I neither want nor need him protecting me from Gregory. I’m already beat, and I know it, so dragging him into this isn’t worth it, and I’d like for him to have that happy ending I’m never going to have.
“Hannah.”
“Go, Tay. Gregory and I have to talk, and I can’t do that with the two of you tearing chunks out of each other. Go. It’s Saturday. Go take your girlfriend for a ride and romance the hell out of her.”
He leaves, not happily though, and I find myself looking back at Gregory with a sense of resignation and no small amount of anticipation.
“Where do you want to do this?” I ask, rising to my feet as he steps back and holds out a hand.
“Were it all started.”
Chapter Twenty Four
I’m not surprised when I see the road we’re on and know that we’re headed for his house. He’d said we were going back to the beginning, and I suppose he’s right when he says this is it.
It’s where I first surrendered myself to him. Where he showed me his true colors, and the one place I know I will always see as a home, even knowing it will never be mine.
“Greg—”
“Not yet. We’ll talk when we get there,” he snarls, and I flinch slightly when I see just how angry he is.
He’s usually so calm and collected that I know if he’s showing his anger his control is shot, and what I’m about to get is a whole lot of pissed off, aggressive male.
I’m not frightened, not even a little, because his temper tells me he’s not as unaffected by me as I’d always feared. Anger is a lot better than cold indifference, and after everything, that’s exactly what I expected from him.
He hits the gate remote and speeds up the drive, coming to a stop of swirling gravel and harsh breaths.
I chance a peek at him from beneath my lashes and gasp, seeing the uncontrolled lust and fury he’s set free. I’m in his arms and being kissed savagely in the next breath, his mouth crushing down so brutally I feel my teeth cut into my lips.
I revel in it, kissing him back just as greedily, shoving my tongue into his mouth to lick at him with a desperation that has my arousal skyrocketing in a matter of seconds.
I’ve been so empty and barren without him, and I’m wild to feel his possession. Just one more time before I go back to my life of heartbreak and solitude.
He snarls into my mouth and shoves me away forcefully, my back hitting the door with a thwack as he snarls and bares his teeth.
“Get inside before I fuck you in the car.”
My legs shake all the way to the door, and I’m a breath away from crying when he flips me over his shoulder and carries me into the living room to toss me onto the sofa.
“Greg.”
“Shut your mouth, Hannah.”
I press my lips together to stop their trembling and lie there, waiting for whatever it is he wants. Whatever punishment he’s preparing to mete out.
He paces for a few minutes before finally gaining enough control that the expressionless mask is back in place. I practically feel his scorn when our eyes lock and he drags them down my body before coming back up.
“Take your clothes off.”
The order startles me. The passion I’d felt in the car has cooled now, not enough to stop me but enough to make me hesitate at the hostility I see. If I give in, I know there will be no coming back from this.
He’s angry and wants revenge, and the only way to give it to him is to give him the one thing I have left. The one piece of my heart that isn’t already dead.
My fingers go to the hem of my shirt and I tug it up and over my head, dropping it the floor. My jeans are next, and I hesitate when I am down to my underwear, my hands trembling madly.
“Do it.”
He’s so cold I feel a shiver race the length of my spine. My bra falls, and I drop my panties too, baring myself in a gesture I know he won’t mistake.
He smiles, his teeth flashing white for a brief second before he picks me up and takes the stairs.
“Greg.”
“Shut up.”
When he lowers me to the bed I feel my skin heat, and he smiles knowingly.
“You’re mine now, Hannah Newman.”
What he does to me in the hours preceding dawn is something I will never forget as long as I live.
He worships me, tortures me, and has me begging, pleading my surrender so violently my voice is raw and sobbing. When he finally gives me the release I crave and takes his own deep within me, I am nothing more than a shell, a ghost.
I belong to him. I always have, and I always will, and now that he’s proven it I don’t know how I’ll survive if this is the last of us.
I fall asleep, weeping silently as he wraps himself around me, the pillow beneath my head drenched in the tears I’ve been keeping inside for weeks.