“Tell me to stop if you don’t want this,” he grunts, his fingers now biting into my hips. “Tell me you hate me!” he orders. “Say it!”
“I hate you.” I seethe as I open my legs wider, ass sticking out and leaving my pussy ready for his assault.
He sneers at me and pulls out a condom from his pocket, throwing it onto the vanity.
“You’ve got ten seconds to put that thing on me. Otherwise, I’m fucking you raw.”
It’s all the warning I get before he slaps one ass cheek. I jump to it and quickly rip the condom wrapper with my teeth. Not that I wouldn’t mind feeling his bare length inside me, but everyone knows Easton is a player, so who knows where he’s been.
Through the mirror’s reflection, I watch him arch a teasing eyebrow at me, but it’s quickly replaced with lust when I grab the base of his cock after I’ve sheathed him fully. I turn back around, my ass up in the air, silently ordering him to do his worst. He slaps my butt cheek again with more bite to it, coaxing a humph from my lips with the knowledge that I’ll feel it in the morning. He grabs onto my blond wig, twisting it around his wrist, forcing me to stare up at him through the mirror. I watch as he sneers in distaste at the feel of the synthetic in his hold, but it doesn’t dampen his resolve.
“Show me all your hate, and I’ll show you mine,” he whispers in my ear, bumping my swollen clit with the tip of his cock as it runs through my wet folds.
“Do it,” I command.
In one quick thrust, he enters me, stilling my voice in my throat. His temple leans against my shoulder, taking a blessed second just to take in the enormity of the moment. My heavy lids close as my nails scrape the vanity’s surface through my gloves. I feel as if Easton just split me open with just one thrust. The delicious sting makes my entire body sing in delight, craving the full extent of his punishment.
“I knew it,” he hushes out pained. “I fucking knew it.”
I’m too trapped in the fullness of him to even consider asking what he’s talking about.
“Look at me, Scar.”
I try to open my eyes to do as he says, my mouth agape at the feral vision of the godlike creature behind me. He gives my fake hair another tug, digging the pins into my scalp to make sure I keep my stare on him at all times. When he’s sure I won’t look away, he slowly begins to thrust his massive cock inside me, but the lazy, unhurried tempo doesn’t last for long. Before I’m able to catch my bearings, Easton is fucking me from behind at full force. My breathing becomes an erratic mess as I grip onto the vanity’s edge to keep my balance. Easton lets go of my hair to keep his hold on my hips and continues to pound furiously into me. My quivering knees beg to buckle at the ferocity, but Easton won’t allow it.
Throughout his assault, he never looks away from my face’s reflection in the mirror. The searing heat in his sterling silver eyes viciously spears into the dark parts of my soul, demanding more of me than I’m willing to let go. His sharp-bladed jawline slacks at the side with each torturous thrust, slightly pursing his lips as beads of sweat begin to coat his temple. My body vibrates as one hand forgoes grasping my hip, so his deft fingers can stroke my clit with expert movements. His shallow pants consume me as the charging electricity between us only intensifies.
This is more than hate.
This is years of frustration and anger, being taken out on our bodies with each maddening thrust. This brutal onslaught feels like a sacred penance—the price we both need to pay for depriving ourselves of what we secretly craved for so long.
My body becomes his plaything as he coaxes from me every lustful wail and cry. He buries himself to the root while his teeth sink into my shoulder, making me whimper out louder. My gloved hand finds itself entwined in his dark locks, pulling on them with little restraint, giving him the same bit of pain mixed with pleasure that he’s so talentedly inflicting on me.
Easton pulls me up and cages me against him as he continues to plunge through my slick core. My chest heaves in anticipation of his next move, and the muscles in his forearms seize when my walls begin to spasm around him.
“Look at me, Scar,” he repeats on a graveled rasp.
With unparalleled beauty, the molten silver of his penetrating stare bathes me in flames, savoring the carnage he’s inflicting on my body. It demolishes all the walls I’ve built, which kept this very thing from happening—the devil corrupting my soul.
“Tell me you hate me now? Say it as you cum with me inside you.”
Illicit shudders ripple from my heels up to my spine, all-consuming as a high-pitched wail threatens to break free.
“Lie to me, Scar. Let me taste it on my tongue,” he grunts, licking my neck as he toys with my clit in such a way that I’m becoming blinded by bright light all around me.
“Fuck, Scar. Say it, baby,” he begs in a gruff groan, so close to unraveling himself, it pushes me over the edge.
Unable to push back the tidal wave of ecstasy crashing within me at full force, I scream out my hate, knowing that nothing so exquisite could ever be tainted by such a lie. He pounds into me two more times before his own climax erupts, colliding head-first into the blissful abyss.
Together we ride out the waves of our orgasm, grasping at the ribbons of our sanity until the lust-filled fog begins to vanish from our sight. Silence descends upon my dressing room, amplifying the quiet intensity of our trapped gaze in the mirror. I’m completely naked before him, while Easton is still dressed in his favorite black gear.
I stagger when he releases his hold of me, but I manage to find my footing, already mourning the loss of the intimacy we just shared. Willing my heart rate to slow down, I watch him tie the condom at its end and throw it into the waste bin. Not once do I turn around to face the devil that just made my whole body sing for him. I watch through the mirror’s reflection as our masks are once again carefully placed, pretending to resume our emotionally-guarded demeanors.
But it’s all a futile ruse.
We both know what we just let out of the cage.
This is not hate.
It’s never been hate, no matter how hard we painted it out to be.
But we both know that giving it a name will be our undoing.
Denial and lies are the only shields we still have to keep the perilous truth at bay.
For how long we can keep up with the facade is anyone’s guess.
Chapter 13
Scarlett
“Scarlett? Did you hear a word I’ve said?” my uncle asks concerned, as he puts down his notebook on top of the pulpit.
“What?” I mumble absentmindedly.
“Are you alright? You look flushed.”
My hands instinctively cover my cheeks, hiding their crimson color from my uncle’s astute gaze.
“I’m fine. Just taking your wise words in, that’s all,” I rush to explain, trying hard not to fidget in the pew as I blatantly lie in my uncle’s face.
Ever since my little tryst with Easton last night, my mind has been all over the place. Listening to Uncle Jack practice his Sunday sermon is definitely taking a back seat to the memories still so fresh in my mind.