Page 142 of Can You Take It?

“I told you…” My voice is muffled against the cushion, but it doesn’t stop the trembling edge in it. “I don’t know.”

“Not good enough,” he murmurs as his nail trails teasingly along my wet slit. “I need a real answer. And if you don’t know… I guess I’ll just have to help you figure it out.”

I have no idea what he means, and I don’t get to ask when he thrusts fully inside me. It’s a good thing I’m sandwiched between the couch and him, or else I would have toppled over. When did he undress? Well, that isn’t even concerning, but what is concerning is his hand coming across my throat.

“Fuck, Richard!” I gasp, my body reacting to his every move. “What are you—”

“How does it feel knowing I can take your life away with a flick of my wrist?”

“I don’t care,” I manage to spit out.

“How does it feel knowing that I can toss you away in prison for the rest of your life?”

He thrusts harder, and I can’t form a coherent response. The only thing I manage to say is something unintelligible because he feels so damn good. He can go to hell for all I care.

I reach behind me to steady myself, gripping his arm on my hip. I feel the blood rushing through every single nerve under my fingertips, and my eyes flutter at the absence of oxygen in my veins. It’s as if he’s bleeding me dry to fill himself. With another powerful thrust, he asks, “How does it feel knowing you’ll never be able to taste the sun, feel the rain?”

My eyes roll back. God, I’m so close that I can’t articulate a response. I’m glad I’m not saying it out loud because, yeah, I feel scared.

He continues, “How does it feel knowing that you’ll never be able to love me?”

Before Richard, I had never actually felt true love. My mother’s love was there, yes, but it was different—gentle, nurturing, like a soft blanket on a cold night. Richard’s love, though, is something else entirely. His love ignites a ravenous hunger within me, an insatiable desire that consumes me whole. He makes me carnivorous for love, something I devour greedily, like a beast hungry for every last morsel, gnawing it down to the bone.

He asks again, “How does it really feel?”

He releases my throat, and I gulp in air desperately, as if it’s the only thing keeping me alive. It’s like I’ve been submerged underwater for too long, my lungs burning and my vision fading, and now I’ve broken the surface, gasping for the life-giving breath I was so brutally denied. Our eyes meet, and I say, “Like a bird with clipped wings, fluttering futilely against the cage of my own emotions. Every flutter is a whisper of devotion, while every beat of my heart is a silent scream for freedom from the chains of my love for you. Yet, breaking free feels like an impossible dream, overshadowed by the circling vultures in the sky.”

He tightens his hand around my throat again. “That’s because, baby, you were never scared of death. You were scared ofnotliving enough.”

I start to protest, but his grip tightens. “No, that’s not—”

“Shhh,” he demands.

The pressure on my throat makes it hard to think, hard to do anything but feel. “Richard,” I choke out. “Please…”

“Please what?” he asks, thrusting harder, making my body tremble. “Please fuck you harder? Please let you breathe?”

“Please, let me…” I can’t finish the sentence, the pleasure and the lack of air making me dizzy.

“You don’t need air to come,” he whispers in my ear, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. “You just need me.”

He’s right. I’m so close, and I can feel the orgasm building, ready to crash over me like a wave. Just as I’m about to topple over the edge, he stops moving inside me. My entire body radiates anger and frustration. I try to express my need, but his grip on my neck is too tight. I manage to look at him, desperation in my eyes.

“Please,” I gasp.

When he doesn’t move, I realize it’s not what he wants to hear this time. He wants me to confess my love for him, but I’m not about to give in that easily. I bite my lip, searching for something that’ll be close enough to satisfy him without completely surrendering.

Summoning every bit of strength, I choke out, “There’s no heaven waiting for my soul, but when you’re inside me, it’s the closest I’ll ever get.”

He tightens his grip on my neck, and I can feel the pressure building, like he’s trying to force the words out of me. He bends closer to my ear, and whispers, “I’m not here to save your soul; I’m here to fuck it out of you.”

He picks up his pace, thrusting into me with a renewed intensity. He shifts our bodies so my clit is rubbing against the armrest, and the sensation is incredible.

My mind is a haze of pleasure and pain, and all I can do is hold on as he drives into me like a madman. “Oh god,” I moan, the words barely escaping my lips.

“Yeah,” Richard growls. His hands grip my hips tighter, holding me in place as he slams into me with unrelenting force. “There—right there.”

He angles his hips, his cock hitting a spot so deep and devastating it makes me cry out. “Is that it, baby?” he taunts. “Is that where you want me to answer your prayers?”

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