I’ve wanted him inside me again before now, I just couldn’t say yes.
Tonight… he didn’t ask.
My emotions are tumultuous as he fucks me face down on his bed. There’s no tenderness, no care for me, only greedy possession. I don’t get the sense he wants to make love to me right now, he just wants to make me take him, to punish me for coming here tonight with another man.
I don’t know how to feel about it.
My body seems to, though.
Tension starts to build from the friction of him slamming into me over and over again, but he doesn’t do anything to kindle the flames of my pleasure.
This claiming isn’t for me. He doesn’t want me to come, he just wants to remind me who I belong to, like he said on the card in the first flowers he sent me.
I don’t mind, not really.
I feel a twinge of regret when his fingers dig into my flesh and he comes inside me, though. He used my body and filled me with his cum, despite my protests. It doesn’t get much more brutal caveman than that.
Hunter collapses on top of me, his face resting against my shoulder as he recovers from his orgasm.
Once he has recovered enough strength to move, he shifts his weight.
Cum leaks out of me as he pulls out of my body.
I close my eyes, still face down on the mattress. I don’t want to look at him right now. “You came inside me.”
“Sure did,” he says without shame as he drops onto the bed beside me. “Maybe this time it’ll stick.”
My stomach drops. I open my eyes and turn my head to stare at him. “That’s a fucked up thing to say, Hunter.”
“Sherlock won’t want you then.”
“Jesus Christ. I don’t care about Sherlock,” I snap.
He reaches a hand toward my face, grazing my bottom lip with his thumb.
Just like that, my anger and hurt melts away. The guilt comes back.
I didn’t kiss Sherlock, I certainly didn’t give him permission to mark my lip like that, but I did agree to his crazy plan in the first place. I did what he told me to, I dressed the way he told me to dress. I don’t know why I did any of that, but I did get a little caught up.
I did feel some type of way when he looked at me in the car.
I’m not guilty of anything, but I don’t feel entirely innocent, either.
“I can’t even kiss you,” Hunter mutters. “I don’t want to taste him on your mouth.”
Shame cinches my gut. “I’m sorry he kissed me, especially in front of you. I didn’t want to hurt you. You may want to hurt me sometimes, but I never want to hurt you.”
Hunter shifts, positioning a pillow under his head, and looks over at me. “Why did you come here with him, then?”
“I told you,” I whisper, a touch hopelessly. “He tricked me.”
He appears unconvinced. “You’re not dumb enough to fall for his tricks.”
I laugh bitterly, but the sound is smothered against the mattress. “You would think that, wouldn’t you? He distracted me. He told me you were in pain, and that’s all I could see. It wasn’t rational. I broke a dozen different rules of common sense, I ignored my instincts. I can’t defend myself in that sense. I did something really fucking stupid. I’m human. I do dumb shit sometimes, especially when my feelings are being manipulated.”
“I can’t believe you let him manipulate you,” he mutters.
“I can’t, either,” I agree. After a moment, I say softly, “He used you. You’ve always been my weakness.”
Hunter doesn’t say anything for a long moment. Finally, his tone somber, he says, “Yeah. You’ve always been mine, too.”
Chapter Forty
Riley
When my eyes open, the room is dark.
My bed is more comfortable than I remember it being, so I roll on my side to snuggle up with a pillow, but when I go to grab my extra one, I only grab empty air.
I’m on the wrong side of the bed.
My mind clears and I realize I am not at home in my own bed.
I fell asleep in Hunter’s bed.
I sit up with a gasp, blinking away my drowsiness as I look around for a clock.
Oh my God, we fell asleep in bed together.
Again.
My mom’s going to slaughter him.
I look around the dark room in search of a clock so I can see just how much trouble I’m in, but those thoughts rapidly vacate my mind when I spot Hunter.
He’s awake, sitting on a chair beside his bed. His shoulders are hunched forward, his head hung. His handsome face is bathed in moonlight, so I can see his somber expression.
He looks over when he hears me gasp.
“Hey,” I say, a little more uncertainly than I mean to. “What are you doing over there?”
“Wasn’t sure you’d want me in the bed,” he says, his voice low, a little raw.
I push up on my elbow. “It’s your bed.”
He doesn’t say anything.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
Hunter laughs, a short, harsh burst. “Am I okay? Yeah, I’m okay. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I say the word, but it doesn’t sound like I’m finished with it. I don’t understand why he got out of bed, but I don’t like it. “What time is it?”
“A little after two.”
“Do you know where my phone is? I need to text my mom.”
He nods, getting up off the chair and walking over to retrieve my purse and all the things he dumped out of it onto the floor.
“Thank you,” I murmur as I take my phone.
I light up the screen and see it’s 2:14. I also see that I have three missed texts from my mom. The first one is from 45 minutes ago just asking if I’m coming home soon, then there are two more since I didn’t answer her.
“Shit,” I mutter. It’s so late, but… I don’t really feel like I can leave right now.
Hunter and I got quiet after he was finished with me. I assumed we both fell asleep. Now I’m not sure, maybe only I did. Whatever the case, we still need to talk. If I leave his house tonight, I’m not sure we will.
“Your mom?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I look up at him. “Will your mom care if I stay the night?”
His eyebrows rise in surprise. “No, she’s not even here. She’s out of town. I have the place to myself.” He pauses. “You want to stay the night?”
I nod. “If that’s okay.”
“Of course it’s okay. I’m not sure your mom will agree, but…”
I shrug. “I didn’t tell her where I was going. She might figure it out and come pounding on your door, but… she probably won’t this time. She knew I was going out with…”
Oops.
I stop, realizing how poorly I worded that.
“I didn’t mean—”
“I got it,” he says succinctly. “She wouldn’t think it was my house you were sleeping at.”
My heart sinks. I want to argue, but I don’t know how to. That’s pretty much what I’m saying, I just don’t like the way it sounds.
I type out a quick text to my mom apologizing and telling her I fell asleep. I tell her I’m just going to crash here if that’s okay, but I don’t leave her much room to say it’s not. I tell her I’m basically falling asleep while texting, and I’ll see her in the morning.