He’s going to punish me. I’m aware. But that doesn’t abate how desperate I am, how controlling I’m becoming to reach the top of this high.
Swiftly, he’s tossing the blade on my bed and grabbing my arm, jerking it back to the front of my waist and infecting me with venomous fury.
“Razorrr,” I whine pathetically, pouting my lip, my body shaking in distress.
“Bunnyyy,” he mocks me, mimicking my expression and moving my leg away from him.
Rejection cuts me deep.
My foot hitting the floor pounds my heart harder, my cheeks simmering.
Breathing harshly through the plaguing emotions, I clench my teeth, tracking him standing up over me, having to tilt my head back from how tall he is.
He messes with his pocket, pulling something out with a tic in his jaw. “Don’t wanna kiss me, huh?”
Ohhh…. shit.
I don’t have to look away from him. The black and white mangled and stained strip he’s holding in my periphery is plenty enough.
“That’s not what you think,” I say tightly, my fingers tucking into the hem of my shorts.
Not relaxing his face, his eyes slide over to the photo strip of Ora and me—snapping back to my face with sharp heat. And he says nothing.
Trepidation thickens my spit. I swallow tensely, actively slipping away to the hands of humility.
I feel stupid.
My shirt’s ripped apart, right down the center, leaving my chest fully exposed.
“If I bend down and try to kiss you right now, are you gonna let me?” he asks hoarsely.
No. But I want you to try.
I shake my head, fighting off the prickle in my eyes.
His jaw clenches, the taut muscles twitching his ears back. “Nice, Bunny. That’sreallyfucking nice,” he grits out, then snatches the razor blade from my bed.
Watching his eyes leave mine as he walks around me and heads for my busted door is my own form of torture.
I only have myself to blame for it. And it’s all because I’m constantly doing the wrong thingforthe right thing.
My answers.
That’s what I’m messing everything up for.
It doesn’t even feel worth it anymore.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
RAZOR
Stepping out of the shower with a towel slung around my hips, I don’t feel clean. And no, not because I brutally fucking mutilated someone. I don’t give a shit about that. It’s cleaned up and gone now.
It’s because I watched the splinters in Bunny’s eyes as I walked away from her.
What else was I supposed to do, though?
God, I’m so pissed about this Ora shit. I wanna bind Bunny tight, make sure she can’t move beneath my weight, and knot my lips with hers, taste every inch of her mouth and forcefully stretch her pussy around me.
