I don’t want to think about how she’s enjoying the way I’m degrading and using her when I want it to be a punishment. Because I don’t want to stop.
I fuck her face harder, chasing away the thoughts with the heat of her mouth and the soft sounds she makes when I go too deep.
She never tries to stop me or pull away. She just takes everything I give her and asks for more with those trusting eyes streaming tears and mascara down her face.
And when I come hard and deep, so far down her throat she has no choice but to swallow, she makes this little humming sound of satisfaction that makes me want to do it all over again.
I pull out and she coughs, gasping, spit and cum dripping from her lips.
“Clean yourself up,” I mutter, tucking myself back into my jeans.
She nods and rises on shaky legs, moving to the sink to wash her face.
As she dries her face, I watch her. She’s never come when I fucked her. Why the fuck does that bother me so much? Itshouldn’t. A woman’s orgasm has never once been a focus for me. I absolutely do not give a fuck.
But Sophie…
My phone buzzes, but I ignore it.
Sophie glances at me, her face clean now, eyes still slightly red. “Everything okay?”
“Fine.” I pocket my phone. “When do you close tonight?”
“I was supposed to close an hour ago, but…” She gestures at the kitchen, still messy from my fight with Rocco.
“Finish closing. Then we’re going back to your place.”
“Did you want me to make you something first? I have—”
“No.” I move toward the door, needing distance and air. “Just come home when you’re done.”
Home.
Fuck.
I’m out the door before she can respond, before she can see whatever the fuck is showing on my face right now. Because somewhere between beating Rocco’s face in for disrespecting her and learning that Sophie has never had an orgasm with anyone, something shifted.
And I don’t fucking like it.
She’s supposed to be bait, a weapon. She’s not supposed to matter. But standing in that kitchen, watching her clean up blood without flinching, listening to her calmly explain how she’s never expected anything from the men she fucks—
I want to break something. I want to hunt down every man who’s ever used her and make them pay for treating her like she was disposable. And I want to make her come so hard she forgets her own fucking name.
Andthatis a mother fucking problem.
I resolve instead to break her. To break her down, humiliate her, degrade her, and fuck her until I finally find her fucking limits and make her beg me to stop.
23
Sophie
The kitchen makes my apartment smell like heaven, I made sure of it. Roasted garlic, fresh rosemary, the rich olive oil heating on the stove. I’m threading kitchen twine through a needle when Vin’s voice cuts through my concentration and makes my heart rate surge.
“I don’t want you wearing clothes when you cook.”
My hands still on the chicken breast I’m about to suture shut around its filling of prosciutto and fontina, I glance over my shoulder to see him leaning against the door frame like he owns the place.
“I know that’s usually the rule, but I kind of need to. I mean, there’s oil. And it’s not sanitary.”
