I know why she’s asking. She doesn’t actually want me to stop. She wants to me help her lie to herself. To keep up this charade that she really does hate me. That she really doesn’t want me.
But that would rely on me being willing to let her live those lies.
And I’m not f*****g willing.
“You want me to stop?” I ask.
She trembles, swallows, and tries to nod. It’s hardly convincing.
I wind my fingers through the roots of hair at the back of her head. Leaning close enough that I can count each splash of gold in her eyes, I touch my forehead to hers and whisper the last words needed to destroy her resistance.
So I close the remaining distance and begin to retake what’s mine.
I suck her bottom lip between my teeth. It draws a sharp moan from her. That’s the sound I was missing, so sweet
