My fingers flex with determination, and I focus on the gentle pleasure of his thumb on my clit while he crooks his finger inside me.
Sweat slicks my skin, and I’m panting as I attempt to breathe through the pain.
When I can’t keep up the pretense any longer, I intentionally clench my inner muscles and sharply cry out into his mouth.
His lips firm around mine, a grim pinch before he recoils from me.
“Did you just fake an orgasm?” The angry shadow flutters at his strong jaw, and this time, the rage is directed at me.
My stomach drops to the floor. Cold rushes over me, and I suddenly feel awfully exposed. He’s not touching me at all anymore.
I close my legs and quickly tug my dress down to cover myself.
“No!” I say, reaching for his hand.
He jerks back, and his lips curl as though he’s tasted something disgusting.
“I warned you not to lie to me, Abigail.”
A pang lances my heart, and my chest tightens around it in a protective cage. I barely find the breath to protest, “I want you, Dane.”
He shakes his head as though he can toss my desperate words from his ears.
He surges to his feet, and for a terrifying, arousing moment, he towers over me like a vengeful god. My lips part, and I suck in a sharp gasp. His eyes darken as his gaze roves over my face, reading my carnal secrets in response to his threatening posture.
In the next second, he’s striding away. I stare after him for a dumbstruck moment.
“Wait!” I beg. “I’m sorry.”
I stumble after him and manage to grab hold of his forearm. “Please stay.”
He shakes his head again, but he won’t look at me. As though the sight of me is too disgusting to bear.
My stomach churns, and my head spins with rising nausea.
He wrenches his arm from my weaker grip. “Goodbye, Abigail.”
My door slams shut between us, a resounding refusal to listen to my pleas. Dane walks out of my building, and I fear that he’s walking out of my life entirely. I might never see him again.
17
DANE
CagedBird
Are you free to chat?
I’m sorry about what I said before.
Please, I need to talk to you.
I need you to use me. I need you to hurt me.
Istare at the string of messages on my lock screen. All to GentAnon. Nothing from Abigail to Dane.
I won’t log on to answer her desperate pleas, no matter how hard my own unslaked lust is riding me.
I’d been so careful not to spook her. I’d been the perfect gentleman. And even though I usually prefer kinkier sexual games, I’m expert in manipulating women’s bodies. I know exactly how and where to touch to wring pleasure from them.
