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“I told you?—”
My words end in a yelp when he picks me up and carries me in his arms. “To stay away. I heard. As it seems, I refuse to let you walk out in front of the entire world looking freshly fucked and allow small-dicked simpletons to picture how you look in the throes of passion. So unless you’re in the mood to watch me go on a murder spree, stay fucking still.
I look away as my chin trembles and a bitter tear slides down my cheek.
The rideback to the house passes in a blur. I’m so tired, I want to fall asleep and possibly not wake up.
Not face the reality of whatever happened tonight.
My thoughts are a jumbled mess of violent emotions and hungry desire. A sick need for more and a wish to never do this again.
So I do just that. I lean my head against the window and close my eyes. My hyperawareness of Eli’s presence doesn’t stop me from going under.
In my sleepy haze, I feel large hands pulling me away from the window. Something soft wipes the insides of my sticky thighs and gently strokes my sore pussy.
I let out a whimper. Eli curses under his breath.
Or I think he does.
When I come back to the world of the living, I feel him carrying me in his arms. I’m still wearing his jacket and morbidly invaded by his scent.
I can’t escape it or him.
It’s like I’m stuck in a loop.
Instead of opening my eyes, I keep them shut. The last thing I want is a confrontation with him. I feel so raw. So fragile. So emotional.
If I speak, he’ll dish out his favorite description of me—dramatic—and shelve me as mentally unstable.
And that’s not what I want him to think of me.
Even if I actually am. Even if he’s well aware of my situation. The panic attack he witnessed a few weeks ago should be the only thing he knows of my true self.
So I remain relaxed, eyes closed, hands tucked in my lap as he walks to what I assume is the entrance hall.
“Is everything okay?” Sam’s voice filters through.
He comes to a halt and I feel his eyes studying my face so intently, I resist the urge to squirm. “Not quite.”
“Is she…?” Sam trails off, then clears her throat. “Want me to help put her to bed?”
“I’ll do it.” He starts walking again and I contemplate opening my eyes and asking for Sam.
As much as I liked comparing their emotionless behavior, she’s by far much better company than he is. At least she listens to me talk nonstop, doesn’t judge me, and even helps out with my different endeavors and half-baked hobbies.
But the chance to wake up and call for her slips between my fingers like sand as Eli takes the stairs with impressive speed.
He places me on the top of my bed and disappears.
Oh. That wasn’t so bad. Though one would think he’d at least cover me.
What a prick.
I start to open my eyes, but I hear noise coming from the bathroom. I go back to playing asleep, managing to relax as his footsteps echo in the room. Soon after, he sits me up and the mattress dips under his weight as he removes the jacket. Goosebumps erupt on my skin and an excruciating heat pulsesthrough me. However, I remain still as he pulls down the zipper excruciatingly slowly and trails his fingers over my back in a sensual caress. Then he slides the dress away attentively, as if he’s preventing the fabric from hurting my skin.
As I sit stark naked in front of him, I feel his gaze taking in my every slope and curve as he grabs my hip and wraps a hand around my throat.
Tension burns in the air hotter than a furnace and I can’t banish the images of him fucking me against the door from my head.
