Page 102 of Endgame
She’s not that much younger than he is. And since he’s forty-one…
Could she have been my…
My mom?
Bile rises in my throat.
No. My mother left me. I’m sure she had her reasons. I’m sure she loved me, but just couldn’t keep me.
I’m sure of that.
That’s how I know the girl in the photos isn’t her.
Judging from these pictures, even if she was just a family friend of the Alders, she wasn’t alone in the world.
They would’ve been there for her, had she needed help.
But she isn’t here, and I was raised by the Clarkes, so she couldn’t have been my mom.
It was a crazy idea.
This glowering man and this mansion are my reality.
He’s a threat, and I’d do well to remember that.
“Aurora, so help me?—”
“No. So helpme.”
It isn’t a hardship to fake my bravery. I am kind of pissed at him for locking me out of here. For ignoring me.
I raise one finger, starting to count his offenses. “You’ve forced me to marry you.”
“A merciful move.” He pushes off the doorway and shuts the door behind him. “Offering you this place, instead of a prison cell.” He gestures around the room, his house. “Seems fair to me.”
“You collared me.” Second finger up. Third for—“You zapped me, husband.”
“You belong to me.” He shrugs as if that explains everything. I’m boiling on the inside. “And you were being a brat.”
“Then, you made me…” My voice cracks. Fuck. “You made me have sex with you. To do other things.”
“We already had this talk. We’re married. That’s the end of the line for you.” He shrugs, careless. “Funny though. I remember you begging me to make you come. Demanding me to tell you where I’d been because of how much you missed me. So spare me the bullshit, Aurora. You don’t get to rewrite any of it.”
Everett crosses the room toward me, going silent.
I’m just as quiet. I’m too embarrassed and way too turned on to say another word.
My thighs clench under his intense gaze. The pressure from the butt plug enhances my sad state of arousal.
“You came all over my cock.” He’s closer now. His presence takes up the entire room. “You took my cock down your throat and came while sucking me off too. Didn’t feel all that forced to me.”
I swallow hard and school my face into something neutral. For as long as I can manage, my unhinged husband won’t get the satisfaction of seeing what he’s doing to me.
The six feet between us are now three, two, one.
I shriek when his hand lashes around my throat. When he guides me away from the pictures.
“You.” He slams me against one of his bookshelves.
