Page 76 of The Commons

He stares at me. Saying nothing. Not altering, like he is intensely immediately jealous of something that’s not even happened. Something that could be his to have alone. And most likely will be. I hope he is all my firsts. My firsts and all my lasts.

“Capiche,” he says that in a terrifyingly calm way.

I’m silent and I don’t alter. And his silence is petrifying. Why is he not saying anything? I was simply speaking theoretically. I have to speak. He’s too terrifying. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No.”

“Then what?” Why am I pouting?

He shakes his head so nonchalantly, flicking it off, his eyes striking mine. “Your wish is my command.”

I stare and I don’t alter. Screw me for my big fat mouth. I keep talking; why am I still talking? It’s like I want him to validate me. “I just mean… I mean I want to know what your wish is as well. I just… I don’t want to do it unless I’m in a committed…”

He pulls me tightly to himself, clearly paying attention to my words.

My words mutter, “Um… committed…”

“What crimes have you committed against me, Shantavia?” He completely changes topic.

My heart races. “I haven’t done anything against you!”

He grabs my butt, shoving it up the wall and sliding it firmly to himself so securely. Like he is calling my bluff.

“Nothing that you don’t already know,” I confess, moaning against his grip so much my butt cheeks feel like it’s on fire.

“Urgh!” he grunts, shoving me up.

“Mmm.” I squirm. I’m so done for! And I don’t even know why I say this, but his wrath is so thrilling. “Do you forgive me?” My voice, breathless.

His tongue grabs mine, sliding his hands through my waist. Then, with vigor in his breath he murmurs, “I could never forgive you.” Okay, great to know I’m screwed for life with him then!

I gasp, trying to breathe as he pulls me tighter to himself. His hands slide through my hair so smoothly and gently—I don’t even know how that contrast exists. Gosh, how does he love me so tenderly and vigorously at the same time?

How does he even want me like this when this is the same guy who would fling me off a moving plane? And he is flinging every agency I had against him right now, bringing every part of me to bow on my face.

If that was his plan, sir, you succeeded before you even began. But he only intensifies his hunger and wrath on me now. How did I really piss him off, huh? I try to think… I mean… all I did was look into his eyes, look at his finger, challenge him a couple of times, make fun of him in my mind and in real life, fight him, disobey rules, try to bypass his authority, trick him, sneak into his office and play him for information to find my sister. Crap! He’s right. I am a criminal at the mercy of his passionate execution. And he is prolonging the killing, making me feel every saw through my tongue from his razor-sharp thrusts.

“What then may I do to appease you, Patron Pesh?” my words say softly.

He doesn’t respond. I’m so very hot, but he doesn’t give me a moment to breathe, grabbing my behind incessantly as though to punish me some more for my many crimes against him. My hands clench to his back, desperate gasps sprinting throughout. My face flushed, glistening, my fragile breath enraptured at his undoing. My hands clutch to his chest, desperate.

And thankfully, he speaks, “Once my wrath is awakened, it cannot be quenched. Not even by you.”

“Not even by me?” My voice fights to speak but sounds so weak.

He said that, like if there was anyone who could quench it, it would be me, but that’s wishful thinking. I have subconsciously done everything to impress him, even though he irritated me. Even though I’m supposed to hate him… And he is so difficult to impress.

“So, I can never impress you?” I say, teasing him.

His tongue sucks my tongue succulently, and he does it like he owns me now. Like he has been waiting from the first day he met me, or all his life, to see me bow to him. Then he says it, “You have no idea how much you pissed me off when you didn’t acknowledge me the first time we met.”

“Really, that much?” I’m quite surprised—he acted like he didn’t see. “Why?”

“Because I wanted your attention. I saw you. I came there for you, and I wanted you to want me. I was waiting for you to want me.”

Oh my world. “But I was a nobody?” my lips mutter.

“Don’t ever say that again. If you do, I will rip through that tongue of yours and shut it up so you learn how to speak about yourself correctly. Am I clear?”