Page 52 of Regressive

“I guess that’s why we like you then, because neither are we.”

His hands slide up my skirt, hiking my foot up on the bench. He kisses the scar again, but pushes his fingers underneath my panties. He rubs against my clit, sending shockwaves deep to my core. “You like it?” he asks.

“Mmhmm.”

“You’re getting wet for me, aren’t you?”

I nod, biting down on my bottom lip. My pussy is inches from his face, my foot is planted on the bench. He rubs tiny circles against my nub, until my breath is labored and if he doesn’t stop I’ll come like this, right on his hand.

“Elon,” I warn. “I’m going to—"

He drops his hand and drags me onto his lap. I feel him beneath me—hard and eager. He shudders, and I think it’s from pain, but when his eyes meet mine, I sense it’s something deeper.

Maybe Elon and I have a connection after all.

I kiss him gently, taking care not to bruise his already busted lip, he doesn’t seem to care, coming at me hard, fingers digging into my skin like he’s trying to claw his way inside. Between my legs, he yanks my panties to the side, brushing his fingers over the sensitive, pooling heat. I shiver and confess, “That feels so good.”

“Everything about you feels good, Imogene.” He kisses my throat. “Everything.Your skin. Your body. Your pussy.” His finger sinks in when he says it, eliciting a cry. “So tight and wet. I just want to bury myself inside of you, fill you up until you can’t take it anymore.”

“Do it,” I say, it’s less of a challenge than a plea. “I want to feel you, too.”

My heart hammers and my skin grows hot. Beneath the folds of my dress, he pulls out his erection. I can’t see it, but I feel it, hot and steel-hard against my inner thigh, probing at my entrance. I wrap my hands around his neck and hold on as he impales me with his length, sinking down to take him as deep as I can.

He groans when our bodies connect, my forehead is dropped against my shoulder.

“You feel so good,” he says, licking my collarbone. “So fucking good, Imogene.”

I like the sound of my name on his tongue and lift his head so I can kiss him. Tongues tangled, his hips rock back and then forward, his hand sliding down my back to settle above my ass. He holds me there, thrusting into me. Channeling all that anger he had in the ring into me.

“I’ve told you before—stop hurting yourself. Come to me, I’ll fuck that Lapse right out of your body.” He jerks into me, pulling me with every thrust. I hold onto him, loving the feel of him inside—he’s thick and stretches me with every invasion. I want him deeper, as deep as he can go and I raise my heels onto the bench next to him, “Oh,” I say, as he grabs my ankles, pushing them behind his back. “Oh, that’s it.That’sit.”

My clit rubs against him and what crests over me is unfamiliar—it’s not laced with anger or regret. It’s want and desire and true confession. It’s something I’ve held inside of me for weeks, my real feelings for this real man, hard muscled and pounding into me. The orgasm comes at me like an impact, hard and dizzying, my breath caught in my throat and my nerves screaming from exposure.

“That’s it, baby,” he says, breath hot on my ear. “Come for me. Clench around me. Milk my cock.Ownme.”

He rises up with his final thrust, holding me against his body. His fingers dig into the flesh of my backside, his cock buried deep. Elon’s orgasm comes with a roar, bouncing off the high ceilings, rattling deep in my chest. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Imogene,” he chants, each word accentuated with a punch, my pussy holding onto him like I never want to let go, because in this moment, it’s us. There’s no pain. Just feeling good. Feeling right.

Feeling a million miles away from this made-up world and the controls they have over us, I kiss him, wanting the feel of him linked to me last a little longer. The kisses are slower, longer, our chests rising and falling together as we come back to center.

“Promise me,” he says, pulling back and cupping my cheek. He’s still inside of me. I’m not ready to let go. “The next time you want to hurt yourself, let me try that first.”

“Only if you do the same.”

He nods, but there’s something guarded in his eyes. A wariness, like he knows he can’t keep his promise, even if he wants to. I don’t push on because with the foundations of our upbringing and Anex’s watchful eye, I can’t either.

22

Imogene

I’ve just comein from work and am hanging my bag from the hook in the foyer when the door opens and Rex strides in. His shoulders are tight, his jaw set, and my stomach flip flops in worry about what he’s upset about now. How much he’ll make me pay for whatever has made him angry.

“We need to talk,” he says, walking past me to the living room.

I follow him, nearly tripping over the hem of my skirt in the process. When I catch up I say, “You must be hungry—”going for the age-old lesson of feeding your man. They taught us this in the Domum. Keep your man fed, and he’ll be happy. Back then I didn’t realize part of the care and feeding of men was allowing them free reign of your body.

“I’m not hungry, Imogene.” His eyes dart to the couch. “Sit.”

I swallow and do as I’m told, sitting on the edge of the chair, eyes cast down. “Have I done something to upset you?”

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