Then I’m back over her, guiding myself to her slick entrance. I pause, searching her eyes, giving her a moment to push me away. She doesn’t. She pulls me down, nails digging into my skin, whispering, “Do it.”
I thrust into her in one slow, steady push, filling her, stretching her tight around me. We both groan, the sound raw, almost pained. She arches beneath me, her hands clawing at my shoulders, legs wrapping tight around my waist.
The heat of her clenches around me, dragging a curse from my lips. I pull back, thrust again, harder this time. Her cry fills the room, mixing with the slap of skin, the creak of the bed as I set a rhythm that drives us both higher.
She meets me thrust for thrust, fierce and unyielding, her nails tearing into my back, her mouth biting at my neck, my jaw, my lips. I take it all, give it all back, kissing her hard enough to bruise, fucking her deep and relentless.
Her body shudders, her moans growing louder, rawer. She clings to me like she’ll fall apart if she lets go. I press my forehead to hers, sweat dripping, breath ragged.
“Good girl,” I rasp.
“Yes,” she gasps, then moans as I slam deeper. “Faster,please...”
I kiss her again, swallowing the lie we both know it’s becoming.
Her climax rips through her, sudden and sharp, her walls clamping down hard around me. She screams into my mouth, body convulsing, pulling me with her. I drive into her a few more times before I lose control, spilling inside her with a groan that tears from somewhere deep.
We collapse together, tangled in sweat and sheets, both of us trembling, gasping, our bodies pressed so tight it’s hard to tell where I end and she begins.
The silence after is thick, heavy. My heart pounds against her chest, her breath fans hot against my neck. Neither of us speaks. Neither of us moves.
I lie there staring at the ceiling, her body still wrapped around mine, unsure what the hell to do with what just happened. The anger, the hatred, the lies, it should’ve kept us apart. Instead it drove us into this bed, into each other.
The room smells of sweat and sex, thick in the air, clinging to my skin. My pulse still pounds from the force of what we did, but I force myself to move. She lies beneath me, hair tangled across the pillow, chest rising and falling fast. Her eyesflicker closed, then open again, as if she’s afraid to let her guard down for even a second.
I push up, bracing one arm on the mattress, then ease myself from her body. The loss of her heat makes me groan low in my throat. She winces faintly, shifting, her thighs damp. My jaw tightens at the sight of it, the evidence of me spilling from her. I tell myself to look away, but I don’t.
I grab the edge of the sheet and wipe myself first, hand rougher than it should be. Then I leave the bed long enough to pull a clean towel from the dresser. When I return, she hasn’t moved. She watches me with heavy-lidded eyes, suspicion and exhaustion battling in her face.
I sit on the edge of the mattress, press the towel gently between her legs. She inhales sharply, a sound caught between surprise and discomfort.
“Hold still,” I murmur, voice low. My hand works slowly, carefully, wiping her clean. She could shove me away, curse at me, claw at my skin the way she did minutes ago. She doesn’t. She lies quiet, staring at the ceiling, letting me take care of her.
When I’m done, I set the towel aside and drag the sheet over her, tucking it loosely around her body. My fingers linger too long against her hip, heat rising again in my chest. I make myself pull away.
She breaks the silence first, voice rough, still edged with disbelief. “Will you stay?”
The question hits harder than it should. For a second, I want to. To sink back into the bed, into her, to pretend the world outside this room doesn’t exist. To pretend I can keep her like this, warm against me, her sharp tongue muted by exhaustion and the haze of release.
“No.” The word leaves me flat, final.
Her eyes snap to mine, searching for something I don’t let her see. Hurt flashes across her face before she shutters it, before she pulls her chin up like a blade. “Of course not.”
I don’t answer. I stand, reaching for the pants discarded on the floor. The fabric clings, damp with sweat, but I force them on, then grab my shirt. My body aches, marked by her nails, her bites, the sting of skin against skin. Each mark is a brand, one I’ll carry long after I walk out of this room.
As I dress, I feel her eyes on me. Sharp, burning, following every movement. She doesn’t speak, but I can feel the weight of her stare pressing between my shoulder blades.
I pull the shirt over my head, then pause at the door. For a heartbeat, I almost turn back. Almost walk to her, almost take her hand, almost give in to the voice whispering that one night could change everything.
Instead I open the door.
Her gaze sears into me as I step into the hallway, the click of the latch loud in the silence.
I leave her there tangled in sheets, the ghost of her kiss still burning on my mouth, knowing neither of us will sleep tonight.
Chapter Seventeen - Vivienne
The first thing I see when I open my eyes is the ceiling. Shadows drag across the plaster, morning light trying to break through heavy curtains. For a moment I lie still, chest tight, stomach knotted, listening to the silence. He isn’t here. The space beside me is cold, the sheets crumpled.
