Page 57 of Wicked Scorn
“I can’t do this anymore,” I say, forcing the words out. “Us. The lessons, I mean.” I wave my hand between us, frustration bubbling up. My eyes meet his, searching for any sign of understanding, any hint that he’s not about to hate me for what I’m saying. All I find is amusement like he knows I’d never be able to walk away from him.
“Bunny,” he replies, his voice tinged with a note of sarcasm. “What exactly do you want to stop?”
I bite my lip, resisting the urge to snap back at him. This isn’t a joke, and I need him to understand that. “It’s just…it’s too hard to compartmentalize my feelings. It’s fake. You’re doing it to help me. I guess because you feel bad for—” I look away. “Never mind. But it doesn’t feel fake when we’re together, so I just think?—”
“Fake?” He raises an eyebrow, his tone incredulous, as if the very suggestion is an insult. “You think what we have between us is fake? When have I given you that impression and do you think I just call you mine for the fun of it? You fucking know better than that, Oakley.” His words create an echo chamber in my head as I watch him stand up from the chair he’s sitting in and take a step toward me.
“Yes. They’re lessons…not—” I admit, feeling my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. “It feels real for me, and I don’t want to end up feeling like I did when you left and?—”
I take a deep breath and pace a few steps.
“I’m not explaining myself clearly,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I appreciate you helping me get over my fear of being touched or being close to someone, but when you touch me, I want it to be because youwantto touch me. Notbecause you feel bad that someone hurt me. It’s all just too much for me.”
“Too much?” His voice drops, low and dangerous. Before I can react, he’s across the room, touching my arm and spinning me around to face him. His breath is hot against my cheek, and I feel his fingers burning an imprint into my skin even though they aren’t even gripping me.
“Baby, touching you is the only thing I think about all damn day,” he says, reaching out to touch my cheek, his fingertips grazing my skin with a tenderness that sends shivers down my spine, “You don’t ever need to worry about that. I struggle tostoptouching you. What you do need to worry about is walking away from me like earlier. I won’t have that, you need a fucking moment then you say so. You don’t get to just shut me the hell out.”
A shiver runs down my spine as I watch Jeremiah’s face, searching for any hint of emotion in his strong features. He remains silent, stoic, but I can’t help but feel like I’m caught in a trap. Jeremiah’s eyes flicker toward me, and for a moment, I think I see a flash of vulnerability before he quickly looks away. My heart clenches in my chest, a weird feeling of sorrow taking hold. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the next part of my confession. I just need him to let me go.
“You’ve helped me so much in overcoming my trauma,” I tell him softly, reaching out to gently place a hand on his arm. The warmth of his skin against mine calls to me, wants me to give in and feel his arms wrapped around me. “And I’m not afraid anymore.”
He finally meets my gaze, his eyes filled with a raw intensity that makes it hard to breathe. I can see the struggle behind them, the weight of his own emotions threatening toshatter his own walls. My heart lurches in my chest, and for a moment, I fear that I might have pushed him too far.
Suddenly, he rushes toward me with a fierceness I’ve never seen before. His eyes burn into mine, a fiery determination blazing through them. “You don’t understand,” he growls, his voice low and filled with pent-up frustration.
“Jeremiah,” I stammer, struggling to find the right words. My breath hitches in my throat as I take in the raw desperation etched across his face. It’s disconcerting to see him like this, stripped of his usual composure. But it also ignites something deep within me. Isn’t this what I always wanted? Am I not just trading once fear for another?
“Please,” I whisper, my voice shaking slightly, “you have to understand that I didn’t mean to imply that you were a liar.” I pause, searching his face for any sign of understanding. “I just…it’s been so hard for me to separate our lessons from what’s happening between us.”
“Look,” he says, running a hand over his head back and forth, clearly agitated. “If you don’t think this is real for me, you don’t know me at all. Every single thing I’ve said and done for and to you is real,” he says more softly, his voice losing its edge as he takes a step closer. “If you think I don’t care about you or that this is just some game for me, you’re wrong. This was never meant to be fake. I just said that fucking tit-for-tat shit, so you’d agree, and I didn’t have to lock you up like a caveman. It was always gonna be real—for both of us.”
I want to say something, but his expression softens ever so slightly as he studies my face. The air around us is thick with tension, as though we’re both holding our breath, waiting for the other to make a move. He grabs my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him. “I’ve never felt anything like thisbefore,” he says, his words laced with passion and possessiveness. “You’re mine. Every part of you belongs to me.”
A desperate urge to resist him wars with the undeniable pull I feel. I know I should be frightened by everything that comes with Jeremiah Blackwood.
“I’m trying to protect myself.” He just shakes his head at me before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
“Bunny,” he whispers hoarsely, his voice thick with need. “That’s not your job anymore, it’s mine. If we’re being honest, it always has been, and we just went on our own little side quests for a moment. You’re mine, and I need to show you that. I need you to hear it, to see it, to feel it and know it.”
His lips crash into mine with a force that steals my breath, something he does so frequently I should be dead. His kiss is rough, demanding, leaving no room for doubt. My body responds instantly, traitorously. I melt against him, our tongues clashing in a frenzied dance of need.
“You’re impossible,” I manage to gasp out when we break apart for air. His eyes bore into mine, dark and wild.
“And I’m done fucking talking about this with you,” he growls, his hands gripping my waist possessively as he lifts me up. I can tell he’s about to throw me over his shoulder like a freaking caveman again, so I lock my legs around his waist instead.
I can feel his grin stretched wide across his face on the skin of my neck as he cups my ass and walks us out of the study, taking the long hallway before we climb the staircase and reach his room. I can feel him peppering kisses on my pulse point and it makes me squirm, my center rubbing across his hard cock each time I do.
I jolt when he shifts me so he can lift one leg and kick the bedroom door closed behind us.
“Rem, I want you. I want to feel you. All of you. I’m ready, so show me what it means to be yours,” I breathe out. If he denies me right now, I might spontaneously combust.
“Yea baby, and just how bad do you want me? Bad enough to realize this is it? I’m telling you right now, Oakley, we do this, and you’ll never get another moment of peace. I will invade every bit of you, and you won’t even have one damn sliver of a chance to walk away. So, think very carefully before you decide.” He sets me down on the edge of his bed and I lean back on my arms, gazing up at him as I travel up his body and to his face. The damn pretty boy smirk firmly there and his eyes feel like they are burning my clothes away.
I tug my dress over my head, tossing it aside like it’s nothing. My fingers make quick work of my bra, and then I lay back down and shimmy out of my panties and toss them past him. He snatches them out of the air before bringing them up to his nose and inhaling deeply. I should be embarrassed, but even though I’m exposed, vulnerable, the hunger in his eyes tells me that he loves it.
“Isn’t this enough of my answer? I’m here, bare before you without hesitation,” I tell him, and he just scoffs.
“I want your words, Oakley Ashford. Drip each syllable from your lips like your cunt is going to drip honey down my cock,” he mutters, lowering his mouth to my chest as his arms bracket either side of my body. His lips close around a nipple, and I arch into him, a moan escaping my lips. He sucks harder, his teeth grazing sensitive skin, sending my core into spasms.
