He leans over me, chest to my back, his hands gripping my tits. “I’m sorry,” he rasps in my ear. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
I push back harder, the pain peaking, spreading into something sharp and sweet.
“Don’t you dare stop,” I snarl. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
He doesn’t. He keeps going, jackhammering into me, until I’m sobbing with ecstasy, my thighs shaking.
When I come, it’s a whiteout—pleasure and agony, my pussy clenching and milking his cock, blood and slick everywhere. Hunter follows, pulsing hot and thick, filling me up until it leaks out, down my thighs and onto the hardwood.
“Fuck!” he shouts, a roar that fills the small room. “Oh shit, baby, shit shit shit!”
We collapse forward, wrecking the rest of the photos, shards of glass and family history under our feet. I’m utterly spent, panting with my big breasts smashed against the surface of the desk. Every centimeter of my skin feels alive, and only this man can do it to me.
He stays inside me, still hard, still twitching, before pulling out. I moan because it feels so good as he exits, and when I stand upright, a huge gush of semen drips down my thigh, splattering onto the hardwood below.
The sight of Hunter’s ownership makes me shiver, but not from fear. From completion.
Hunter collapses onto a desk chair, and slowly, I lower my nude form into his lap.
We sit in the wreckage, naked, breathless, and ruined.
I press my forehead to his, and for the first time in forever, I feel real. But how can this be? This man betrayed me. He withheld critical information that changed the course of my life. Yet, here I am, sated and panting in his arms, with no idea what to do next.
My body hums, but my head is empty, numb. My pussy aches, my thighs streaked with red. I glance at Hunter, see the dazed look in his blue eyes, and feel a flicker of pride.
But mostly I feel confused.
“Are you okay?” he whispers.
I nod, not trusting my voice.
He wraps an arm around me, pulling me close. “I love you, Tara,” he says. “No matter what happens.”
I squeeze my eyes shut.
My brain spins, stuck in a blizzard of images: the yellow kitchen, the blue bowl, the party, the lake, the crash. My old self and my new self, locked in a battle of wills.
I know who I am, now.
But I don’t know if I’ll ever be whole again.
I rest my head on his shoulder, let the pain and pleasure blur, and wait to see if the pieces will ever fit.
I don’t know if they will.
But at least, for tonight, I am Tara.
And I am free.
14
CHAPTER 14 – THE IMMERSION
DAISY
Iwake to darkness. Not the midnight blackout of city nights, but the grayish, pre-dawn kind, the kind that seeps into every corner and makes even the expensive silk sheets feel cold. I’m on my back, staring at the ceiling, still breathing like I’m running, not sleeping. There’s a noise—my heart, or maybe the HVAC kicking on again—and then a dull ache, like a bruise spreading out from somewhere deep in my chest.
Or maybe it’s lower than that. I’m sore everywhere. My thighs, my wrists, my hips, my cunt, my heart. I swallow hard and remember the kiss, the teeth, the confession that tore open the past and dumped it all over the carpet.
