Page 105 of Deep End

“I’m not sure that you get it, Scarlett,” he says in my ear, and it happens so quickly—one second I straddle him, the next I’m kneeling on the floor, his clothes between my knees and the linoleum. My elbows brace on the low bench, and only one person can control where and how I move.

Lukas. Behind me.

“Actually, Iknowyou don’t.”

“I—”

“I’m starting to suspect that you don’t understand a single fucking thing, Scarlett.”

There’s something like barely restrained fury in the icy pitch of his voice. Fear rolls into me, and I respond like a fine-tuned instrument. I’m alreadysowet, it’s embarrassing, and he can tell. He yanks my panties down, hands sliding under his hoodie to tighten around my waist with bruising force. The hot imprint of his cock presses against my skin through his jeans.

“Remember what you asked me earlier?”

“I don’t—” I choke out, then stop. But it’s fine, because he doesn’t want an answer. His hand wraps around my mouth and I moan against it. I can’t breathe. I feel dizzy. I want more of this.

“I walked into your room, and you looked at me, and you said . . .”

His hand loosens, and I take in a big gulp of air. “I don’tknow. I don’tremember.”

“You asked if I was there for a pity fuck,” he whispers in my ear. His anger is terrifying. “And I let it go, because while you may think I’m mean—” His thumb and index fingers find my nipple and pinch it, pushing hot liquid into my abdomen. “I’m actually nice, Scarlett. And you weren’t doing great. Now, though.” He must have unzipped, because I suddenly feel the scalding length of his cock on my lower back, in the crease of my ass. “Does this”—he rolls his hips—“feel like a pity fuck to you?”

“No.”

His hand travels around my hip bone, then lower, softly tracing just outside of my cunt. “Look at you. Soaked. I fucking love it.” He sucks a kiss into my jaw, a scrape of teeth, and then . . .

With an echoing sound, his other hand slaps against the right side of my bottom.

Lukas lets out a low, guttural grunt.

My mind goes completely blank.

“What do you do if you want me to stop, baby?”

I’m trembling. My ass cheek is hot, pain and pleasure radiating from where he hit me. He kneads the soft flesh, the fat, the muscle, and I—IthoughtI knew what being turned on meant, but I had no idea.

“Scarlett.” Another slap—less firm. To get my attention. “What do you do if you want me to stop?”

“I—I saystop.”

“Good girl. Should I stop?”

I shake my head like my life depends on it, wondering if I’ve ever wanted anythingmore. But his palm hits once again, and I cannot think, just feel, experience howgoodit is, the burn and the pleasure mixed together, the perverse, satisfying feeling of knowing that right now I’m as much the center of Lukas’s universe as he is of mine.

“I don’t fuck you because I pity you. But whydoI fuck you, Scarlett?”

Slap.

“B-because—”

His teeth scrape against my jaw.

Slap.

A precious, first Communion kiss on my cheek.

Slap.

“You don’t know, do you?”

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