Page 124 of Fixation
And he just ruts harder and faster, claiming me. Taking what isn’t his.
“Good girl. Gonna come in your tight little cunt.” He swipes his tongue along my swollen lips. Tastes my used, ruined panties. “You’re going to take every drop. You’ll let it run down your thighs when you go to bed tonight. You’ll think of me. Fucking dream of me. Our future children and me.”
His merciless way of fucking me heightens every sensation.
My need for him is all-consuming. It explodes out of me in the shape of violence.
Hands on his shoulders, my nails sink into him. I hurt him through his hoodie as I lose myself in him.
The pain I inflict only turns him on more. He parts his lips, sinks his teeth into my gag, and steals it from my mouth. Takes my panties in his palm, never letting go when he moves to grab my hip, pressing them to my skin.
Anderson looks like a wild animal. Out of control, slamming into me. Kissing me.
Devouring me.
I’ve never felt this cherished. Desired. Needed.
The most brutal stroke happens when he comes. His cum spills into me, so much of it that it trickles down my thighs. My obsessive stalker groans into my mouth, and my body leans into him.
He makes it hard to hate him. Hard to let go, even when he sets me down on the ground. Even when he pries my hands off him and helps me back into my clothes.
My jaw drops when Anderson stuffs my panties into his pocket after arranging his jeans.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, almost to himself, his eyes glazing over me. Burning me through my rumpled clothes. As if he can’t help himself, he cups my cheeks in his large palms, tipping my head up. My silly heart trips over itself. “Beautiful.”
My emotions are too complicated to put into words, but I have to know— “What are we doing?”
“Whatever I decide we do.” Another wave of heat and longing and terror claims me when Anderson lowers his lips to mine. “You have to be more careful, Harper. Or I’ll have to restrain you to your hospital bed again. I won’t have my patient running around at night. Risking herself. It’d be irresponsible of me.”
“Oh my God.” My head pounds with confusion. “What the fuck, Anderson?”
In a complete one-eighty, he reaches for the floor. His bag is there, which, of course, I didn’t notice.
I noticed him.
Anderson is a whirlwind. A black hole that sucks out everything else, leaving only him.
He’s back to standing, to towering over me, pinning me in place. One hand on my throat, his grip possessive.
With the other one, he reaches for his phone.
His. Phone.
“Seriously?” His obsession with me keeps me on high alert throughout the day. And though he scares me, I’ve grown used to him. Attached. I loathe the idea of him splitting his attention between me and someone else. “You’re on your phone? Now?”
“Be quiet, kitten.”
I do as he says. Whatever upsets Anderson has to be terrible. It scares me down to my core.
His eyes are on his phone, his face illuminated by the pale glow of the screen.
When he’s back to staring at me, the feeling of being neglected disintegrates into nothing.
I’m the center of his world again. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
“Why?”
“Say you’ll stay.” His gaze warns me this isn’t a game. He’s serious.
