Page 62 of Love Sick

I remember that he loved me as much as I loved him.

And it’s because of that love that we will win.

Dutch takes control and coaxes my mouth open with his skillful tongue. I moan as he takes control. He doesn’t just kiss; he fucks my mouth with his. He threads his fingers through my hair and moves me so he can fuck my mouth deeper and harder.

He bites my bottom lip softly before sweeping his tongue along it. He then uses that tongue to rob me of any coherent thought as he works me into a heaving mess. His lips are soft, but they aren’t gentle because that’s not what I want.

Unable to help myself, I climb onto his lap with our mouths still locked in a lover’s embrace and gasp when I feel he’s hard. Images of Alanna rubbing over his dick has an animalistic possession overtaking me, and I begin to rock.

“Fuck, Luna,” he says, breaking our kiss to peer down where my bare sex is rubbing over the bulge in his jeans.

Daddy’s jacket is parted open, my breasts on display, so Dutch leans forward and takes one into his mouth. He licks my nipple as he fondles my breast. With the other hand, he places it on my hip, encouraging me to ride him faster.

The friction of his jeans hurts in a good way.

I grip Dutch’s long hair and yank his head away. His eyes are wild and confused. His lips wet and swollen.

“Hit me.”

“What?” The horror slashes at his angelic face.

“You said anything. So, hit me.” I let him go, but his hair is a mess thanks to me tugging on it.

“No,” he replies, horrified I would ask this of him. “I wouldneverdo that.”

“She needs to think you pick her. She thinks what she said has made me hate you.”

He stills me from rocking, plagued by his fears. “And has it?”

“I want to hate you because nothing but tragedy seems to follow us, and the smart thing to do would be to stay away from you.” I place my hand over his heart. “But I can’t. And it has nothing to do with the heart which beats inside you. I can’t stay away from you because I love you. And if you love me too…then, you’ll hit me.”

It’s a bittersweet admission because it’s hardly laced with rainbows and flowers.

Dutch swallows down his revulsion at what I am asking. He knows it’ll work because I plan on doing to her what she has tried to do to Dutch and me. I’m going to drive a wedge between her and Daddy and use him to get the fuck out of here.

Remember, men are foolish creatures.

Alanna will no doubt inflict the harshest of punishments on me and the person I will go to will be her daddy for comfort. He looks like the type of man who likes to be the hero. He does this to excuse the fact that he is a deplorable human being.

I climb off of Dutch and stand in front of him, pleading he does this because Alanna will be up here soon and when she does, we need to convince her that we hate one another. We can’t fight her.

But we can mindfuck her.

“You’re a fucking pussy,” I belittle with intent, shaking my head. “My son didn’t die for nothing! And I’ll be damned if that psychotic bitch wins.”

I raise my voice, needing to get Alanna’s attention.

“Fight me,” I beg, knowing how crazy this is.

But Dutch stands firm. “Please don’t ask me to do this. I can’t.”

“So she wins? You’re just going to forget what she did?” I scream because I want her to hear this argument. “You’re her fucking lap dog! You’re pathetic.”

Dutch clenches his jaw as he stands slowly. He towers over me, and I love it. I love that this man who could hurt me would rather rip off his own arms than cause me harm.

But right now, his chivalry isn’t helping.

“Fine, have it your way then.”

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