Page 154 of Endgame
His love, I’m swathed in it.
His hand around my throat isn’t there to hurt me.
All of Everett is here to love me.
“Aurora, why amIpunishing you?” The speed and ease with which he rearranges his features are alarming. Hot one second, cold the next.
I truly am lost. Have no idea what to expect from him. I went looking for this. I don’t regret finding him.
“Tell me.”
“I stole your photo.” If I sound guilty, it’s because I am. And I’m hot. So hot. “And I got curious about the girl.”
“Hemight’ve punished you for your curiosity. I would never.” Everett’s thumb is demanding as it rubs my throat. His fingers are ruthless as he shoves them into my sex, all three of them at once. “Our library room rule? It doesn’t apply to you anymore.”
He’s stretching me. Making me squirm in pain. I don’t care about his words as much as I care about surviving this sting, the pressure that’s building inside of me.
“Enough, please.”
“Keep it up, princess.” A fourth finger follows. He’s pushing me past my limit, as desperate for me as I am for him. “Keep being in denial while you’re wet for me. While you take my hand like the good wife you are. I fucking love it.”
I cry with relief. From the effect his degrading words have on my heart. How he makes everything better by being ruthless and mean.
I growl, “I don’t like this at all,” so he’ll hurt me some more.
Hunger flashes in his eyes when he sees how I’m into him and his dirty games.
“Your cunt is sucking me in, begging for more, and this is what you have to say to me?” He thrusts his fingers deeper, harder. “I would’ve punished you for it…except hearingI hateyoufrom your lips is such a turn on. So go on. Tell me you hate me again. Let me hear that filthy lie from my filthy wife.”
“I hate it. I hate you,” I lie, even when my nipples graze the soft fabric of my shirt. My collar is off my throat, but electricity pulses through me anyway because of how much I’m into this. “I do.”
What I get from him is a mocking scoff.
And a thumb on my clit, stroking me.
He drags his fingers over that—fuck, fuck, fuck—spot inside me, and I explode. Pleasure takes root at the base of my spine, shooting up to the back of my neck. My toes curl. Legs weak.
My hands seek his chest. His comfort. His strength.
In his silence, in his presence, he offers it to me.
His strength and himself.
“Good girl.” Everett’s wringing every wave of this orgasm out of me. “That’s my girl.”
He doesn’t let up, and oh—oh, heat builds up in me again. I’m more than leaning on him. I’m holding on to him.
But I’m not the only one.
His possessive grip on my throat. On my heart. Everett is holding on to me just as much.
“Aurora.” At the sharp command, my gaze snaps to him. “I was wrong about everything, princess.”
He squeezes my throat tighter.
The lack of air, his expert fingers, Everett himself.
I’ve died and gone to heaven.
