Page 67 of Euphoria

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“Do you really believe that?” he asked.

“I believe because I am living it,” I replied. “I do the best I can, which is all anyone can ask of others and themselves. We are all human, and humans falter.”

He closed his eyes as his lips brushed against mine, but he didn’t take me. We were perched on the edge of a narrow path, and neither of us seemed to know which way we were going to fall.

“Will you let me have you as I will, Jane? Will you let me show you how my pain has twisted me?”

I trembled, my body picking up on the dangerous undercurrent in his voice. He was warning me with words that asked for my consent.

Finally, I nodded my acceptance. “If I am to move forward and decide if being with you like this is what I desire, then I must.”

Edward’s chest rose and fell with sharp breaths, and his nostrils flared as he warred with himself. His expression changed so many times I couldn’t keep up, and when I slacked in his grasp, he struck.

His mouth came down on mine hard, his lips bruising as his tongue dove into my mouth hot and wet. Everything about his touch was abrasive as he moved me across the room.

His fingers tugged at my jeans, undoing the button and lowering the zipper. Then he pushed them down, exposing me. There was no slowing his pace for pleasure or to rid me of any other clothing. He just let his base instincts take control, wanting to join with and to dominate my body, no matter the cost.

Turning me around, he forced my body across a table, and my face pressed against the cool surface with my rear open to him. I was completely helpless in this position. Every ounce of his strength was used against me, and I was at his mercy. I’d consented, so I remained silent, allowing him to take what he pleased from my body.

He was to show how his demon had twisted the very fabric of his being, and perhaps I was about to receive the answers to questions I longed to understand, or perhaps I was going to be torn so completely I’d never understand what drove him.

I couldn’t see, but I could hear just fine as he freed his manhood. I trembled under his touch as anticipation rose, and when his palm connected with my skin with a sharp crack, I cried out in surprise. Pain bloomed, and in my aroused state, I wasn’t sure if it hurt or if I wanted more. It was a curious sensation, and when he slapped me again, I moaned loudly, quivering against his crotch.

He entered me roughly, much more forcibly than before, and twisted a hand into my hair. My cheek pressed painfully into the hard surface of the table, and I couldn’t move as he thrust, his body setting a punishing pace. He took solace in my body, digging his hands into my scalp and slapping my exposed skin. When he was close to erupting, his hands closed around my neck and squeezed.

I began to panic as I felt my windpipe crushing, desperately gasping for air as he took pleasure in my struggle. He didn’t let me go until I felt his seed leave his body. Then his touch turned from pain to pleasure as he soothed the hurts he’d caused.

I didn’t find pleasure in it at all.

Leaving my body, he lifted me onto the table, my tender flesh aching as he positioned himself between my legs. We were still naked where it mattered the most, but I couldn’t take him again. I was too shocked, too hurt, and too proud to allow him. I pressed my palm against his chest and shook my head, ignoring the moment where his shoulders tensed.

“You have seen how deep my darkness runs,” he murmured. “What say you, Jane, now that you have been completely torn?”

My mouth opened uselessly, waiting for my mind to catch up. Finally, I managed a few words.

“Who did this to you?”

His brow furrowed, his eyes never changing from the blackness they’d turned into. He seemed at war with himself yet again, as if he were trying to decide which parts of his tale of woe to impart on me. No doubt, they’d be pieces that would give away the least amount of information while still placating me.

“And what gives you pause to ask me this, Jane Doe?”

“I can see the tenderness in you even while you wish to cause pain,” I said, my body threatening to crumble. “You lash out… During… Who—”

“Silence,” Edward growled and slapped his palm over my mouth, tugging me onto my trembling feet. “You speak of things you do not know.”

I twisted my face to the side, freeing my mouth. “Not for want of trying!”

Edward stared at me, his expression turning to stone. I wouldn’t let him run from this, not after what he’d done to my body. He’d shown me a great deal more than he realized, and I would use it to pry him apart.

“You wanted to take the life from me,” I whispered, my fingers touching my neck. “You do not think I understand what that feels like? My name was stripped from me as a child,” I went on, my gaze never lowering from his. “I have no ancestral home, no identity, and no story.”

“Your story is different from mine,” he mumbled.

“Perhaps, but I can see your desires come from a place—”

“Get out,” he hissed, pulling away from me.

I’d expected his dismissal after hearing my words. Sliding off the table, I winced as pain shot through my skin. Someone had caused him so much despair it had scarred his soul, and now he manifested it during a moment that should be precious and tender between two lovers. All his outward mechanisms—his gloom, annoyance, and changeful ways—were there to hide him from the world. He favored power and ire so others wouldn’t add to his hurts, but…he craved tenderness, and it could only be achieved by letting down his guard and casting off his mask.

The only honest piece of the man I’d seen tonight was the demon on his shoulder. The rest of his true self still lay hidden, and it caused my own heart to hurt. I wasn’t enough, but I couldn’t submit knowing I was kept at arm’s length. There were too many secrets to continue ignoring for the sake of pleasure.

I pulled my jeans back up and buttoned them in place, my hands trembling. I ached all over, and it wasn’t just my body, my heart throbbed just as much as the flesh he’d slapped and the life he’d choked from me.

No one—not even the enigmatical Edward Rochester—could heal without letting someone in.