Page 28 of Cyber Revenge

And Patrick gives it, at least for a while.

Especially in the bedroom.

That night, I’m in one of his oversized tees, hair up in a claw clip, no panties underneath. We’d just finished watching a movie. Something dumb with guns and cars and testosterone. I zoned out halfway through.

But Patrick has been watching me.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, voice low and rough.

I go willingly, already buzzing from the weed and the wine.

He sits on the edge of the bed, pulling me into his lap, his hand sliding under the tee to cup my ass.

“No panties?” he asks, voice dark.

I shake my head, grinding my bare pussy against his jeans. “Didn’t see the point.”

He growls and stands, tossing me onto the bed like I weigh nothing. The clip falls out of my hair as I hit the mattress, legs spread, shirt riding up.

“Stay like that,” he growls.

I do.

He undresses slowly. Purposefully. Pulling his shirt over his head, revealing those cut abs, ink curling up his side like it means something important. He undoes his jeans one-handed and lets his cock free, hard, thick, and already glistening at the tip.

He climbs between my legs, kissing up my thighs, and then…

Ignores me completely.

He rolls me onto my stomach.

Yanks my hips up.

And slides in from behind without warning.

I gasp. Loud. My forehead pressed to the sheets, the stretch making my eyes roll back.

His hands grip my hips like he’s claiming something.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, thrusting slow and deep. “You’re so fucking wet already.”

He pulls out almost all the way, then slams back in, making the bed frame creak. I cry out, clutching the blanket beneath me, body jerking with every sharp snap of his hips.

“You like this?” he pants. “Getting fucked like a good girl?”

I moan something that sounds like yes. Or maybe his name. Or maybe,Trip.

It slips out of my throat like a breath. Half a syllable. Barely audible.

But I hear it.

And it isn’t Patrick’s name.

It’s the one I’ve beentryingnot to think about for a week. The one I’ve muted on Snapchat so I don’t send anything risky while I’m high. The one I think about when I come alone in the dark with headphones in, replaying his videos like prayers.

My whole body tenses.

Patrick didn’t hear it, or didn’t acknowledge it; he’s too far gone.

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