Asher’s going to have to accept that, because I’m not taking that choice away from him.
“It’s not my place.” I hold his gaze. “But I promise I’ll take care of him.”
Even though he doesn’t like being made to leave, my assurance seems to pacify Asher enough that he obliges. “Okay.”
He’s almost to the door when he turns back around. “Tell him I’m sorry.”
“For what?” Landon questions.
Asher looks at his shoes. “Preston isn’t the liar. I am. What he said before was true. I paid off the police to keep everything under wraps.”
Preston’s grudge against Asher becomes crystal clear to me now.
Finding out that your big brother—the person you’ve always looked up to—essentially protected a monster who violated you must feel like the worst kind of betrayal.
Not that Asher understands this.
Disappointment colors both his fiancés’ faces before Breslin places her arm around his waist. “Come on. Let’s go home so the three of us can talk.”
Once the door closes behind them, I wander up the staircase and into the bedroom.
I find Preston hunched over the side of the bed with his back facing me.
My heart thuds against my ribs, every beat hurting for him as I climb onto the bed.
The muscles in his back tense and coil. “I don’t want to talk about it, Kit.” His voice snaps like a whip. “I can’t.”
I won’t force him. I’ll do—or not do—whatever it takes to show him that he’s not alone.
That I’m his safe space to land…just like he is for me.
I move across the bed and sit next to him. “Okay.” I reach for his hand, gripping it tight. “Tell me what you need.”
I know I can’t make this better, but I’ll do anything to get him out of the hell he’s trapped in.
“You.” He tilts his head to look at me. “I need you.”
He closes the distance between us, wrapping his hand around the back of my head as he kisses me.
Every swipe of his tongue is a ruthless lash…like he’s not only fighting his demons, he’s fighting himself.
Like he has something to prove.
A sharp push has me falling onto the mattress. He towers over me, his fingers going to the button on my jeans.
Part of me wants to stop him because it’s evident he isn’t in the right mental place…but I just vowed to do what he needs.
He shoves one hand in my underwear as his other frantically tugs my jeans down my legs.
I try to focus on his touch, but I can’t. My mind is too centered on what he’s going through internally to get in the mood.
Something Preston notices because he removes his hand. For a moment I think he’s going to stop, but then he unzips his jeans and rolls on a condom.
Turning to me again, he pulls my underwear off and presses his hands down on my inner thighs, spreading me.
With a cruel grunt, he spits on my pussy…
And then he rams himself inside me.
I’m not fully prepared for the invasion, so the first thrust hurts.
And the second is so brutal it steals my breath.
“Preston.”
His mouth comes down on mine, taking kiss after kiss and thrust after thrust.
Normally I love it when he loses control…but everything about this is all wrong.
His violent thrusts aren’t passionate because he wants me.
It’s because he wants to forget.
A hiss leaves me with his next one, but not because it feels good. It doesn’t. Every time he drives himself inside me it feels like a punishment…
Because he’s freezing me out.
I know he needs me right now…but he also seems to have forgotten that I need him, too.
Our bodies might be joined, but I’ve never felt more disconnected from him.
My throat prickles with tears when I look up.
The detached, vacant look in his eyes makes it clear he’s somewhere else.
I thought doing this would alleviate some of his pain, but it only made it worse for both of us…because Preston is gone.
And if he’s not here while he’s inside me, I don’t know where I can find him.
“Hey.” I grab his face, forcing him to look at me—to be in this with me—but it’s like I don’t even exist.
I’m nothing more than an outlet for his trauma.
“It hurts,” I choke out. “You’re hurting me.”
And it has nothing to do with his vicious movements.
It’s because I no longer feel whole.
That seems to snap him out of his haze because he stares down at me and I see the shame flashing in his eyes.
He starts to get off me, but I wrap my legs around him, keeping him inside me. “Don’t go.”
I don’t want Preston to feel like he’s a monster…because he’s not.
The most terrible thing that could ever happen to someone happened to him.
And I want to be there to take on the pain, so he doesn’t have to shoulder it alone.
“Look at me.”
He turns his head away in disgust. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” I palm his cheek. “Because I’m your Kit.” Kissing his jaw, I whisper, “And you’re safe with me.”
A shuddering breath leaves him. “I hurt you.”
“No, you didn’t…because that wasn’t you.”
That was the victim his father created. The one who hurts others because he’s hurting.
But the monster doesn’t have to win. We can beat him…together.
I press my lips to his throat where his pulse beats wildly. “But you’re back, now, and this man is the one I want.”
The one I live and breathe for…because I wasn’t doing either of those before him.
I buck my hips, feeling him thicken with the movement. “Stay with me, okay?”
Entangling our fingers, he holds them above my head.
“More,” I tell him when he thrusts ever so gently, like he’s afraid he’s going to hurt me again. “Give me more.”
Give me everything. Just stay with me while you do it.
Picking up his pace, he groans into my mouth. “Kit.”
The sound of my name on his lips—along with the sensation of him pumping in and out—sends shivers through me.
He moans low and gruff as I grow wet around him. “Kit.”
“I’m here,” I whisper.
And so is he.
His rhythm slows and he grabs my hips before rising up on his knees.
“What are you doing?”
A whimper escapes me when he drags a calloused hand down my torso and his fingers find my clit. “Making you come.”
Pleasure spikes through me, hot and sharp as he rubs wet circles and his pelvis meets mine with a hard slap.
I close my eyes, writhing against the mattress as he fucks me. “Don’t stop.”
The long fingers on my hip dig into my skin hard enough to leave marks with every deep thrust.
“I’m gonna come.” I clench around him, my body tightening and tingling as he works me diligently.
My orgasm is a crescendo, bringing me to the highest of highs. I reach for him as it fades, needing skin-to-skin contact.
Lowering himself, he settles between my thighs. Our breaths mingle as he gently sinks into me, deliberately holding himself back as not to lose control again.