Page 84 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part Two
“I know,” he replies. “Milk my dick, Shae.”
And even though my brain hates him—hates his control over me—my body doesn’t, so I come as he commands.
I come so hard, so violently, that stars bloom behind the darkness of my closed eyelids. I moan, the sound coming from deep within my chest as I climax harder than I have in a long time.
Probably in as long as it’s been since we last didthis.
“That’s it,” he croons, bringing his hand to my clit and rubbing in firm circles to prolong my peak. “That’s a good girl, coming so prettily for me.”
I want to punch him, but my senses are overrun.
“God, I hate you,” I drawl, feeling drunk.
He chuckles, the sound vibrating in my chest, and he picks up speed. He doesn’t just chase his release. He keeps his eyes open, fixed on mine, and lets me see everything in his gaze.
It’s beautiful to witness. The way his whole body tenses, how his face morphs the moment he tips over into max pleasure as his cum floods the condom.
The condom a sick, stupid, idiotic part of me wishes he weren’t wearing.
He groans as his strokes slow to a stop, then, when he delivers his last slide, he holds himself within me, saying nothing.
What is there to say? The only words I can think of are, “This is a really fucking bad idea.”
“I can promise you one thing, Shae.” He pauses, opens his eyes slowly to stare off above my head before looking down at me. “Every wrong will be righted.”
The look he gives me is so possessed, terror edges out every single emotion in my body.
“Get off me.” I press on his chest with all my might, and he still takes his time sliding his spent dick from my body.
Once I’m free of him, regret and an overwhelming sense ofWhat-the-actual-fuck-did-I-just-do?sends alarm bells clanging between my ears.
“That… That won’t happen again,” I state, scrambling to rearrange my limbs to sit with my heels to the floor.
Storm laughs again, just a small release of sound. He grants me the mercy of a small amount of privacy when he goes to the bathroom, presumably to remove the used condom.
In the time he’s gone, I stand, remove the shreds of underwear hanging uselessly around my waist, and toss them into the garbage.
Just when I’m about to bolt from the suite and run to mine, skirting the broken glass, he exits the bathroom. My hand clutches the door lever leading to freedom.
“Shae.” He says my name with an emotion I’m unable to name. It’s not quite tenderness, but it’s not outright hostility either. I half-turn to face him.
But then the words he says make me want to hurl all over the expensive Parisian flooring.
“This is the last night I sleep away from my kids.”
My mouth drops open, spinning through his statement and trying to make sense of the words.
“What do you… What does that mean?” I reply, terror causing my throat to close up.
Don’t hyperventilate.
Storm smiles like he’s just won the lottery, strolling toward me, completely uncaring about the glass on the ground, until we’re face to face again.
“It means whatever you think it means, Sweetness,” he replies, his voice barely a whisper.
He places his hand over mine and depresses the handle. With the door open, I take a step outside, but stop short when I notice there’s another guard waiting for me near the open elevator.
“Storm, let’s be rea?—”
