A different kind of pressure builds in the base of my stomach—afeeling I’m not familiar with.
“You think Kiervan or Elijah could make you feel this good?” Kohen flicks my nipple, and I bite down a scream, making the heart rate monitor go berserk. “I asked you a question.”
“Better,” I snap, even though the thought of going near either of them makes me sick to my stomach. They both deserve to rot for all the shit they’ve done.
Kohen curves his fingers just right, hitting the spot that makes white light dance behind my vision. The buildup of pressure doesn’t just ease, it falls over the edge and crashes into the water below. I cry out, throwing my head back as warmth gushes out from between my legs and soaks the sheet. The sudden motion causes the clamps to create delightful pain.
“Shh, not so loud. We wouldn’t want someone to come in and see you like this.” He covers my mouth with his hand, his sinister, teasing voice wrapping around me to make my toes curl. His attempt at silencing me doesn’t do much other than muffle the sounds. “Figures my klepto would be a squirter.”
The first thought that goes through my mind is to bite him. And that’s exactly what I do; I open my mouth and sink my teeth into the tender flesh of his fingers, using them to stifle my moans.
“Fuck,” he growls, keeping his hand exactly where it is, and his fingers curled to make the pressure in my core soar higher.
Now I understand why women want vocal men. I hurt him—on purpose—and he sounds like he’s going to reach a violent ecstasy. The same ecstasy I’m chasing to new heights. It hits faster than I realize because my teeth come down harder as I choke on a scream. Scrambling for his chest or the sheets of the bed with my bound hands, anything to keep me grounded as fireworks explode throughevery cell in my body so savagely I think I might pass out.
Kohen frees his hand from my bite the second I go lax, his other sliding out of me with a loud, wet noise. The next thing I know, his belt is off, along with his shirt, pants, and underwear, until he’s standing before me in all his naked glory.
Adonis. The word perfectly describes him, and his perfectly chiseled abs, to the sprawling line of his chest and torso. There isn’t a single inch of him that hasn’t been molded into a masterpiece. His bronze skin looks artful under the fluorescent light as he grabs something else from the trolley.
The tattoos on his chest are perfectly symmetrical: two coiling snakes that wrap around his back.
The real showstopper is thethingsaluting me from his hips. I had no intention of letting this go beyond my own orgasm, but now that I see his cock outside of his pants… I guess it’s one hell of a way to die. Charlie better get her eulogy ready; there aren’t many hills I’m willing to die on, but as of today, there is a mountain I’m willing to conquer—and I’m no hiker.
Fuck it. Today, I’m all about trying everything at least once.
For my sanity’s sake though, I put on a show of fighting him as he positions himself between my legs, condom rolled on already—Jesus, it really is one size fits all. The heart rate monitor goes flying off my finger in the scuffle.
He wrestles my wrists above my head with a single hand, stationing himself right against my entrance. For some reason, the fury in his eyes hasn’t dissipated. He looks like he despises himself for wanting to do this. If that’s the case, then even if he comes, I’m still a winner because he would have hated every second of it.
My lips fall on a silent gasp as he pushes himself in. He’s onlyput the fucking tip in, and I think I’m about to see Mother Mary. I continue thrashing against his hold, moving my hips in the process to feel the sheer girth of him stretching me to the point it stings.
Cursing under his breath, he moves and places the full weight of his trembling upper body on the hand beside my head. He lets go of my wrists and withstands the onslaught of my fruitless fighting while trying to adjust our hips.
My breath stutters as he releases the forceps from my nipples, never once slowing in his descent.Sensitiveisn’t an apt enough description of the state my nipples are in. It’s so bad I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from groaning when his chest brushes against mine.
Increment by agonizing increment, he pushes himself into me. The heat of his stained gaze never once leaves my face. It’s like he’s trying to remember every part of this—every part of me—while loathing me all the same.
Kohen traps my arms between us as he sinks the entirety of himself inside me, reaching so far back that I swear I can taste him in my throat.
“Fuck,” he says, voice hoarse. The arms beside my head shake as if this is the most difficult thing he’s ever done. “You feel unreal—so goddamn good.”
My cheeks heat at the compliment. He had been imagining what I felt like. The ache that radiates through my center has me tensing up, ready to push him back out. But instead, he flattens his hips with mine, giving me more when I thought there was nothing more to give. I squeeze my eyes shut to focus on something other than the pain.
This is it. This is when the hurt starts, where the final betrayalwill happen, and Kohen becomes irredeemable.
He’ll hold me down despite how many different names I call out. He’ll grab onto my injured foot and pummel me into the exam table until my insides become unrecognizable. He’d do it all with a smile on his face, laughing because he finally broke my body.
Only he doesn’t do any of that. He stays right where he is, giving me time to adjust, rubbing circles over my clit to loosen my muscles.
Stay still and let me take care of you.
That’s what he said to me. He took the clamps off because they’d hurt when he thrusts. He took steps to keep my ankle free from added discomfort—demandedthat the nurse give me ice and painkillers. He made me see God with his fingers before he gave me his cock.
Let me take care of you.
If this is all a game, it’s going to hurt when I lose. The betrayal won’t just impact him; it’ll be irreparable for the rest of my life. What other ending is there if I’m letting the man I hate in? If I sat still just because he asked?
I will realize I don’t hate him nearly as much as I thought. It isn’t soul-deep or life-altering. I’m angry—pissed—but here I am, letting him tie my wrists together and strip me bare when anyone could barge in.
