“God, you’re messing with my mind.”
“And you’re messing with mine.” I shook my head as the fog and unbalance from being struck in the skull returned. I felt strange. Loose. Burning up. “You’ve drawn my blood and bruised my bones, and you dare try to say no to me?”
“Fair’s fair.” She gasped as I swept my finger back to her entrance, dipping inside to my first knuckle. “Holy—”
“Fair’s fair?” I laughed coldly. “Nothing’s fair about this. You weren’t supposed to trespass on my fucking heart.”
Christ, what the hell?
The fog was crushing me, stealing control of my thoughts and mouth.
She shivered. “Is-is that true? Am I—”
“You’re mine. That’s all you need to know.”
“I belong to no one but me.”
“Yet here you are, bound, spread, dripping for my cock.”
“Don’t flatter—” she cried out as I pulsed my finger, teasing her “—yourself. My wetness doesn’t mean I want you.”
“Are you so sure about that?” I bent and licked my way around her hipbone, keeping my finger shallow in her pussy, making her crave, causing her inner muscles to flutter with greed.
“If you weren’t trapped, would you really kick me away? Knowing how good it feels when I fuck you? Knowing that I’ll pleasure you, worship you, make you come harder than you’ve ever come before?”
“This isn’t happening,” she moaned.
“I can assure you that it is.” I drove my finger in to the second knuckle, pulsing in her heat. “You’re soaking.”
“Oh, God.” Her entire body snapped up, then folded forward.
Her pussy clenched around my finger, the shockwave traveling through my hand, up my forearm, into my bloodstream, and directly to my cock.
I thickened to unbearable levels. Wetness oozed out the tip, starving for her.
Withdrawing my finger, I rubbed her clit again. “You want me.”
“You’re an asshole,” she moaned again, her words almost slurring.
“Asshole, huh?” Dipping my finger back into her pussy, this time, I didn’t stop at the first knuckle. I drove it inside her. Pushing, diving, feeding her the entire length.
Her reaction almost made me come.
Her hips shot backward, her knees slid wider, her back lowered until her ass jutted into the air. “Fuck you.” The curse came out more like a beseech.
“Christ, you’re beautiful.” My mouth watered, and my belly hungered. Concussion or not, this woman was my medicine and disease all in one.
“Tell me to mount you,” I grunted. “Tell me how much you want me to fill you.”
Her head snapped left and right, clinging to rationality all while the electricity in the vehicle incinerated it. “Never.”
“Say it.” I fucked her with my finger.
She couldn’t control her reaction. Her desire. “...No.”
She wanted me, didn’t she? She felt this too. Her trembles couldn’t be faked. Her wetness couldn’t be hidden.
Stop lying to me!
I need to believe in this. Believe in something.
“Tell me to fuck you.”
“I’m telling you no!”
My head swam. How could she deny us after the mutual destruction outside? She’d kissed me back. She’d come on me. She’d let me into places inside her that no one else ever had before.
I needed back in there.
I needed to feel that peace.
To hear it wasn’t a lie even while I knew it was too good to be true.
Her continued denials clawed deep tracks through my heart. A heart that I’d done my best to patch up with glue for a decade. Scorn and hate combined made the perfect bandage against loss and loneliness.
The only problem was, she seemed to be a solvent that gave me nowhere to fucking hide.
Tearing out my finger, I joined two together and speared them into her. “Tell me you need me as much as I need you.”
“Holy shit—” She rocked on my penetration, her pussy greedy for more.
“Tell me!”
“I can’t!”
“Why?”
“Because you’re not just taking my body, you’re taking my damn soul!”
I froze.
I broke.
I couldn’t breathe. “It’s just sex.”
“It’s not, and you know it!”
It’s not.
I know it.
I fucking know it.
How had this happened in one night?
This had gone too far. This was pushing me toward an edge I couldn’t survive.
The haze came again, thick and cloying, an eraser that I’d perfected over eleven years of selective amnesia.
Lies.
All lies.
Sex was just sex. Sex was power. Sex was pain.
Sex was a weapon.
The only weapon I know.
“It’s just chemistry. Nothing more.” I touched her again, tracing her slickness. “I’m not going to stop.”
She groaned into the vehicle’s carpet. “You’re destroying both of us.”
“Am I?” I used my thumb on her clit, rubbing in time to the thrusting of my fingers. “Is it really destruction when we both know you want me to shove my cock inside you and make you come all over me?”
Her whimper almost made me buckle. Almost made my walls shatter and throw me at the mercy of my mind. Almost made that softness, that happiness, that she’d conjured shine light on all my nightmarish pieces.
“Tell me your name,” she whimpered. “Tell me, and maybe you can have me.”
“My name doesn’t matter.”
“It matters.” She moaned again as I continued to touch her, tease her.
My head pounded, the haziness returning like clouds in my valley. I felt wrong. I felt very wrong.
And she was the cure to all my wrongness.
I couldn’t wait.
I needed this.
Need her to fix me.
“We have a new agreement, remember?” Withdrawing my fingers, I clamped both hands on her inner thighs, spread her legs, then rose behind her. “I won’t try to kill you if you do what I command.”
She trembled. “Don’t you even dare—” she hissed, looking over her shoulder, her hair chaos and eyes brutal. “If you do this. If you take me while I can’t fight you back, I’ll-I’ll—”
“Scream?” I mounted her.
I thrust deep, deep inside her. I let go of all the cages and prisons I’d erected and for a single breath, allowed myself to be free.
Free to feel her, feel myself, feel us, feel the blissful, rightful, fateful link that was conjured from nowhere.
It was heaven.
It was hell.
Her scream was a mixture of hate and heat. A female in need, torn apart by lust, naked in front of her own basic desires.
She was wrong that she couldn’t fight me. That with her wrists tied and hips high, she had no way to wage war. She managed to fight me better than anyone as her ass soared back, forcing every last inch of me inside her.
She met my insanity with her own.
Her legs widened until her knees slipped to the sides, dragging me down with her. Flat on her belly, it gave her nowhere to go, no other way free but to buck against me, to scream and curse, to lose herself in the dementia we’d caused.
I fucked her.
She fucked me.
We turned as wild as we had in the storm.
Grasping her nape, I reared up and rutted into her.
The tension in my balls, the bruises she’d caused, and the wounds she’d imprinted all surged with speed and recklessness.
I wanted to come.
As fast as possible.
I needed out of this woman, away from this lust. I needed to remember how to breathe.
“I truly hate you,” she groaned as she matched my manic pace.
“I feel”—thrust, thrust, fucking thrust—“the same way.”
“Liar!” she hissed, rocking her hips into the coarse vehicle carpet, her moans tattered as I drove harder into her.
Liar?
Who was the liar?
Life itself?
Fate?
Hope?
Definitely hope.
I curled my fingers around the back of her neck and fucked with single-mindedness. I didn’t think about her well-being—no one had ever thought of mine. I wrung out my pleasure from her body, not caring if she came with me or not.