“You don’t understand,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Then explain it to me.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both.”The word came out rough, almost pained.He was staring at the wall over my shoulder, refusing to meet my eyes.“There are things about me you don’t know.Things I can’t tell you.”
“I’m not asking for your secrets.”I softened my grip on his arm but didn’t let go.“I’m asking why you’re so determined to pretend you feel nothing when we both know that’s a lie.”
Something rippled across his face.His eyes squeezed shut, and for a moment he looked like a man fighting a battle on two fronts.His free hand came up to press against his chest, fingers digging in like he was trying to hold something back.
“Raphael.”
His name in my mouth seemed to break something loose.When his eyes opened again, they were darker than I’d ever seen them.Wilder.Like something behind them was clawing for control.
For one heartbeat, I thought he would finally be honest.Finally admit what we both knew.
Instead, his expression hardened into something cruel.
“You want to know what this is?”His voice dropped, cold and sharp as a blade.“Fine.I’ll show you.”
He moved so fast I didn’t have time to react.One moment I was standing there, hand on his arm.The next he’d spun me around, bent me over the foot of the bed, my cheek pressed against the cool silk of his comforter.
“Raphael, what?—”
“You wanted to know what you are to me.”His hand pressed down between my shoulder blades, holding me in place.“A body.A contract.Something I own.”
The first slap landed on my ass before I could respond.
I gasped, more from shock than pain.The sting bloomed hot across my skin, radiating outward in waves.
“This is what you signed up for.”Another slap, harder this time.“This is what you sold me.”
“Stop trying to?—”
A third slap cut off my words.My hands fisted in the silk.Heat was building where he’d struck, spreading down between my thighs despite every rational objection my brain was screaming.
“Stop trying to what?”His voice was mocking now.“Stop trying to remind you of your place?Stop trying to make you hate me?”
The fourth slap was the hardest yet.I cried out, my back arching involuntarily, and I felt something shift in my body.The pain was transforming into something else.Something my traitorous flesh recognized and wanted more of.
“That’s it.”His voice dropped lower, satisfaction threading through the cruelty.“Your body knows what it needs even if you won’t admit it.”
“I hate you.”
“Good.”Another slap.“Hate me.It’s easier that way.”
He set a rhythm then, alternating cheeks, varying the intensity.Some strikes were sharp and punishing.Others were almost gentle, just enough to keep the heat building.My skin burned.My pussy was getting wet against my will, slick and swollen and aching.
I tried to hold onto my anger.Tried to remember that this was manipulation, that he was pushing me away on purpose, that every cruel word was designed to make me feel exactly as worthless as he claimed I was.
But my body wasn’t listening.
“You’re dripping.”His fingers slid between my thighs without warning, gathering the evidence of my arousal.“You can tell yourself you hate this.We both know the truth.”
“Fuck you.”
