I could feel those now dead eyes locked on me the whole time. His hands were at my hips, slamming my body down on his cock at the same time as he thrust inside, drilling me hard enough to knock the oxygen from my lungs. I turned away from him, stared at the fraying, floral curtains across the room, trying to fight the orgasm building hard and fast.
“Fucking look at me, Lulu,” Hunter snarled.
An anguished sound, like a wounded animal, tore from my throat. I didn’t want to look at him. I’d survived the last few years greedily reliving memories of this man when the lights went out, the only man I’d ever loved. I couldn’t look into his hate-filled eyes, not while he was inside me. I couldn’t.
He leaned forward and rough fingers grabbed my jaw, forcing me to do as he said, twisting my head to look at him. “I said look. At. Me.”
I could tell him to stop. I knew he would if I said the words. I could fight him. But I didn’t, I wouldn’t. Shame flooded me—that I’d allowed this to happen, that I’d done this to myself. And that despite everything, I wanted it still. Was so desperate for something, anything from him, that I would lay here and take his punishment, and enjoy every damn second. Because in the end, I was as messed up as him.
His lip curled in some twisted version of a smile. It wasn’t a nice smile. He knew what I was thinking, was reading every thought in my head through my eyes. He’d always been able to do that.
“You’ll always spread for my cock, won’t you, Lulu?” He let go of my jaw and trailed a hand to my breast, squeezing hard then tugged on my nipple. I felt it in my pussy. He felt it too, his eyes getting heavy before he grinned.
Humiliation burned my cheeks. “I hate you,” I whispered. It wasn’t true, but right then I wished it were. He certainly didn’t deserve my hate. But hating him would hurt a hell of a lot less than loving him. Maybe if I said it enough times, I might actually start to believe it.
His grin vanished. “Oh, I know you do, sweetheart. But you’re still going to come all over my cock, aren’t you?”
He trailed his fingers down from the corner of my eye, the action painfully slow, then over my flushed cheek to drag across my bottom lip. His thrusting hips had slowed as well.
“Such a lovely face for such a traitorous bitch.”
“Please,” I gasped and shook my head, even as I shamelessly arched against him, silently asking for more. I needed him to stop. I couldn’t listen to the contempt in his voice, his hate-filled words. But my body was betraying me. Even as I pleaded with him, I’d sunk my nails into his skin, holding him close, grinding my hips back, silently asking for him to move faster.
The grin returned because I still hadn’t said the words. I still hadn’t asked him to stop and we both knew why. I wanted him. I’d never stop wanting him.
He dragged his thumb roughly across my lip and when his gaze came back to me, that coldness had dropped, the fire and anger was back, and burning brighter than ever.
“How many other poor assholes did you screw over?”
He tugged on my nipple again, making me gasp.
“How many times did you follow orders like a good girl and take one for the team?”
“No . . . that’s not . . .”
He ground his cock deeper, and I broke off on a whimper because it felt so damn good. Better than good, better than anything.
“They have a name for that. You know what that is, don’t you Lulu?”
“Shut up.” Tears slid down my face. I gritted my teeth to stop from falling apart.
He grunted and started to move faster, pounding harder, and the burn, the delicious burn between my legs intensified. I was on the verge of coming, but I didn’t want it, not like this. I didn’t want it. But instead of telling him to get off, I squeezed my thigh over his, reached back and gripped his firm ass tighter, afraid he’d pull away.
But he didn’t pull away. He tugged down the cup of my bra, leaned over, and sucked a nipple into his mouth. His teeth grazed then bit down before he slid his tongue across the aching peak to relieve the sting, doing what he always used to do, what always did it for me. I thrashed against him, panic grabbing me by the throat as everything inside me tightened. My emotions were all over the place. I wanted to come so bad it hurt, but this was wrong, so damn wrong. I dug my nails into his skin hard enough to draw blood. He laughed, rough and low, because he knew what was about to happen.
Reaching down, he slid his fingers over my swollen clit and thrust deep once more. And I was coming, screaming through it until my throat felt raw. Releasing all the anger, the pain, pounding through me. My body convulsed uncontrollably against his. I felt him looking down at me, watching me. It didn’t matter that I had my eyes closed—I knew he hadn’t taken his off me once.