Page 25 of Wrath
He hated it.
This woman was doing things to his mind. Fucked up things he couldn’t control. They knocked around the room, pushing and pulling at each other until he couldn’t stand it and threw her on the bed in a rage. She landed on her back, breasts bouncing.
Fuck, he wanted to talk—to saysomething. His inability was driving him mad, but he didn’t trust his throat. Hadn’t had the balls to speak since the event. What if he was broken? What if he wasn’t…
Screw it. He had nothing worth saying, anyway.
Instead, he reached down, flipped her until she lay on her front, and then lifted her by the hips until her core positioned directly before his cock.
But he didn’t thrust. He stared at her, one hand caressing her perfect ass, the other fisting his length, squeezing tight, straining against the urge to pound into her so hard, he would hurt them both. When she leaned her shoulders down, offering up her rear, he lost all resolve. He shoved in.
Blinding ecstasy wrapped around his cock, and he had to fight the bliss. This wasn’t why he was doing this. He was going to fuck her, damn it. Fuck her to prove a point. Not—
He groaned helplessly when she writhed, urging him into movement. Drawing out, he slammed back in, and became lost in her feminine gasps of delight and the way his body wanted to fold around her as though if he didn’t, he’d lose himself.
This abandon wasn’t him. This irrational need wasn’t him.
“Yes, Wyatt,” she cried, torturing him. “Fuck me.”
Fuck you.The words echoed.
He thrust.
Fuck you.
Anger welled.
Fuckyou. He thrust again.
I hate you.Andagain.
I hate...And again.
Soon he fell into a punishing rhythm, gripping her hips with locked fingers, shutting his eyes to avoid the blissful sight of her perfect body sweating beneath him. Blond hair bouncing. Head arching back with passion. But she was burned into his retinas, and he couldn’t lock out her sounds, her complete and utter surrender, no matter how cruel and hard he pounded. When his climax roared through him with a painful, blinding numbness, he collapsed around her sweaty body.
Still, she held strong on her knees and hands, holding the weight of him.
And he felt sated.
And he shouldn’t.
He pushed her away in a fitful shove until she landed face first on the sheets.
Regret punched him hard when he noticed the angry red blotches his fingers had left on her hips, and the forceful disregard of his treatment. Yeah, he was a fucking asshole. What’s new?
“Oh. Em. Gee,”she shouted into her pillow and gave a muffled scream. He almost thought it was from pain, that he’d taken it too far—but she rolled onto her back, grinning from ear to ear, laughing and panting. Sweat left a glossy sheen over her skin, and her hand fluttered to her throat as her eyes rolled in her afterglow and she moaned, pressing her thighs together. “Fuck. Wyatt, that washot.”
What just happened?
He stumbled back.
He wasn’t even sure if she finished. Yes, she did. She must have. There was a point where she screamed his name into the mattress, and then she went all soft and pliant. Surely that was—oh God. He scrubbed his face. Not once in his life had he’d been so consumed with passion that he couldn’t remember if he’d made his woman come. He hadn’t even used protection. For once, he was grateful that he and his siblings were sterile.
Wait.His woman?He’d just called her his woman.
Get out. Now.
Where were his jeans? Frantically, he searched the room.
