Page 96 of Injustice and Absolution

“You’re mine, Delilah. Mine to use however and whenever I want. Say it,” he demands with a biting slap to my ass as he fucks me mercilessly.

But I’m utterly speechless. With shame. With pain.

His constant need to hear me say I’m his doesn’t go unnoticed. I tuck what may be his only insecurity—losing me—into my head to define at a later time.

When I don’t answer him, I feel another sharp sting across my other ass cheek.

“Does my naughty girl like being spanked? Is that it?” Drew plays what he believes is a game, but he doesn’t realize I’m not participating.

“I'm yours,” I manage to squeak the words out through painful breaths as my tears join my cum, disappearing into the soft fabric of the chair.

“Fuck yeah, you are,” Drew agrees.

A few minutes more, and finally, he spurts his hot release inside of me. With slow movements, he pulls out and pushes back in, spreading his seed deep in my pussy.

I thank God I had enough sense to go on birth control three years ago.

When he’s done, he doesn’t pull out. Instead, I feel him lean over me, then I hear the rustling of money being collected.

“Look at what you did tonight, pretty girl.”

When I chance a glance at him, I watch as he crushes a pile of cash in his fist above me. Slowly moving his fingers, the bills begin to fall... To rain.

Once they’ve all floated back down, he finally removes himself and squats down in front of the chair so he can look at me.

Running a hand through my hair, his gentle touch crushes me. It makes me miss the Drew who used to make love to me more than he fucked me.

Helping to lift me upright, he offers me one of his killer smiles—the kind I fell in love with that reaches all the way to his beautiful eyes. As I settle into the seat once again, he speaks.

“You should be proud of yourself tonight, Delilah.” He curls my hair behind my ear, prolonging his eye contact and gifting me the shine of his admiration. His warmth allows the thick layer of ice around my chest to begin to defrost. “I know I am. Very, very proud of my pretty girl.”

A sweet caress to my cheek quickens the rapidly melting ice. But his deep consuming kiss is like a blowtorch to the center of my being.

And once again, I’m putty in his hands.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

DELILAH

When Drew and I finally got home last night, he washed me in the bath like he did the night I was attacked at Mathieu.

Then he made love to me with as much care and longing as he did the first time we were together.

It broke a dam I didn’t realize I’d been fighting to keep from collapsing. With the emotional roller coaster ride I’ve been on the past week, I guess it was only a matter of time before I crashed.

When it was over, he cradled my quivering body and asked what was wrong. I told him I was grateful for him. For knowing what I needed. I didn’t mention what happened at the club, just that everything he’d done for me since we got home made me realize how much I love him.

How much I need him.

I know Drew cares about me and wants the best for me, but some days it’s harder to feel than others. It’s like a long, drawn-out game of Russian roulette.

Only he holds the gunandthe answer to my salvation.

I’m worried that the more I learn about Drew—and his fantasies and desires—I may not be able to give him what he wants, and that makes me feel terrible.

I want to be able to do it for him. To give him everything he’s ever wanted because he’s given me everything I thought I was never worthy of having.

And if I don’t do it, I’m terrified he will get angry with me or lose interest and reject me like Royce did. I’m afraid I’m falling back into old habits... Letting my insecurities plague me. Pleasing someone to a fault, to my own detriment, simply because I’m scared of the consequences.

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