Page 83 of Brutal Truths

Beads of sweat trickle down her slick skin, but that doesn’t stop me. It only encourages me.

I slap her arse until it’s bright red and warm to the touch. Pounding into her tight cunt as it spasms around my hungry cock. She’ll feel me inside her for hours, cursing her witty mouth for teasing me.

When I’m done, she’s so full of my cum it’s dripping down her thighs. I’ve drained every drop I have into her. I’m spent, but in the best way possible.

Bringing her with me, I fall back onto the bed, settling her against my chest. Her eyes are so heavy she can barely keep them open.

“Don’t move.”

“Like I could.” Her voice is soft, hooded eyes watching me as I get up and disappear into the bathroom to grab a washcloth.

When I return, I kneel next to her and take my time cleaning her up. “Okay?”

She’s sore. There’s no missing it in the way she moves, or the quiet sounds she tries to hold back. So, I slow it down, keeping my touch gentle, as I drag the cool cloth through her swollen pussy.

“I’m fine. Just give me a few minutes to recover.”

“I need to clean up and then deal with Trent.” I lean down and press a kiss to her forehead. “You rest.”

She nods but then stops me. “Wait. Who did you really meet up with?”

I should stall. Deflect.

I don’t. I refuse to tell her another lie.

“Rurik.”

Chapter 24

Isabel

I didn’t know it was possible to go from the best sex of my whole damn life to wanting to kill him in a matter of seconds.

One minute, the endorphins that had me floating high, drain out of me just as quickly, replaced by something sharp and furious.

“Don’t you fucking walk away from me!”

He shuts the bathroom door like a coward. A few seconds later, the shower kicks on.

I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling, forcing myself to breathe before I storm in there after him. I can’t believe he met with Rurik and didn’t tell me.

No, worse. He flat-out lied.

My anger builds the longer I stay here. He promised never to lie to me. Promised I could trust him.

That didn’t last long.

Pushing myself upright, I wince at how sore my body is from his delicious punishment.

Not delicious. What had felt so good, doesn’t anymore.

I feel used.

Up on my feet I send the bathroom door crashing open, rebounding off the wall as steam curls around me. A few quick steps close the distance before I yank open the frosted door.

“I fucking hate you. I can’t believe you lied…” The rest of my rant dies in my throat. “What the hell?”

His back is facing me. A bruise, dark and swollen, runs down is spine, pulling the anger right out of me.