“Look at me.”
She makes a sound, her forehead is creased when her eyes meet mine.
“You don’t get to fucking leave. You don’t get to walk away. We established that.”
I draw out and thrust hard, slap her ass when I do. The sound of flesh hurting flesh bounces off the walls.
She grunts. I pull back, twist her body a little, slap her ass again. Twice. Harder. Before I drive into her. She’s turned her head away, is squeezing her eyes shut.
With my cock buried inside her, I grip her jaw, turn her to face me. “Open your fucking eyes.”
She does. A tear slides from the corner of one eye.
“What did I say to you that night at my father’s house? What did I tell you?”
“Stop.”
“No. That’s not it. What did I fucking tell you?”
Tears are coming from both eyes now.
I watch her cry. She’s so fucking pretty when she cries. I can’t stop looking at her. It’s sick, I know, but it’s like her fucking tears mesmerize me. I’m deep inside her and it’s warm and wet and I slide my hands up over her arms and close my hands over hers.She’s still gripping the headboard like I told her to. I pry them off, interlace my fingers with hers.
“Natalie. What did I tell you?”
“I’m yours.”
“That’s right. Mine.” It’s a savage sound. Wild and untamed. “Always. No matter what.”
Our eyes are locked and I thrust twice more and she hasn’t come yet and I don’t give a fuck because that’s not what this is about. I bury myself inside her and throb and empty and fill her up and she’s so fucking warm, all I can do is lose myself there for just a minute. In her eyes. In her cunt. In her.
25
NATALIE
Cum is sliding out of me and Sergio is looming over me. His gaze shifts to between my legs and he’s got me trapped so I can’t move, can’t cover myself. He sits up. Pushes my legs wide. Watches his stuff spill out of me. Watches until it’s finished before returning his gaze to mine.
“The test.”
He pauses, and I wait wordlessly for him to continue.
“Is that why you left?”
I cover my face, rub my eyes. “What are we doing? What kind of world am I going to bring a baby into?”
“We,” he says, his face like stone. “Not I. We.”
“But that’s the point.”
He lies down on his side. It’s like he knows what I mean. Thinks it too. “I shouldn’t have found out the way I did.”
“I just found out myself,” I say, but it’s not true. I’ve known. I’ve just been too afraid to face it.
He touches my face, turns it so I have to look at him. “I don’t like it when you lie to me.”
I don’t deny the lie.
“How long have you known?”
