In that moment, I saw Neil as a beast in every way, shape, and form: devastating, unstoppable, and dangerous.
He didn’t even pause, continuing to take me, undaunted, trying to drive my pleasure to new heights.
I clutched his back, trying to hold on any way I could, and he let out an angry “fuck” when he felt my fingernails poking through the fabric of his sweatshirt.
It was insane, the way I wanted him but was terrified of him at the same time, along with all the other irrational feelings he brought out in me. My head pounded with those thoughts even as my body continued to yield to him and demonstrate the full power he had over me.
Neil stared at me with animal lust, but once again, he made no attempt to emotionally connect with me. He was driven, twisted, and vacant—a slave to his own want.
When his movements increased in intensity, I embarrassed myself, coming again with a cry.
It seemed impossible that I was reacting in such a way to his mad frenzy.
I hoped he was going to stop soon; it felt like the fury with which he penetrated me was unstoppable.
Or was he once again struggling to orgasm?
I would have taken him in whatever way he wanted to give himself to me because he showed me a world of such loveliness no matter how abrasive he got. The only problem was my physical weakness and perhaps my inability to satisfy a man of his appetites.
“Enough…” I pleaded in a stupefied whisper.
I was very familiar with his staying power, and I knew he could have gone on a lot longer. But I needed to catch my breath, to give myself a little break. I was too sensitive—aroused but exhausted.
Neil went rigid, pressing even harder into me like he was trying to break me in half. His fingers clutched my thighs with untempered strength, and then he froze with a masculine growl.
Finally, he had reached his peak, and he couldn’t escape the involuntary shudders that totally overwhelmed him. They were so violent that I shook with him. His shoulders were trembling; his breath came out almost as a sob. I waited for him to completely savor the moment of pleasure, which lasted even longer than usual. And, when it finally faded, he released me.
I felt the absence of his hands on me, and my legs were too exhausted by that point to hold me up. I slid down the wall to land on the floor, still sweating, living proof of what his unbridled power could do. I trembled with aftershocks of the pleasure that he’d given me exclusively to satisfy his male ego. He’d proved to both of us that he could have me whenever he wanted me, and neither Ivan nor any other man could replace him.
He knew how addicted I was to him.
And I knew that I was trapped in a dark void, the place his shadows had drawn me down into.
I rested a hand over my wildly pounding heart and then looked up at him from the ground.
Neil staggered back, disoriented.
For a moment, he looked dazed, but he came back to himself, taking on his familiar glower. He pushed his still-stiff cock back into his boxers, pulled his jeans back up, and was once again just as unruffled as ever. The only evidence of the moment we had just shared was his reddened neck, the mess that was his hair, and his wet, red lips, which wore the imprint of my teeth.
He looked a little shaky, but it was only from the jolt of erotic energy still circulating throughout his body. Emotionally, he was gone. He hadn’t felt anything except the simplest physical pleasure, the way it hadn’t been between us since our earliest days together. I felt like I had traveled back in time to my stay in New York.
“Satisfied?” I asked him sharply to keep from bursting into tears. All the feelings were still there; they had a stranglehold on my heart, but I didn’t want to make myself look even weaker in his eyes.
“Get up,” he demanded, ignoring my question. He ran a hand through the disheveled hair on the top of his head, and it occurred to me that, even immediately after sex, he was still just as hot as he was an asshole.
“What do you think you’ve achieved here?” My head spun, and I felt completely discombobulated. Despite the fact that I’d been able to climax—something that was inexplicable even to me—there had been no feeling in the act. Neil had just imposed himself upon my body.
“The same thing you achieved.” He cast the space between my legs a speaking look, telling me without words that we’d both enjoyed ourselves, though we had very different feelings about that fact. His cold expression made me just as much of an object as his blonds, the ones he used to pleasure himself. I tried to stand up, but physical weakness sent me back down to my knees. I shook my head, frustrated with myself and with the condition that I was in. Finally, I pulled myself to my feet using the nearest thing I could grab, the kitchen counter. I certainly wasn’t about to ask for Neil’s help.
“Did he kiss you?” he asked abruptly, confirming my theory that this whole incident had been an extreme manifestation of the jealousy he felt over Ivan.
A sick sense of satisfaction spread through my chest at the idea that he might be a bit addicted to me. He never would have admitted it to me, though, as proud as he was.
“And quit smiling. Jesus!” he scolded me.
“And what if he did?” I asked archly, and his eyes narrowed in challenge.
“Don’t push me, Selene,” he warned.
