Page 52 of Secret Obsession
I press my lips together and squirm. It just causes further awareness that he’s still inside me. He moves, too, sliding in and out just a fraction. Enough that when I shudder, it’s not from revulsion.
And that’s terrible, too.
“Bad girls don’t get to come,” he says, kissing my neck.
“Good, I don’t want you touching me anyway.” And something in me snaps. Or reignites.
My desperation to not give in, maybe?
Or the fact that Ialmostbrought up his brother? I can still feel those jagged pieces in my chest, cutting me with every breath. It makes me want to escape it—and escape Miles.
I rear my head back.
A satisfyingcrunchprecedes pain where I made contact. Miles grunts, and I throw myself forward. I manage to squirm out of his hold and fall to the floor. I bite at the knot on the ribbons, loosening it enough that I can get my hands free.
My adrenaline is suddenly blasting.
I’m up and casting a glance over my shoulder at Miles, but he’s right behind me. He chases me out of my room and into the kitchen. My fingers brush the knob of my apartment door, but too late. He slams into me. My front hits the door, my breath leaving me in a harsh exhale.
His laughter curls in my ears.
“So you are still alive in there,” he says.
I scoff. “Of course I am.”
He flips me around to face him. I tip my head back, my emotions suddenly tumbling. Anxiety, curiosity. His nose is bleeding, a little crooked. He reaches up and does something to it, and blood pours out of his nose again. But when he pulls his hand away, it’s not crooked anymore.
Just swollen and already bruising. He’ll have two black eyes by tomorrow.
He’s got his blood on his hand. I fixate on it.
“This is fucked up,” I breathe. “You need to leave.”
“Willow.”
“I just broke your nose. Why won’t you leave?” Those damn tears fill my eyes again.
That hand I can’t tear my gaze off goes down to my hip, his other one mirroring it. Then lower, over my ass, to the backs of my thighs. He lifts me easily, keeping my back to the door, and spreads my legs.
He slides back into me like he never left. Like he doesn’t belong anywhere else.
“Feel that?” he asks.
He thrusts in and out, barely moving, but the friction sends shivers up my spine.
I grip his biceps. “No,” I lie.
“Mmm.” He leans in and kisses my jaw. “You’re addicting.”
“You’re an asshole,” I counter. “This whole thing is violating.”
Although the way he’s licking and sucking at my neck…
I don’t know which way is up anymore.
Do I want this?No.
Do I want to stop it?No again.
