A sound of frustration rose from me. I scowled at him. “I want you tofuckme.”
Something snapped inside of him. I caught my breath, seeing a glimpse at the monster I knew resided inside of him. He rose over me, yanked me down at a different angle, and braced himself against the headboard. He reared back only to slam into me.
Yes.Yes.This was what I wanted.
This was fucking. I didn’t want anything smooth that might’ve resembled lovemaking. I wanted primal and carnal and animalistic, and this was what he was giving me. He pounded into me, no longer holding back for me. This. I shivered, my hands skimming his neck, to his shoulders, to his back.
This was what I wanted from him, and now that I had it, why had I waited this long?
He opened a door in me, one that went into something vast and deep and dark, and my body quaked from how addictive all of this was. It rose and climbed, and I opened my mouth, a silent scream caught in my throat. I hurdled over the edge, my walls clamping down on him. My vision went black, and I dug my nails into his skin.
I broke through, feeling something warm and hot trickle out.
It sent him over the edge, and he grew still, his release pulsating inside of me.
As the tremors began to wane, I lay there, trying to catch my breath because holy shit, what had that been? I met his gaze as he pulled out. He tugged off the condom, tying it up, leaving the bed and room.
He came back a moment later, a warm towel in his hand, and he used it to clean me. He left again. When he returned, he pulled on his boxer briefs and slipped back into bed with me. “You should go to the bathroom.” He patted my hip.
I didn’t want to move, but I knew he was right.
I slipped out of the bed, reached for his sweatshirt and put it on. It fell to my thighs. I hurried into the bathroom and tried avoiding the mirror because I already knew I would look a mess. I went through the motions of getting ready for bed before returning to bed. I snuggled in still wearing his sweatshirt. It smelled like him.
He moved to my side, curling around me, and one of his hands went to my stomach. He began to rub in slow circles. “You okay?”
A half laugh, half gurgle came out of me. “Is sex like that normal?”
His eyes flickered, some of the vast emptiness looked like it sparked a little. “That—” He expelled a ragged breath. “No, Blake. That wasn’t normal sex. You’re going to be sore tomorrow.”
I grabbed his hand and brought it up to lightly bite his fingers.
He chuckled, letting me nibble on his hand. I didn’t know why I was doing this. He’d woken something in me, and whatever it was, there was anger in me, mixing with a thirst that felt like it was never going to be quenched. It made me feel on edge, which was mixing with a deep feeling of contentment and being sated. I was all mixed up inside, and somehow, clamping down on his hand with my teeth helped take some of that edge off.
I moved my head so I was looking up and not at him anymore. I confessed, breathless, “I want to do that again.”
He used his other hand to smooth some of my hair down the side of my face. “We will. We’ll do it as many times as you want.”
“Even if I’m mad at you? Because I’m mad at you a lot.”
He sighed. “Even if you’re mad at me.”
“Even if I hate you at that moment and want to murder you?”
“Even then.”
There was one more thing, and my throat swelled at the idea of bringing it up because we had never talked about other people before. “I don’t want you touching anyone else.” I knew he had used others in the past for his sexual needs.
His hand stilled on my hair before he continued running his fingers through my strands. “I will not let anyone else touch me. Just you.”
I relaxed and closed my eyes, knowing full well that we both just skirted around the truth. That I had just claimed him as much as he had always claimed me. A shiver worked its way down my spine, but I ignored it. Right now, I didn’t care what the consequences for this night were going to be.
I went to sleep.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Creighton
Blake was sleeping. The house was dark, but I moved through it easily. It was second nature by now. She fell asleep in my sweatshirt, so I pulled on my pants and my Henley for this conversation. They had another roommate, one they barely knew anything about, except I knew enough about. She was awake, like she always was at this time of the night. It was her lounging time, so I found her in the kitchen.
