grin spread over his lips. “I know, baby girl. I don’t give a fuck. I want you to come for me. Make a mess on my seats and ruin your dress. I’ll fucking enjoy replacing it and paying someone to clean my car.”

I whimpered, drawing closer to the edge. He rubbed my clit, curling his fingers again, and I came undone, crying out his name as I came on his fingers, ruining his seat and my dress, just like he wanted me to.

He pulled into the driveway and then came to a stop. Turning to me, he grasped a handful of my hair, yanking my head around to face him. I panted, moaning low in my throat when pain lanced through my scalp.

“The next time you lie to me when you’re in pain, I’ll bend you over my fucking knees and spank you to the point you can’t sit on your ass, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes,” I told him, tears burning in my eyes. “It’s just my period—”

“I don’t give a fuckwhatthe cause of your pain is. I want to know. Clear?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

He released me and shoved his car back into gear with his bloody fingers before heading on up to the house. Once we were in the garage, Helena came outside and silently got my bags. Rhett got out, and I continued to sit, waiting for him to come around to open my door.

I turned to get out when he pulled open the door, but he lifted me into his arms, carrying me into the house without a word. I wrapped my arms around his neck, grimacing when pain lanced through my lower stomach.

This month was going to be rough.

“Rosco,” he called, grabbing the attention of one of the security guards, “go out and get a bag of chocolate and salty potato chips. Also, grab some hot chocolate.” He looked down at me, pausing at the foot of the stairs. “Anything I miss?”

My cheeks warmed. He was taking care of me. I wasn’t used to it, but I sure as hell didn’t hate it.

“Strawberry soda and brownies?” I quietly asked.

“Add strawberry soda and brownies to the list,” he told Rosco. “I expect you back in thirty minutes.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Rosco slipped out the front door, and another guard quickly took his place. Rhett continued up the stairs and bypassed my room, going to his. Once we were in his bathroom, he gently set me on my feet before helping me out of my clothes, throwing my dress and panties in the trash and my sweater in his hamper.

“Let’s get a shower, baby girl.”

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