Page 73 of Xander

His eyes searched my face with sincerity. I couldn’t get myself to say yes, and instead, I turned away to look out the window.

Once more, he grabbed my jaw and forced me to face him. “Don’t look away from me.”

I tried to bat his hand away. “Let me go.”

Stormy eyes glowered back, that rage of his finally showing itself. “Never!”

“What do you mean by never?”

“I mean that you’re mine, and I’m never letting you go.”

I clawed at his giant hand.

He took hold of my wrist and pressed it down on the bed. “Enough already, Jordan!” he barked. “I’m getting sick of your attitude. Here I am, offering you everything you ever wanted, and you keep acting like a brat. Stop fighting me at every turn.”

“Never!” I threw his word back to him.

We were both angry, livid in fact. He took it out on me by pushing himself deeper, eliciting a moan from me. “Right there, you feel it, too, don’t you?” he groaned. “Why do you keep pushing me away when you want me just as bad?”

“I don’t want you!”

“Is that right?” he asked mockingly. “Then why are you drenched right here.” He cupped my pussy, and I instinctively closed my eyes as liquid dripped onto his expensive sheets.

“Shut. Up,” I spat, which made him laugh.

“Fuck, I can feel your pussy pulsing around me.”

“Stop talking.”

“Aren’t we touchy?” With a low laugh, he pushed inside as deep as possible. My pussy molded around his cock as if it were made for him. The instinctive reactions made me want to die from humiliation.

Why was he bending me to his will this way?

I had thought of Xander as my friend, but his actions and words contradicted it. A friend wouldn’t have used my body without my permission. A friend wouldn’t have pushed me into sex when I was this uncomfortable with the idea. A friend wouldn’t insist on becoming my conservator to seize complete control of my life.

“Is this a game to you?” I hissed. “Do you understand what would happen if anyone found out about us?”

He frowned. “Nothing about this is a game to me.”

I didn’t believe him. It had to be a weird competition with Henry. A massive fuck you for all the shit Henry had pulled. What other reason could there be to pursue this, especially with Jasper sleeping in the room next door?

As if on cue, Jasper’s voice floated into the bedroom. “Jordan. Are you up?”

My heart stopped beating.

Jasper knocked on the door. “Jordan.”

“Y-yes, Jasper,” I stammered, which seemed to amuse Xander.

“I made a fresh pot of coffee,” Jasper said. “You want some?”

My blood thrummed with a sudden surge of adrenaline. “N-no. Thank you.” Even to my own ears, I sounded out of breath.

Jasper must’ve thought the same. He was quiet for a moment before asking, “Is everything okay?”

“Is it?” Xander mimicked against my ear, thrusting into me at the same time.

I barely muffled a moan, then snapped in an undertone, “Stop it.”