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“I didn’t fuck anyone in Chicago,” he gruffly interrupts me. “I followed her. I grabbed her with every intention of fucking her. Wanting nothing more than to hear her screaming and gasping for air as I took what I needed from her.”
“Sam…” I almost sob his name as my eyes fall to the floor. So overwhelmed by his confessions, I don’t know how to react.
“I couldn’t fucking do it.” He slips a finger under my chin and tips my face back up toward his. “I couldn’t even fucking get hard for her. Even when I’m weak, my cock knows you’re fucking it for me.”
“Because you couldn’t get it up,” I scoff. “I’m supposed to feel better?”
“The party last night. The one you were supposed to come to with me. I spent two million on a whore there last night.” He firmly grips my chin when I try to look away again, “I didn’t lay fucking finger on her. My cock never fucking left my pants. I had no interest in fucking her. The entire fucking time I fantasized about coming home to you. About coming home and fucking you.”
His grip tightens on my chin, the force of his grip hovering on the edge of being painful. He lowers his face until there is just a breath of space between us.
“You, Cora.” He leans against me and exhales, “Just fucking you.”
His lips press firmly against mine, and the undeniable electricity between the two of us shoots through my body. Flooding every nerve, it momentarily washes away every feeling of betrayal and disgust.
“You’re all I fucking want.” He speaks against my lips, and his voice is suddenly laced with anguish. “You make me fucking better, love. I can’t fucking let you go.”
“Sam.” His name vibrates from my lips to his.
“I’ll give you a little space,” he releases my chin and takes a step back from me, “but you’re not fucking leaving.”
Samuel walks from the room, and my body slides down the wall until I’m sitting on the floor with my knees pulled to my chest. Dropping my face between my knees, I sob uncontrollably. My tears dampening the sheet as they control to fall from my face.
How is it possible to care this much for a fucking monster?
To fucking…love him?
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
SAMUEL
Cora’s sobs follow me as I make my way down the hall to my bedroom. The one I used to share with her.
The place she belongs.
Where she will be when all this is over.
As messy as this fucking is, I meant every damn word. I want to be better for her. I want to deserve her. She will be the last for me.
She will be staying.
As much as I want to trust that she won’t run, I grab my tablet from the nightstand and pull up the alarm system. Swiping over the options, I turn on all the sensors. She won’t be able to crack a window without every house within a mile radius knowing that she has triggered the alarm.
Stepping into the bathroom, I turn on the shower and step in before the water warms. The icy water is shockingly cold. So cold it burns my goosepimpled skin. I hiss through the discomfort as it slowly warms to a scaling hot temperature.
I love the smell of Cora on my skin, but I need to think. With my palms pressed to the shower wall, the hot beads rain over my head and down my body. Water blows from my face with every soothing breath that exhales from my lungs. It’s relaxing and exactly what I need to figure out how to fix things between us.
I know what I need to do.
Turning off the water, I grab the towel from the hook and wrap it around my waist without bothering to dry the rest of me. Walking across my room, water continues to drip down my body, leaving wet footprints in my wake.
Heading into my closet, I quickly dry off and pull on a pair of dress pants and a pressed white shirt. After putting on my shoes, I work on my cufflinks as I begin walking toward Cora’s room.
The doorbell rings, drawing my attention away from my original destination. It rings again, and from the corner of my eye, I notice Cora, eyes red and still cocooned in a sheet, stepping from her room. We make our way down the stairs as it continues to chime over and over again. It is either stuck, or someone on the other side in quite intent on getting our attention.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” I shout. “I’m coming.”
Opening the door, I’m caught off-guard by our unexpected guest.
