Page 56 of Brutal Obsession

I pitch myself to the side, throwing him off balance, and get free long enough to burst up. My leggings around my knees don’t give me much time to move, and Greyson is on me in a flash.

His fingers tangle in my hair, and he rips my head back. I crash into his chest, and he walks me forward. Into a tree. The rough bark scratches my cheek, my throat, my chest. And then he yanks my hips back again, and I grip the trunk to keep from falling over. My skin burns.

I close my eyes as pleasure and pain spark and tangle together, until I can’t tell which is which. He grunts, not bothering to touch my clit or try to get me off. My orgasm is building slowly with every thrust of his cock against my G-spot, but it isn’t enough to tip me over the edge.

He pounds into me with renewed energy, and stills all the way inside me. He groans and leans forward. His forehead touches my shoulder.

Without speaking, he pulls out and steps back.

Immediately, I feel the wetness between my legs. He came in me without a condom.

Again.

I say a quick thank you to my mother, who forced me to start taking birth control when I turned seventeen. She didn’t want any grandchildren. Said I was still a child myself, and she’d end up doing all the raising.

Greyson’s knuckles ghost along my chin when I finally push myself upright. He’s lost the malice and anger in his expression, so much so that I want to ask him what tonight means to him. It doesn’t feel like it has a lot to do with me.

Maybe only a little.

He yanks my leggings up, snapping the waistband into place, and leans forward. I don’t expect him to kiss me, but he does. His lips touch mine softly, briefly, before he pulls back.

A silent thank you? Does he even know how that works? My bet would be on no. The rich boy has probably never uttered those words—orplease—in his life. Because of his personality, for one, and also because he’s a dick.

I guess those two might be the same thing.

“Do you get it?” He brushes his thumbs along my hips, just above the waistband of my pants. “Do you understand better now?”

Yes, I think I do. The anger inside him needs an outlet.

My teeth are chattering. His eyes narrow, and it only seems to register with him now that it’s the middle of fucking January. He grabs his jacket from the ground and guides my arms through the sleeves. He takes care zipping it up, lingering between my breasts. He must’ve shed it beforehand. An earthy smell, plus a spice that I’ve been associating with Greyson, surrounds me. Andwarmth. Here I was, racing through the woods in a sweat-dampened t-shirt and leggings, like a dumbass.

Being around Greyson inspires dumb decisions.

“Thanks,” I whisper.

I eye his arms in his dress shirt. The muscles bulge against the white fabric. I resist the urge to reach out and touch him.

He grunts. His one hand stays pressed between my shoulder blades, and he walks me out of the woods. I let him forcefully guide me all the way to the corner of my street, and then I shake him off.

“I’m fine from here.”

He narrows his eyes, then nods. “Go on, then.”

I pull the zipper down to give him the jacket back, but he stops me. A clear sign that he wants me to keep it on, at least for now.

I shake my head slightly and walk away from him.

“Oh, and Violet?”

I glance back.

“Don’t even think about making yourself come.”

My face flames, and I swallow sharply. I don’t answer, turning and hurrying away. Putting more and more distance between us, hoping that I’ll finally be able to breathe with every step I take.

Spoiler alert: it doesn’t work.

His gaze stays on me all the way to my apartment.

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