Page 98 of The Sweetest Revenge

My heart rate spiked as my eyes closed and my back arched into him. "Harder." I wanted more.

His deep voice rolled over me, a hint of amusement wrapped around the edges. "You like it rough, don't you, baby?" The question hung between us, both of us knowing the answer. "You like it dirty."

He grabbed my wrists in one fluid motion, pinning them above my head against the cool floor. The gesture was commanding but not cruel, the perfect pressure to make me yield without fear. His mouth descended on my throat, not kissing but claiming, teeth and tongue marking territory.

The shift in power was electric. I could fight it, maintain the control I'd reclaimed earlier. Or I could surrender to this, the pleasure of letting go.

"Yes," I breathed, the single syllable carrying more honesty than any speech could.

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes: satisfaction, desire, and something deeper I couldn't name. The lights flickered momentarily, catching the sheen of sweat on his chest and the intensity of his focus.

His hips snapped forward without warning, and whatever thoughts I had scattered like birds. He set a rhythm designed to unravel me, quick, brutal strokes that left no room for pretense or pride.

"Take my dick like a good fucking girl," he growled, the crudeness of his words contrasting with the almost reverent way his free hand cradled my face.

A sharp breath left me as every muscle in my body tensed in response. The sensations, the roughness of his movements, the tenderness in his touch, created a contradiction my body understood better than my mind. It felt so good I couldn't think straight, couldn't remember why I'd ever resisted this, resisted him.

My pussy clenched around him as I focused on the way his massive cock filled me, the heat of his breath on my skin, his rough greedy moans mixed with the wet sounds of our sweat slick bodies sliding together, and the way we fit together so perfectly.

He ground himself hard against me, hitting that spot that made me cry out as I wiggled against him, desperate for more.

I was so close. So fucking close.

Every vicious snap of his hips sent me soaring closer and closer to the edge until I was teetering over, and with one last deep, hard thrust, I was soaring over with an orgasm so powerful it stole my ability to breathe.

"Fuck," he grunted with a harsh breath. His hands tightened around my wrists, and his abs clenched as he held himself deep before he exploded.

His body collapsed against mine. Our labored breathing filled the quiet room as we stayed still for what felt like forever.

He rolled to my side, and I shifted to sit up. "I forgive you, but if you?—"

"I won't." His tone was so sincere that I believed him.

CHAPTER44

ARIELLA

"Let's go, Ariella," Zaiden shouted up the stairs. It was six in the morning, and I didn't want to be up this early, but he had an early practice and refused to leave me home alone.

"I'm coming," I yelled back. "It's freezing outside. I need a jacket." I hadn't packed any of my winter clothes because I wasn't expecting it to get so cold so fast. Pushing open the door to my mom's room, I rushed to her closet.

Even though my mom and Zaiden's dad were married, they had separate rooms, though I assumed they shared a bed when they were both home. I slid open the closet door and walked into the massive walk-in closet that used to be Zaiden's mom's.

I remembered being a little girl standing in this closet with Kacie, mesmerized by all the sparkly clothes, shoes, and handbags, but now it was my mom's, and I hated that.

I ran my fingertips over the clothes, past silk blouses and designer dresses that whispered of a life I barely recognized. The closet smelled of her expensive perfume, Chanel, not the drugstore brand she used to wear. Each garment testified to how far she'd traveled from who she once was.

In the back corner, almost hidden in the shadows, my gaze caught on something grey and ordinary, a lone hoodie, exiled to the highest shelf. Of course. Casual comfort didn't fit her carefully curated image anymore. This single forgotten item was perhaps the last remnant of the mother I'd once known.

The sleeve was just out of reach, so I jumped up, grabbed it, and ripped it off, ducking as something flew off the shelf.

"Shit." I turned to see if whatever fell was broken.

A medium-sized black box was open on the floor.

Kneeling, I set the hoodie on the floor and froze, my breath catching sharply in my throat. The room tilted beneath me as recognition slammed into me.

It wasn't my mom's hoodie.

---