I just kissed him back.
"Tell me I'm unstable."
God, fuck me already. I pressed my palms down on the table so I could lean into him.
His fingers slid down my sides, stopping at my waist as he pulled me off the table. He turned me around and pressed my naked torso against the cold glass.
"Tell me to stop." He pushed my jeans down my thighs, his hands lingering on my ass.
I moved my legs farther apart.
He grabbed my waist. "Fuck," he groaned as he thrust into me from behind.
The force pushed me forward, making my hipbones dig into the side of the table. That's all it took for me to forget that I was mad at him. I pressed my hands against the glass, moving to match his thrusts. It felt amazing. But I hated that I didn't know if I liked it, or if I just didn't know what it was like to experience pleasure without pain.
"Harder," I moaned.
His fingertips dug into my hips. All I could feel was the sensation of his cock rubbing against all of my walls.
"God, V!" I felt myself clenching around him. I didn't care that it was twisted. It felt so fucking right.
He continued to slide his cock in and out of me, riding out my orgasm. As soon as I had come down from my high, he pulled out of me.
I knew he hadn't cum yet. I hadn't felt him. "V?" I panted.
He grabbed my hips and flipped me over so that my back was pressed against the table. He was pumping his hand up and down his length as he stared down at me with a heated gaze. This was his way of proving he was in control of this situation. Of his mind. Of everything I was scared of.
He put his knee against my shin, separating my legs, and stepped between my thighs. His hand slowed for a second and the first stream of hot liquid landed on the center of my chest. Then my stomach. And my chest again. He milked his cock until every last drop was splattered against my flesh.
He pulled his sweatpants back up as he stared down at me. And then he walked away.
"V?"
He continued to walk away.
I pushed myself up until I was resting on my elbows. "Don't leave me like this!" I tried to grab my shirt with my toes without spilling his semen all over the table.
He reappeared just as I made contact with my shirt. He was carrying a towel. I let my leg relax. I just stared at him as he slowly wiped his cum off of my breasts. If this was his proof that he could take care of me, it wasn't quite enough.
"Can I learn how to use a gun now?" I asked.
A small smile spread across his lips. "No." He ran the towel down my stomach.
"You said you were a reflection of me. So if I'm crazy, so are you."
"And I don't use a gun." He nodded over to where his bow was hanging on the side of the target.
"You're going to teach me to use that?"
He laughed. "No."
"V!"
"You don't need to learn how to use anything. Let me protect you."
"I don't want you to protect me. I want to be able to take care of myself."
He wiped the cloth against my stomach once more and then set it down on the side of the table. He leaned forward, placing his hands on the table on either side of me. "Then I'll teach you in two days."