He yanks at the panties, making me arch back off of the bed.
The fabric pulls in my pussy, rubbing against my clit.
His tongue shoves down my throat.
I barely register a condom packet ripping.
Then he’s pushing my knees apart and tugging the panties aside so he can ram that thick, hard cock in my pussy.
I moan and whimper, beg him for it as he fucks into me, making me take that huge cock, splitting me as I lie helpless underneath him as he ruts into me, taking my pussy over and over, claiming me, making me his.
His teeth clamp hard on my shoulder as he thrusts into me hard once, twice, then I’m shuddering as he comes into the condom.
“Do you understand me, Winnie?” he whispers harshly in the dark.
“I said”—he slams the flat of his palm down next to my head—“do you fucking understand me?”
I nod. Can’t speak.
“You’re mine. I’ll never let you go. You’re all I ever wanted, Winnie.”
He kisses my swollen mouth, still inside of me.
“You’re what I’ve been waiting for my entire life. The ultimate prize.”
And no, despite my behavior the past forty-eight hours, I’m not really a romantic. I’m a realist. And the realist in me knows a man like him doesn’t fall in love with a girl like me.
The weird thing is, though, I actually believe—sort of believe—him.
Is it crazy to think I’m falling for him?
36
FITZ
“And this is why you can’t just come in and start telling my employees what to do.” Crawford sounds annoyed.
I need him to be as furious as I am. “Winnie was about to have sex with him,” I snarl.
“I mean, you set up a situation where your girlfriend is used to strange men in masks coming into her house and sleeping with her, and now you’re upset that your negligence caused a strange man to break into her house to have sex with her.” He sounds bored.
I’m enraged. “Are you blaming me?”
“Ah, he is smart after all.”
“Well, fix it.” I order him. “I’m taking Winnie back to my place.”
“Um, no you’re not.”
“Yes,” I yell into the phone, “I am.”
“I need her there for bait.”
“She’s not bait. She’s my—love of my life, obsession, my prize—she’s my girlfriend. You’re not putting her in danger.”
“You’re the one who put her in danger. Look, relax,” Crawford drawls. “We’ll have her monitored at all times. It’s not like someone’s going to kidnap her.”
“It’s okay,”Winnie says, resting a hand on my arm. She’s still in the ripped shirt, holding the pieces around her.
