I wanted him to be angry. I wanted him to be on the verge of losing control and to rein it in at the last moment, like he was doing now. His hand was clamped down on my wrists above my head, and his hand was now moving over my breast, flicking at my overly sensitive nipple as he did so. “This what you want?” he asked harshly. “Does this make you angry, Leda?”
“I hate you,” I spat out. “You are nothing but a monster!”
His lips lifted into a snarl. “Yeah, I know.”
I wanted to rip his skin open, to make him hurt like he had done to me, but in my heart, I knew that my words were nothing more than words.
I couldn’t hate him even if I tried.
His hand boldly ran down the length of my body, his fingers seeking out what he would find already soaking wet. “Look at you,” he murmured, his eyes glittering with desire. “You are already fucking wet for me.”
“Not you,” I growled, hating the gasp that followed when he brushed over my clit.
Lucas chuckled darkly, leaning down to nip at my exposed neck. “I don’t believe you, Leda. I think you like this side of me.”
I liked all sides of him, but I wasn’t about to lay myself bare to his hurtful words again. Instead, I fought against the grip he had on my wrists, feeling my own body respond in kind. “That’s it,” he urged, his fingers drumming a fine pattern on my throbbing clit, his lips traveling down to my swollen peak. “Hate me all you like, Leda. I’m the monster.”
In another time, maybe if he hadn’t said the words that he had said last night, I would have stopped him right there and kissed the pain in his voice away. I had been with Lucas long enough to recognize that fine layer of pain he hid away behind his snarls and smirks, the one that longed for someone to love him.
And I loved him. I loved him more than anything on this earth.
But right now, I wanted him to hurt.
His long finger pushed into me roughly and I gasped against the intrusion, the pressure intermingled with his teeth grazing my nipple. “Is this what you need?” I rasped, arching into him. “Do you need to hold me to the bed so that you feel strong?”
Lucas lifted his head and our eyes met, his hard and unyielding while I knew mine were swarming with emotion. “Yes,” he growled, inserting another finger into my wet entrance. “And you fucking love it.”
“I don’t love anything about you,” I forced out, the lie burning on my tongue. Lucas’s expression didn’t change, but he lowered his head once more, his lips locking onto the skin right above my nipple.
I gasped. Pain and pleasure battled for dominance to match the movement of his fingers pumping inside me. “You bastard! You fucking bastard!”
He didn’t respond, moving his lips to the other side and doing the same, never stopping the relentless movement of his fingers inside me. I hated the way he made me feel, how this seemed, well, unbelievably normal.
“Come for me,” he growled against my skin, pressing his thumb to my clit. “Make me ache for you, Leda.”
I hated how much I wanted that to happen. I hated that we were having this sort of sex, but I also loved it. It suited me. It made me want everything he could give me and more.
Finally, I was able to wiggle my hand free and grab ahold of his hair, tugging on it hard. His eyes were nearly as dark as sapphires when he looked at me, but the desire nearly took my breath away. I wanted him to lose control. “You already do,” I answered. “You already ache for me.”
Lucas didn’t answer, but he removed his fingers from my entrance, instead gripping his cock in his hand. Sometime in the midst of what we were doing, he had removed his clothing, and my eyes traced some of his well-known scars, wondering if he could see the scars he had left on my heart. Those wouldn’t be just skin deep.
I felt the tip of his cock press against me, and I locked my legs around his waist, forcing him to push into me.
“Quit playing around,” I ground out. “You bastard.”
His jaw clenched, and he buried himself to the hilt, a groan slipping out from between his lips.
I whimpered, raking my nails across his back. Tears welled in my eyes as he started to move.
“Fuck me like you mean it,” I told him through gritted teeth. “You fucking asshole.”
I didn’t want to feel anything but the pleasure mixed with pain that he was giving me. I didn’t want to feel the love. This wasn’t about love.
This was about hate, about his version of an apology that I wasn’t going to accept this time.
Lucas had broken something inside me with his words last night, and no amount of cock was going to fix that.
When he leaned down to capture my lips, I bit his lower one, the coppery taste exploding on my tongue. I had never been so rough before with anyone.