Page 108 of A Million To Fall

“Because I don’t like it, Skye.”

“But I take you into my mouth,” I say carefully.

He leans back, irritation darkening his expression. “So what? Are you saying you don’t like doing that?”

“Well, I—”

“Why are you trying to ruin the damn mood?”

“I’m not,” I say softly. “I just thought maybe—”

“Oh fuck, fine,” he mutters suddenly, dropping between my legs.

His tongue touches me a second later.

It’s awful.

Sloppy. Uninterested. Clearly trying to prove a point. I close my eyes, willing my body to respond. But I already know it won’t.

Finally, I exhale. “Okay. Never mind.”

He lifts his head, annoyed. I scoot back, putting space between us.

“Told you,” he huffs. “I knew you wouldn’t get off like this.”

“You didn’t even try,” I say quietly.

“The fuck you talking about? Did I not just lick your pussy?”

The way he says it makes me feel dirty.

“Yeah,” I say, my voice tight. “But you didn’t try to make it feel good for me.”

“Because I don’t like it, Skye,” he snaps. He takes a deep breath. “Come on. Let me fuck you properly and we can forget—”

Forget. As if this is just a tiny hiccup on the way to his finish line. God, I’m so tired of pretending this is enough.

“No,” I say, soft but steady. I climb off the bed and start gathering my clothes.

Archer watches me, stunned. “Are you really that upset that I didn’t want to go down on you?”

“No.” I step into my dress. “I just…” I trail off. I don’t even know how to finish that sentence.

“Fine,” he says, his tone self-sacrificing. “I’ll suck it up and do it if it means that much to you.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want you to suck it up, Archer. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

He stares at me like he can’t process what’s happening.

“Okay, then what the fuck is the problem? Wait… are you PMSing?”

I blink. “What? No.”

“Sure seems like it. You’re acting fucking crazy.”

Weeks ago, I would’ve believed him. I would’ve convinced myself I overreacted and apologized for wanting something he didn’t feel like giving. But looking at him now—at the annoyance on his face, at the inconvenience I’ve somehow become—it occurs to me that my happiness shouldn’t feel like a burden to the person who claims to love me.

“I want to go home,” I say quietly.