“That’s good. Hate me more.” His chest is flush with my back as he moves inside me, supporting his weight on both elbows to not squish me into the mattress. “Where were you last night?”
“Out...” I moan, grasping the pillow with both hands.
He slams into me harder, gripping my hair in one hand to lift my head off the pillow. His lips hover over mine just long enough to sink his cock deep into me while his tongue plunders my mouth.
“So sweet,” he whispers, biting my lip, the pace of his thrusts enough to send me hurtling toward the edge but not enough to summon the orgasm to the surface. “Where were you last night?”
“I told you. Out.”
He lets go of my hair and sits back on his calves, driving into me hard until I’m shaking, almost coming, but then he eases off, before pulling out completely.
“Outwhere?”
“This is blackmail! Very cruel, horrible, awful—” I swallow the rest of the sentence when he curls one arm under my waist and hauls me up, settling me over his cock, my knees digging into the mattress either side of his hips.
“Choose a safe word, B.”
“What?”
“Choose a fucking safe word. Anything you wouldn’t normally say during sex.” He lifts my hips, impaling me on his dick, eyes boring into mine. “Red? Pineapple?”
“Checkmate.”
A smirk curves his lips. “Checkmate it is. Use it when you want me to stop.”
“Stop talking or stop touching me?”
“Both. When you use your safe word, everything stops.”
My smile slips off my face, but I don’t stop moving, his big hands guiding me to slowly rise and fall. Mine wrap tightly around his neck as I cling to him, not wanting to miss a second of having him so close.
“I don’t want to talk, Cody. Please, don’t make me talk. I just want you inside me. Don’t use sex against me. Keep hating me, keep hate-fucking me.”
“I’m afraid you don’t make the rules here, B.” He skates his lips across my collarbones. “I’ll hate-fuck you ten ways to Sunday once you stop acting like a brat. I’m notusing sex against you. I’m using it to shut down your firewall.” He grabs my nape, guiding my lips over his for a soft kiss. “I’ll edge you. I’ll make you submit not becauseIwant you to tell me what the fuck happened but becauseyouwant to tell me.” He kisses me again, nipping my bottom lip. “You’re just scared.”
“You’re wrong,” I breathe into his mouth, inching away.
He slaps my butt. “I don’t think I am.” Pinning me in place, he takes over the torture as he slowly, oh so slowly, hits my G spot with shallow thrusts. “Where were you last night?”
“I don’t like this.” I hide my face in the crook of his neck, and he immediately wraps his arms around my back, holding me close while we move in sync.
“That’s okay,” he coos. “I don’t like this either.” He flips me onto my back, crawling over me, and the deep, urgent thrust almost sets me off. “But what I don’t like more is seeing you cry. Who did you go out with?”
“None of your business.”
“Same guy that was here when you broke your glassware?” he demands, driving into me faster, the orgasm like a teasing wave at the shore, coming and going, coming and going, never quite reaching far enough to flood the beach. “Same one who yelled at you when we spoke over the phone?”
This isn’t the first time Cody’s denied me the release. I don’t mind that part, but couple it with the questions, with his angry and concerned at the same time tone, and the way he looks at me... my armor starts to crack.
I shut my eyes tight, blocking the oncoming tears, blocking his words, and the memories, but it’s useless.
Everything comes crashing down. The last thing I hear before my mind jams up is Cody’s next barked question.
“Same one who picks you up when you’re wearing red?”
Every suppressed emotion I’ve ever bottled up, hiding behind fake smiles, and a fleeting sense of control, resurfaces, hitting me from all sides at once.
Cody disappears. His bedroom, too.
