Page 97 of Unleashed

I kiss the hollow of his throat because I want to be closer to him, and he doesn’t object. His throat rumbles against my lips, and I freeze. If he doesn’t want me to do this, I’ll stop. Greg lifts his hips, and I hear rustling. He seems to be doing much better. He settles back down, and as I kiss his chin, he stammers, “I...I need to be... I need you.”

Surprised, I whisper against his throat, “What?”

Greg slides his hands from my upper back down to my bare ass and digs his fingers into my skin. Uh, what?

I sit up and look at his face as the light swings by the window. His bleak eyes plead with me. I suck in my bottom lip, unsure what to say, which is rare.

Greg picks up my T-shirt and tries to rip my shirt upward. I argue, “Hang on.” I pull the shirt back down and wait for him to explain his 180. He tries for my shirt again, but I tug on it. “Greg. What are you doing? You were upset about what I did. How can you want to...you know?” How dumb. I sound like a dork.

Greg slides his hands underneath my shirt and holds onto my hips, rubbing his thumbs over my skin, not gentle but in agitation. The determined look in his eyes disguises his fear for the moment. “God. Fuck me, Simone.” Then his voice shakes, and his eyes tear up. “Please. Now.” Greg didn’t call me Garrison. Sweet hell on toast.

Dazed, I shake my head. “But how?” Am I a high school virgin?

He blinks at me several times before grabbing my hand and pushing it behind my back to his naked hard-on. My mouth falls open and I shake my head again as I yank my hand back. “No.”

“Yes.” Since I’m not holding onto my shirt, he pulls it up, and I swat away his hands again. He’s not changing the subject. I take a deep breath, my voice trembling with his, and even though it kills me, I take the stupid high road. “Maybe you should go to Tansy’s. Like right now. I’m sure she’d help you. It shouldn’t be me.” Gag. Being selfless sucks balls sometimes.

Panting, Greg clenches his teeth in frustration and growls, “Jesus Christ. Only you.” His chest shudders with a sob, and he isn’t quiet. “This shit rules my goddamn life! I’m fucking twenty-nine years old and wallow in shame every damn day!”

“I can’t fix you!”

“But you can reset me for a night! Damn it! I need you! No one else!” I consider that as his fingers twitch over my shirt. When I don’t respond, Greg runs his hand down my thigh and whispers, “I need to be with you.”

“I don’t think you’re in the right frame of mind, Greg.” I’m not.

Greg shakes, shaking me with him. “Really? I’m fucking hard for you, Simone!” he snarls, and I wonder how much of us my dad has heard tonight.

He pushes on my hips to coax me to mount him. My pussy is always game for more pounding, but my head and heart aren’t on the same page. When I resist, he growls, “Don’t treat me like I’m a child, a mental patient, or that fucking eighteen-year-old who they held down in that basement. Don’t fucking do it. I’m a man who wants to fuck the half-naked college co-ed teasing him from tears to a hard-on.”

I frown at his summarizing me like that. This situation is sad. “But... This doesn’t feel right.”

“Neither does watching that bastard suck my hard but unwilling dick. He laughed as I cried and screamed. I’ve never felt so...ashamed, demoralized, and helpless in my fucking life.” When he expects me to disagree, he rolls his teary eyes. “It’s a goddamn daily reminder of what he and that rapist cunt did to me.”

“Is having sex with me really the answer, though?”

“I don’t care how it sounds, but I need to feel like... I need a reminder of the man I am and not their spineless victim. God.”

So many emotions ghost his face at the same time: rage, fear, shame, retribution, determination, and...lust. His lips part and his brown eyes don’t waver from mine even when the light dims.

My tongue forgets how to work because I have no words. As Greg glares at me, he grabs my ass cheeks and his voice drops. “Say you’ll let me prove myself.”

I look at his bare chest. So much shit brews in my mind, but it boils down to me always wanting to help. Why can’t I be a heartless bitch? I sigh and nod reluctantly. His mother would agree that this isn’t optimal therapy. Greg yanks on my T-shirt at my stomach. “I need to watch me fuck you. I want to make your pussy come.”

I gasp because that’s the only answer I have. I will not give in to an orgasm.

I move off the bed. He holds his breath until I pull my shirt over my head. He sighs to the ceiling, saying, “Thank fuck.” I watch his stomach muscles crunch as he sits up and shoves his shorts and underwear the rest of the way down and kicks them off the bed.

I feel somewhat awkward. Naked, I climb onto the bed and mumble, “Do you want on top?”

He shakes his head, staring at my naked body. I’ve always had clothes on tonight and hate being more vulnerable. But I’ll do it. My nipples harden from the exposure and desire, though this situation doesn’t turn me on everywhere else.

Greg grabs my waist and guides me to straddle below his balls. He lies back onto his elbows and flexes his hips, making his cock sway. Greg whispers, “Touch it.”

I purse my lips because I’m about to lose it. Of all damn times for my eyes to water. When I look away, he reaches for my cheek, pulling my face toward him. “I’m okay. I fucking want you. Want. It’s a choice.”

Not trusting my voice yet, I nod. I want Greg...but I don’t. My heart keeps telling me I’m in way over my head, where his accusations still echo. I annulled our marriage because he didn’t trust me and called me vile things. I need to also face that our love/hate dynamic doesn’t work.

Greg grabs my hand and wraps it around his cock. His hand shakes over mine, but as we grip his shaft together, I notice the wet tip. I hold his gaze and shift to bend closer. Knowing what I want, Greg nods. “Please.” I swallow before using my tongue to sweep his tip. I love his taste. He moans and whispers, “Again.”

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