Page 67 of I’m The Worst

“I can’t… I can’t be touched there.” She swallows hard. “On my neck. I can’t. But…I want this. I want you. Just…not there. I’m sorry.”

I’m excruciatingly aware of how much of her is touching me now. Her tits pressing against my chest, her stomach against my still half-hard cock, her nails digging into me. But she doesn’t pull away. And I don’t move.

My throat still burns, raw from screaming the safeword. The panic has drained away, leaving behind this heavy, suffocating quiet that makes me uncomfortable.

I stare at his chest, my fingertips resting over the rough, burnt edges of his Sovereign brand. His heartbeat is steady under my palm.

His arm stays locked around my waist, holding me against him. My body aches everywhere. Between my thighs. Deep in my ass where his fingers had been stretching me. But the worst ache is in my chest.

I didn’t mean to freak out like that.

I should’ve said something sooner. I just…didn’t know how. I didn’t want him to stop. I wanted him to keep going. To fuck me harder. To push me until nothing else existed.

Now I feel like I ruined everything.

I broke the only moment when he actually wanted me.

“I didn’t mean to⁠—”

His hand tightens on my waist, cutting me off. “Stop talking.”

My eyes sting. I bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood, fighting back more tears. After a few minutes, he starts to pull away.

I twist in his arms before he can get far. “Wait⁠—”

Looking up at him, I search his shadowed face. His jaw is locked tight, green eyes distant.

“I didn’t mean to mess this up. We can keep going. I can take it. We can⁠—”

He’s up and off the bed in one fluid motion, putting space between us like I’m something poisonous. Heart lurching, I sit up quickly, dragging the sheet around my naked body.

“Go to sleep.”

“Wolff, please⁠—”

He shoots me a look so cold my stomach drops.

His cock is half-hard, still slick and shiny from being inside me as he yanks on his sweatpants. The sight makes shame crash over me in a freezing wave.

I fucked up.

Of course he doesn’t want me now. I’m a mess, nothing but a needy, used-up girl who can’t even take a cock without having a full meltdown.

He moves around the room in silence—pulling on a shirt, shoving his boots on like he can’t get away from me fast enough. Like the last thirty minutes never happened.

I curl tighter into myself on the bed, watching him. When he’s done, he stands by the door, back turned to me. I fall back against the pillows and stare at the ceiling. The ache between my legs feels cruel now—a mocking reminder of what I just destroyed.

Tears slip down my temples and disappear into my hair.

I’m so fucking stupid.

“Get dressed.”

Wolff’s deep voice cuts through the haze.

I crack my eyes open. He’s already fully geared up—black tactical jacket, boots, weapons clipped everywhere. Ready for war.

Wincing, I sit up slowly. My body is sore in places I don’t want to think about.