Instead of indulging me, he kissed the insides of my thighs, avoiding me, ignoring my pleas.
“Fuck…” I mewled.
It hadn’t been long since the last time he’d edged me, and this felt just like that.
He was truly evil if that was his plan, edging me before letting me leave. Knowing I wouldn’t be able to think about anything except his cock the entire time I was gone, that I’d rush back as soon as possible just to bend over and beg for him.
“Please don’t do this.” My voice was cracking, breathless, as he continued to kiss the sensitive flesh of my thighs. “Don’t leave me hanging, Row.”
He growled, still not speaking, as his fingers spread my pussy while his tongue invaded my entrance.
I gasped, my back arching off the bed, eyes closing tightly, as he fucked me with his tongue for a few seconds before moving to flick my clit then returning to fuck me. He did this multiple times, winding my body as tight as it would possibly go.
My skin was coated with sweat, my heart raced erratically, and my toes curled. I writhed under him, but he held on to me, devouring my pussy like he’d never eat it again.
I could feel my orgasm getting closer, and I knew it was going to leave us soaked and require major cleanup afterward. He knew my body like no one else ever could.
“Fuck, Row… I need to c—”
Rowen’s mouth left me, leaving me right on the edge. My entire body tingled painfully, my mind stuck between worlds. Everything got fuzzy, and my body cried for relief, but there was none.
My eyes refused to open, but I felt the bed lift where my stepbrother had once lain.
“Rowen?”
I blinked until I could see him, standing over me, looking hurt and angry.
Then, he walked out, and the door clicked shut, leaving me all alone, restrained to the bed, my brain still buffering from the way he’d left me.
No…
She was going to leave without telling me, sneak out while I was working.
What the fuck did she expect me to do? Let her go when I explicitly said we weren’t inviting those people back into our lives?
I rubbed my face with both hands as I stood on our porch, looking out into the woods. Just two days before, I’d chased her down and let her cut into me before I fucked her so hard, I had to carry her back to the house, passed out.
I peered down at the lines she’d carved in the form of a kitten. She’d been a lot more confident with the knife this time, not hesitating or worrying like she did back then.
It honestly looked like a child drew it, but I loved it. Other than her initials, it was my new favorite piece.
But then, she tried to leave.
I could still hear her yelling upstairs, crying and demanding I let her go, through the open windows.
My heart was in my throat.
Didn’t she love me?
She hadn’t said it, but I’d felt it in the way she kissed me, fucked me, in the way she poured herself into our home, making it the perfect place for us.
I couldn’t understand why she’d wanted to leave, but I also refused to let myself spiral. I just had to convince her everything she needed was there, with me.
So, I busied myself in the kitchen, ordered some things online, and once she stopped screaming for me—two hours later—I walked back into our bedroom.
“Av…” I said gently as I approached the bed.
She was a mess, tears running down her face, smearing her makeup. Her hair was no longer in a cute ponytail, her dress bunched up under her breasts.
