Page 60 of Split

“Please, fuck my ass!” I cry out shamelessly.

“Well since you asked so nicely,” Roman chuckles, his fingers sinking into the flesh of my hips. He yanks me backwards, pulling me onto his thick cock.

I choke on air as his broad head breaches my resistance, my pain and pleasure receptors tangling in a twisted symphony of sensation as his dick glides deeper into my tight hole. It doesn’t hurt as much as it did last time; his shaft is practically dripping in the slickness of my arousal. He pauses when he’s halfway inside, granting me a brief moment to adjust before thrusting in further, my fingers curling into the dirt and my mouth falling open on a silent scream.

It shouldn’t feel so good for him to debase me like this, but I can’t deny my body’s reaction to his assault. Roman’s fingers dig bruises into my hips as he slides all the way home, his pelvis meeting my ass with a slap. I shudder an exhale, my body trembling with dark delight as he slowly pulses his hips. The moment he feels me relax into it, he ups his pace, arousal scorching through my veins as he starts ruthlessly fucking my ass.

His hand hooks under my hip, deft fingers finding my clit and resuming my torture. My throat is raw, my moans turning hoarse while tears track wet paths down my cheeks. I hate how responsive I am to his touch; how easily he can draw out my pleasure and how cruelly he can control it. But even more than that, I hate how much I want it; how much I crave his specific brand of torment.

Roman’s thrusts become frantic, his ragged breathing signaling that he’s close. I am, too, and there’s nothing I want more right now than for him to let me come.

“Please!” I beg, the pressure within me building until I can hardly bear it.

Roman snaps his hips forward with a roar, his cock pulsing inside my ass as he reaches his own climax. Heavy breaths saw from his lungs as he empties inside me, then slowly eases out, slapping my ass as I collapse to the ground in a sweaty, trembling heap beneath him.

Rage and indignation scorch my veins as I lie there panting to catch my breath, still wound up tight and hopelessly unfulfilled.

“You took that so well,” Roman murmurs, leaning over to stroke my hair back from my face. “Maybe I should let you come after all.”

A surge of hope flares to life in my chest as he rolls me to my back, rocking back on his knees and gazing down at me reverently.

“Would you like that, pet?”

“Please,” I whisper hoarsely, feebly lifting a hand and brushing my fingertips along the harsh line of his jaw. It may just be the desperate state I’m in, but I swear he’s the most gorgeous man I’ve ever laid eyes on. I crave this monster with every fiber of my being.

His lips pull back from his teeth in a menacing grin as he slides his hands up my thighs, spreading me wide. “Make a mess all over my face, beautiful girl,” he growls, green eyes glinting with delight as he dives in to feast on my pussy.

I bury my hands in his hair with a scream, back arching and head tipping back while he licks into me like a man starved. He tongues my clit, nipping it with his teeth savagely before suctioning his lips over the sensitive bud, driving me to the edge of bliss in a matter of seconds.

This time, he doesn’t stop. I careen over the cliff of release, freefalling into a life-altering climax. My body convulses as I gush all over his face, coming harder than I ever have in my entire fucking life. Roman laps up every drop like the ravenous beast he is, his stubble rasping against my inner thighs. It’s so intense that my vision tunnels, darkness threatening to take me under.

Roman’s name is on my lips as I give into the rapture of unconsciousness, eyes rolling back as I succumb to the dark.

26

I’m cocooned in warmth, safe and content. Pleasant scents of rose and jasmine tickle my senses as a soft cloth glides over my skin, the soothing sound of lapping water gently rousing me to consciousness.

“Welcome back,” Roman murmurs as my eyes flutter open, colliding with the striking green of his own.

Strangely enough, the sight of him beside my bathtub isn’t disarming. It’s oddly comforting to find him here, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows as he runs a washcloth over my naked body beneath the water.

My husband has never cared for me like this before.

This can’t be real.

I must be dreaming.

“Are you alright?” he asks, his jaw clenching as he trails the washcloth over a dark bruise forming on my upper thigh.

I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. It’s like I’ve forgotten how to speak. I’m so,sotired, exhaustion weighing down my limbs.

“Rest now, wife,” he commands in a low, even tone that brokers no room for argument. “Let me take care of you.”

I release a long exhale, my eyes sliding closed. It’s a nice dream, so there’s no harm in lingering here a little while longer.

The familiar sounds of Clara setting up breakfast pull me from the dark haven of sleep, the bright light streaming in through my bedroom windows assaulting my retinas as I squint my eyes open. I’m not sure how I slept through the housemaid’s daily ritual of throwing every damn curtain open, but as the soreness in my body registers when I shift positions, everything suddenly begins flooding back.The chase. The maze. The grave.

No wonder I slept like the dead.

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