Page 104 of Ramsey & Emerson

“Which is an answer in itself,” I bit out. “If he had no personal interest in you, then he would have made that clear, both as your supervisor and a decent human being.”

“Ramsey, I can’t control how someone else may or may not feel about me,” she stated reasonably. “Besides, Idon’t carehow someone else feels about me. I only care about you, and that is something that you better come to understand, and you’d better do it soon.”

“Or else what?” I taunted, squeezing her neck tighter.

“Or else you’re going to ruin this marriage,” she answered scathingly. “And if you think that I’m going to stick around to live in the destruction, you’re wrong.”

My other hand gripped her hip, and I didn’t care how hard I was squeezing her. “Threaten to leave me again and see what happens, Emerson.”

“Ramsey-”

“I will fucking kill you, I swear it on my life,” I hissed, my anger taking over again.

Emerson’s lips parted, and we really were fucked in the head.

Chapter 20

Emerson~

All the textbooks said that I should abhor threats of violence. They all said that threats or acts of violence could be possible triggers, and that I needed help with how to handle those triggers. They also all said that if I didn’t get help to heal from my childhood trauma, then I was liable to let the cycle continue. They said that my mind would equate love with abuse because I’d been abused by someone that was supposed to have loved me.

The textbooks said a lot of things.

Well, I’d never gotten help for my childhood trauma. I also hadn’t followed the advice of all those professionals, nor had I ever really talked about what had happened to me with anyone. Instead, I’d fallen in love with a boy that hadn’t cared how damaged I’d been, and that kind of unconditional love had been the salve to all those bleeding wounds.

Ramsey had also seen beyond those same textbooks, and instead of treating me like a fragile flower, he had treated me like a fragile bomb. He had pushed and pushed, never letting up, but also never crossing the line. Ramsey Reed was volatile with little to no remorse for anything that he’d ever done, but I’d never felt safer with anyone else. I’d fallen in love with a boy that all those textbooks advised me to stay away from, yet I’d never felt safer.

Ramsey would never hurt me, and I knew that deep in my soul. So, while other abuse victims would be horrified by his physical treatment of me, all it did was make me want him more. Ramsey was the tortured doorway between two different worlds; the one where I should run away, and the one where I couldn’t get enough, and with him, I was able to have it all. I was able to enjoy my demons, and he was able to enjoy his, and we’d never once judged each other for it.

Not once.

“Tell me what I want to hear, Emerson,” he ordered as he dropped his forehead on mine, the hand around my neck easing up a bit. “I need you to keep me from losing my fucking mind, baby.”

“How many times do I need to say it?” I asked, hating that I needed to say it at all.

“For the rest of our fucking lives,” he answered honestly.

Because this way wasn’t working, I said, “Tell me that you love me, Ramsey.”

“Baby…”

“Tell me that you love me,” I repeated. “Tell me that you love me and make me believe it.”

As soon as the words were out, Ramsey’s hand left my hip, and it wasn’t two seconds later that I felt his warm palm running up my bare thigh underneath my pencil skirt. Not only was he going to tell me, but he was also going to show me. He was going to make sure that I believed it in every breath that he took, and I was going to enjoy every second of it.

“I love you,” he finally said as his fingertips slid inside the already wet fabric of my panties. “I love you, but I’m not even sure if that’s the right word to describe what I feel for you, Emerson.” My fingers curled around the edge of the desk as Ramsey pushed two digits inside my soaked channel. “I’m consumed by you, and I don’t care if it fucking eats me alive.”

“Ramsey…” I whimpered.

“I don’t know how to exist without you,” he went on, his head moving down until his breath was hot on the damaged skin of my neck.

When I felt his tongue lick the wound, my body clenched, and the wet sounds of his fingers fucking my pussy were loud in my ear, turning me on more. It sounded obscene enough to make me beg him for anything.

“Ramsey, please…”

“Are you begging for my dick already, baby?” he taunted, making me moan as I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer.

“I’m begging for whatever you’re willing to give me,” I admitted, our co-dependency shining as brightly as the sun.

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