Page 33 of Defy

“No. It isn’t the time.”

“Dammit, I want the words.”

“You’ll get them when I’m ready.”

His thrusts grew erratic, and his cock grew thicker and harder inside me. He clenched his teeth and then rolled his hips in that perfect way, and I detonated, clamping down on his pumping cock.

Immediately, he began to come. We both screamed our releases.

Just as he worked the last of his cum out of him, he muttered, “Always the fucking brat. I hope you know I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

Good, because he was the only one who believed it wasn’t a bad thing.

Chapter Seven

Sophia

“Get on your knees, Sarah. It’s time for you to perform.”

“Not tonight, please. The children are home. They will hear. They will know.”

“You’re panting like a bitch in heat. You want this.”

“I don’t. I do this for you.”

“That’s right. And when you please me, I reward you. Now get on your knees and suck his cock while I fuck you.”

The buzzing of Damon’s phone and the bed shifting snapped me awake.

I blinked a few times and focused on the silhouette of Damon as he moved out of the bedroom with his mobile against his head.

What time was it? I blinked a few times, trying to clear the haze of my dream and focus on the now.

Was it a matter of hours since I left the precinct or days?

Stretching my arms above my head, I moaned. The only aches lingering in my body were from the marathon rounds of sex, not the ordeal I’d faced from the time I’d spent in city lockup.

Damon understood that I needed to forget the reality of my life and lose myself in us, the pleasure, the pain, the desire.

I never believed passion existed on a level like the one I shared with Damon. It scared me.

What if I lost myself in it?

What if he used it against me?

What if I became like Mom?

No, I wouldn’t soil what I had with Damon by putting it in any category as my parents.

A flash of the dream appeared from moments earlier in my mind. I was in my childhood bedroom, next to the library, hearing the activities of my parents.

I remembered flashes of things from long ago. I knew some of it may never make sense since I viewed it from the lens of a child. But I now understood others entirely, making me despise Bryant Morelli with a passion to rival my brothers.

And then Mom, a victim, but not at the same time. She took the abuse for the privileges.

Everything about my parents revolved around preserving what they actually loved—power, money, status. And they would go to any lengths to keep all of them, even if it meant destroying their children. They had to know I could hear them. Why would they want me to listen to them?

Still, that dream about my childhood haunted me. They came in higher frequency now. I wasn’t sure why.

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