Page 95 of The Games We Play

“Fuck. Fuck.” She squeezes her eyes shut as she grits between clenched teeth. “I hate him. I hate what he did to me.”

“I know, baby.” Her fingers tighten in my hair even more, the sting piercing my skull.

“I hated you, too. I hated you for all this time.” Her hand moves to my throat and she squeezes her fingers against the sensitive flesh.

“And I’ve loved you every day since.” I lift my chin, giving her full access to my throat. I push forward, giving her permission to take what she needs.

She presses her weight into me as her fingers tighten around the column of my throat, stealing my breath. My face flushes with heat, reddening with each second. I try to suck in air, but her fingers grasp harder around my neck.

“Harder, Mimi,” I manage to gasp out, and the rage in her eyes explodes, pressing even more weight into me as my back pushes against the headboard.

My eyes widen as pressure builds and my balls tighten. My cock is throbbing and I realize it’s too late to stop my orgasm.

Keeping my grip tight around her waist, I pull her down harder on my cock as I push my hips up. I thrust in and out, the friction is so goddamn unbelievably perfect.

“You were made for me,” I manage to spit out. As inaudible as it sounded, I know she heard me.

She screws up her face and lets out a long moan. “Oh, God, I’m coming.”

My orgasm hits me at the same time and I groan out muffled profanities as she rides my cock, robbing the air from my lungs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I chant, unable to hold anything back. When she finally releases the kung-fu grip she has on my throat, I suck in a commanding breath.

Never would I have ever thought that would be something I would enjoy, but here I am, reeling after the most intense orgasm of my life. I have no idea if it was her anger, her passion, or the fact that she literally took my breath away, but I’m more than willing to try it at any point again.

She’s still on top of me and I’m glad she’s in no rush to move, because I could stay here forever.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers into my neck, kissing the column where her fingers were tightest.

I sit up and force her to look at me. Her cheeks are flushed and there is a distinct look of satisfaction blanketing her. She covers her face with her palms and giggles.

“I don’t think you’re really sorry,” I reply, smiling back at her contagious happiness.

“I think I just found my new version of therapy.”

“I’ll give you whatever you need, sunshine.”

“Really?” she questions with both her tone and the look in her gorgeous, satiated eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“The only way you could hurt me is if you left me. That would probably kill me this time.” I gaze deeper into her eyes, making sure she knows how serious I am. “Plus, you’re like five foot nothing and a hundred pounds soaking wet. You couldn’t physically hurt me if you tried,” I playfully reply with a smile.

And then she slaps my chest. Hard.

“Ouch.” I flinch.

“Oh, did that hurt?” Her snarky response has me smiling from ear to ear.

“You should do that more often.” She tips her chin at mine, noting my lovesick grin.

I will, now that you’re mine.

She glances down then around the room, pulling us back into the reality that we’re living in. I’m dead set on revenge, but more than anything, I want her to get whatever closure she needs. If that means my Plan B doesn’t happen, then it doesn’t happen.

“I need to face him. Iwantto face him. I don’t want to tell my story to fifty strangers who don’t give a shit about what happened to me. I want to talk to him directly, before the hearing.” She turns back to face me and her eyes are pleading.

I know the prison will allow for visitors, and I’m certain we can make that happen under the guise of another name to get him to come out and talk to her, but fuck, that makes me really uncomfortable.

Her in the same room with him, face to face. I don’t know that I could handle her doing that by herself. I’d have to go, but I couldn’t sit with them.

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