And now she won’t let me.
It washes over me. The first moment she slapped me. “I want your hand there.Please! Do it!”
“I can’t,” I whispered against her collarbone. I was shaking.Terrified of going too far. And wanting it too much. “I’ll hurt you.”
Fire in her eyes, and fury in her mouth, she spit out, “Then do it! I need it, Aiden.Squeeze. I’m breaking apart inside!”
I remember the moment I realized what she meant.Containment. Just like that night I shoved her against the side of the shed. Held her wrists. Forced her to be still. I needed to be something solid enough to hold her together when she was coming apart.
Wrapping my hand around her neck, I clenched harder until she released a blood-curling scream of relief.
I remember holding her close after. Her body giving up the fight. Sobs tearing out of her like a feral kitten finally caught. My arms locked around her while I pressed slow, careful kisses to her hair. Her forehead. Anywhere gentle.
I didn’t care about anything else.
Because I got to fix her.
Pain spears straight through my chest at the memory—hot, immediate, suffocating. I step back. Swallow hard.
“Fine,” I say, voice clipped. “Clean up. I’ll be outside waiting.”
I close the door behind me before she can see the look on my face.
Despite her rejection, guilt gnaws at me. I should’ve prepped her more. Iknewmy size would hurt her, and still, I wanted that pain. Craved it. Owned it. And now that I’ve gotten what I wanted…
Maybe I regret it.
So by the time she emerges in my robe, pulls on a fresh set of pajamas, and heads toward her dog bed, I’m ready to make a change. I flip back the covers and pat the bed next to me. Well, over a high pillow wall I constructed in the middle.
She scans the tray I set on her nightstand.
“Sweet Tarts and more squeeze cheese and crackers?”
I take a deep breath of reluctance and nod.
The joy that blooms on her face?Almostworth the guilt blistering inside me.
She slides into bed, pulls up the shitty show she’s been binging on her tablet, and dives into the snacks like I didn’t brutalize her an hour ago.
I pretend to read.
But I watch her.
Cracker crumbs rain down across the comforter, and she tries to brush them away. Then glances at me with that dry, infuriating smirk.
“Don’t worry. It’shealthy.”
eighteen
“This one looks better,”I tell him, holding up a bottle of lube.
Aiden shakes his head, inspecting the label like it personally offended him. “You can get it, but it’s too thin for your ass. Yeah, the one I used was cheap, but I should’ve used more. Not this runny shit.”
He bends down and grabs a different bottle—the same kind he used on me two nights ago. My asshole still feels weird. “This one.”
I hold my palm out for him to pass it over, but he ignores it—and slips his fingers into mine instead.
I’m holdinghands.