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Jesus, Micah. So this is all about Maison.

“Yes, Micah,” I moan, running my hands over the hair falling over his eyes. I trace my fingers down the ridge of his nose, cup his cheek, and tickle his stubble, feeling every inch of his face. “I know it’s you, Micah. I know it’s you.”

He comes undone.

He grabs my hips and starts thrusting so hard, my insides might explode. I fall off him, my pussy slipping from his cock because I can’t keep up with him. He swears under his breath and sits up, spins me around and slams me into the hard rock beneath him. His body falls into me with his full force.

The impact slams my head right into stone, nearly paralyzing me. It sucks the breath right out of my lungs. As I catch my breath, he enters and repositions himself by holding one leg and cradling my lower back.

“Micah, stop… you’re hurting me.” My voice is barely an audible noise, my vision blurs and my lungs are on fire from when he slammed me. His lips slip over mine, suffocating any chance I have of telling him no, or how much pain I’m in. My eyes roll back as my orgasm crests and his lips suck on mine till they’re swollen, and he continues fucking me harder than ever, pulling my legs up higher, crushing them into my body. He gives me no reprieve, even as we edge over the rock and my back scrapes on its surface as my sweater rides up my body, his hand sliding over my neck, bracing me in place. Not enough to choke me, but enough to let me know he’s in control right now.

He literally fucks me raw.

And I take him with every single thrust. I reach over and pull the sweater under my head to at least protect it from further injury, and as he pulls his lips off me, my body tenses and throbs with anticipation of more release.

“Say it,” he whispers, then sucks on my neck, leaving his mark all over it. The scrapes on my back and head throb just as hard as the orgasm that edges through me.

His name rolls off my tongue. “Micah.”

He pulls out of me before releasing and collapses his body on to mine, both of us gasping for air. With my eyes closed, we lay in silence for a few minutes, until he reaches his mouth to my ear.

“I love when you say my name,” he whispers. “I fucking love you, Olivia.” And just like that, my entire world goes black.

Chapter Twenty

I picked the wrong brother.

I realized what I am to Micah last night, what he needs me for. And I can’t be that for him. I can’t be his dead girlfriend, or whatever the fuck Olivia was to him.

After he said those devastating words to me, I rolled off him, closed my eyes, and tried to go to sleep on the wretched, freezing hard ground. I was numb all over, my fingers, toes, my heart slipping into a cold steel. I let him hold me only because I was frozen. His body kept me warm while my teeth chattered so hard, I thought they might fall out. He didn’t say anything to me after, he just pulled me into him like he owned me.

I would have given him everything, surrendered my entire self to him, fully chose him. But I don’t mean anything to him at all. Maison’s warning rings through my head.

“He’ll never love you the way I can.”

“He’ll hurt you, baby.”

“He’s sick…”

Did I really think I was different? The girl who can change him? I’m nothing but a girl of convenience—he only wanted me because his brother had me and neither of them properly dealt with what they went through. It’s his fucked-up way of getting back at Maison.

Micah rustled me awake as soon as the first ray of light peeked above the mountains. The cherry sunrise reminded me of the first morning at the lake, and I held on to that memory the whole walk back as my chest ached for Maison.

Tension is palpable as Micah and I hike back to our camp. My feet crunch on the forest floor as I keep a comfortable distance behind him, monitoring that bone weapon of his while I grip my spear. I refused to speak to him when we woke up. My lips remain tight now as he leads us through the woods back to camp, even though he keeps turning back to check on me, motioning me to hurry. I can’t walk fast. Every muscle is aching from the lack of food and water, my head pounding from where he slammed me into the stone. My wounds are still open as they graze across my sweater. I’m pretty sure my entire back is scraped up.

I startle when he whips around to face me. “Why are you acting like this?” he asks me, and I’m shocked at the anger seeping out of his eyes.

I cross my arms, my mouth gaping open. How is he possibly mad at me?

He blocks me, refusing to let me pass him. “I don’t understand you, London. Why can’t you give me my fantasy when I gave you yours? You were more than happy fucking me while I was acting like him.”

I suck in a breath.

Maison. This is all about Maison.

I shake my head and keep walking, refusing to even look at him. He’s not getting anything from me anymore. He lets me pass, but his overbearing presence behind hits me like an electric current. He purposely walks close, as if reminding me it’s him I’m with right now and not his brother.

I stop and face him, and he bumps into me. As his body presses into mine, the corner of his mouth twitches like he’s enjoying this.