Page 85 of Heart Sick

“Tell me what to do,” I beg, my back to the door.

“Kill me,” he morbidly replies, his long hair shrouding his downturned face.

“What?”I gasp, horrified he would even suggest such a thing. “I would never.”

“If you want to help me, then kill me.” He slowly lifts his head and the pain I see breaks me. “I am already dead inside. To be robbed of the only thing that made life worth living is punishment.”

“When do you hear it?” I ask, needing to think fast.

“When you’re with me. Or when this motherfucker is at risk of me cutting it from my chest.”

“Well, I’m here now.” Pushing off the door, I don’t rush and walk toward him.

He watches me with interest, but I can see that he doesn’t hear a thing. I think over what he said and decide to try something. It seems me and danger is what Dutch needs to hear music, so I wonder what happens when I combine the two.

I straddle him gently and press my lips to his. The ever-present spark burns brightly, but it’s not enough. His kisses are halfhearted. He needs more. To silence the demons, we need to feed them.

With our mouths still locked, I wrap a hand around his throat and squeeze lightly. A moan leaves him, and I feel him grow hard. He likes it.

Squeezing harder, I begin to rock against his erection. I never break our kiss. He doesn’t touch me. He leaves his hands by his sides and allows me to use him how I want. The harder I squeeze, the more frantic our kisses grow.

I don’t want to hurt him, however, just as I loosen my grip, he latches on to the back of my hand, begging I don’t stop. So I don’t.

I cup his throat, and he gasps for air as I continue to assault his mouth with mine. The power I wield is a dangerous mix of desire and control, and I’m surprised at how comfortable I feel. I squeeze over the pulse at his throat and feel his heart beating erratically.

We are straddling a very dangerous line because Dutch’s heart is still at risk. His scar is still healing. He’s not fully recovered, but does one ever really recover from something like this? I would never hurt him, but what’s pleasure without a little pain?

“Harder,” he orders breathlessly, slipping a hand under the hem of my T-shirt and rubbing over my bare sex.

I do as he says, but I need him inside me.

Brushing his hand away, I frantically tug at his jeans, and when his dick springs free, I don’t waste a second, and even though I’m hardly ready, I sink down onto it. We both moan at the connection.

I yank off my shirt because I want nothing between us, and begin to rock wildly, lips locked and grip tightening around his throat. I bounce on his lap, taking him deep each time I come back down. It’s heaven wrapped in sin.

Dutch’s breathing is labored, and I worry it’s too much. I don’t stop, however.

I cross my ankles around his lower back so I’m able to ride him with ease. His cock throbs inside me and it’s evident he gets off on rough play. I don’t know if I liked this “before,” but I do now.

“Fuck,” he curses, gripping my hand and forcing me to press down even harder.

I feel like I’m strangling him, but he won’t let my hand go. He lifts his hips, impaling me onto his dick mercilessly. My breasts bounce between us and I know he likes them because his gaze shifts between them and my eyes.

This is raw and carnal, and regardless of whose heart he has, it’s his heart I want. I want him.

When his eyes slip shut, and he arches his head back, I feel the flow of energy pass through us.

He hears it.

I can see him get lost in a world where only he belongs.

I don’t stop, and when I feel the familiar burn swell in my belly, I rock my hips faster. I don’t know where he ends, and I begin. We’re so close, yet not close enough. I want him to come first, but I can’t stop and I come so hard I lose my breath.

Dutch is still pumping his hips and only when his eyes pop open and he pulls out, coming all over my sex, do I release his throat.

He gulps in mouthfuls of air as I lower my ear to his chest and listen to his heart. The rhythm has always soothed me.

“That was incredible,” he pants, wrapping his arms around me. “I heard it again. Something isn’t lost if you know where to look.”

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