Page 666 of Coal Hearts

My breasts became painfully heavy.

A gush of wetness—

Yep, now he’d done it.

No way could I go down there without him fucking me.

A shadowy part of my mind judged me. The old me pitied the creature I’d become.

I feared I’d become an addict to fear and pain and suffered regular nightmares of going home, moving back into my family’s house, hugging my brother and kissing my parents, all while crave, crave, craving the absolute fucking madness that only Henri could cure.

My fingers sneaked across the carpet and latched around his ankle.

He sucked in a breath.

I looked up.

My body put on a performance for the cameras, but my eyes...they spoke the truth.

I need you. Badly.

He shuddered. Now?

I nodded.

Bending over me, he grabbed my elbows and hoisted me to my bare feet. “You know what? A cum necklace would be a waste. How about I fill you up, so you drip for me all night long?” Cupping me roughly between the legs, he drove the wispy fabric directly into my soaking core. “Would you like that? My cum oozing down your thighs? Knowing you’ve been fucked by me. That you belong to me?”

I convulsed.

My knees stopped working.

God, yes please.

“Fuck you,” I snapped.

“As you wish.” He smirked.

I love you, his eyes whispered.

Tossing me onto the bed, he flipped me onto my stomach and flipped the hem of my dress over my back. Kicking my feet apart, he unbuckled, unzipped, and fisted himself.

My heart pounded in my ears, my fingertips, my clit.

Every cell in my body wanted to submit and arch for him.

I needed him to fill me.

I wasn’t whole without him inside me.

But I had a show to put on.

A show we’d perfected, and Victor had bought hook, line, and sinker.

Pushing up off the bed, I made to feint to the side.

He snatched me and threw me back down. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Pressing a fist against my lower back, he kept me pinned.