Page 74 of Endgame
It’s like he’s making me take more than his cock. He’s showing me how possessive he is of me. How I’ll never get away.
Shame stings me everywhere when I admit that I want him too.
“That’s it.” He’s an animal, ramming into me. “Going to fill you up, wife. Going to get you pregnant. I hope you’re ready.”
“No.” Fresh tears roll down my cheeks when he spills himself inside me. Pregnant? I don’t want to get pregnant. I definitely don’t want to come again. “No.”
But I do. I can’t stop wanting this.
“Yes.” As if he handles sobbing women on a daily basis, Everett pulls out of me in a way that isn’t painful.
He’s just as gentle when he releases me from my binds.
“Come here.” He flips me over, carrying me to the edge of the bed.
Settling me there, on my side.
My eyes widen. First, from this strange gentleness. Then, from the sight of his blood-soaked cock.
My virginity is on him.
His face is nothing but sharp edges. Possessiveness rolls off him in waves as he strokes his still-hard dick. As he coats his hand with my hymen.
“Go away.” My body betrays me. Despite my words, every muscle, every cell, strains toward Everett, aching for more. “Leave me the fuck alone.”
“Don’t think so.” My eyes squeeze shut, but I sense him there. His fingers gather his cum from my thighs, pushing it back inside me. “You need this.”
“Your babies? Your cock in my mouth? No.” Though I close my lips, he pushes the head of his cock past them. “Mm-mm. Mm-mm.”
“You’ll have my babies. And they’ll be just that—mine.”
The meaning behind it horrifies me, and if I weren’t already drowning in everything else, I probably would’ve cried.
“And putting my cock in your mouth…” he pulls his lips in. “You need it to calm down. And because you made this mess. Now you’re going to clean it up and don’t you dare bite me.”
There’s a softness slipping into his tone again, and I don’t know what to make of it.
What if it’s a trick, a way to exploit my weakness?
Does he regret any of this? I can’t tell.
“Open wider.” He grabs my jaw with a hand that’s dirty from our arousal. “Wider, I said.”
Exhaustion curls around me, pulling me under in what feels like a swift tug.
I’m tired of fighting. Tired of trying to understand him.
For tonight, I’m tired, period. I release the hold I’ve had on my lips. Let him shove himself into my mouth.
It’s dirty and wrong.
It isn’t disgusting, sucking on him like this. Tasting my blood and our cum.
Strangely, it’s comforting. My body relaxes, my tears slowing.
“I wish I could hate you,” he murmurs.
At least I imagine he did, in my drowsy, helpless state. And I imagine other things too, with my eyes fluttering shut.
