Page 142 of Frozen Hearts
“It meant nothing,” he snarls venomously. “Youmean nothing.”
The cracks in his voice betray his strain, and his hand trembles with the weight of his feelings, all of it becoming too much for him to bear.
The problem is, I have no idea how to reach Grayson.IfI’m even the person who should. I’m partially responsible for breaking him, and I want to be the one to offer solace, to fix what I broke, but I’m as adrift as he is, and I haven’t the first clue how to bridge the expansive divide between us. I’m no more capable of offering him a lifeline than I am of saving myself.
Perhaps we’re destined to drown together. Suffocate in one another. Asphyxiate in the tangled web of the hurt we’ve inflicted.
He rips my sweats and panties down my legs, and they hit the floor as he wedges himself between my thighs. He uses his spare hand to push my legs wider, baring me to him as he stares down at my most intimate part.
“Thismeans nothing,” he hisses, shoving his sweats down before fisting himself in his hand. He glowers at my pussy like it personally offended him. “A hole to be filled. A warm body to come in.”
He slams all the way into me with a harsh, brutal thrust that has me crying out. I’m momentarily blinded by the pain of his intrusion as he fucks me relentlessly. With each hard stroke, he imbues me with his hostility until I swear I can feel everything he does.
It’s crushing, the weight of it all.
“You seem to have forgotten that’s what you’re here for,” he grunts between thrusts, his fingers flexing on my neck to remind me who’s in charge. “Our sex slave. Our doll. To use and fill and discard however we please.”
His strokes become savage, pain clashing with pleasure.
“Confess,” he demands in a strained growl.
Unable to find my voice, I shake my head instead.
My refusal causes the dark shadows in his eyes to expand as his grip on my throat turns bruising. My pulse hammers against his hand as the precariousness of the situation causes the fine hairs along my arms to rise.
Pulling back, he slams in, his hips smashing against mine. I whimper at the bite of pain, wincing as he continues his relentlessly ferocious pace.
“I’m not going to stop until you submit to me,” he snarls. Removing his hand from my throat, he yanks on my hair, pulling my head back and exposing my neck.
His other hand wraps around the neckline of my T-shirt, tugging on it until the fabric gives and aripreverberates through the air before the material slides down my arm, exposing my shoulder and breast.
Lowering his face, he wraps his lips around my nipple, sucking it into his mouth before biting down—hard. “Ouch!” I cry, lifting a hand to push him away. Instead, he captures it in his, ensnaring my other one before yanking both above my head.
Chuckling darkly, he trails his lips over the swell of my breast. “Aww, did the dirty little sex slave not like that?”
“Grayson,” I snap, reaching my limit. It’s not about me not liking it. I’ve come to learn that Idoenjoy this rough, primal side to him. I like watching him unravel; I like being the cause, but this feels like…more.There’s a tension building between us, and it’s not the good kind. It’s the type that speaks of destruction. Of ultimate ruination. “Stop this.”
His gaze snaps to mine. “Only when you admit what you did.”
“I can’t!” I yell, exasperated.
Running his tongue up to my collarbone, he tilts his head as he buries his face in the crook of my neck before a sharp sting triggers my pain receptors, and I scream. “What the fuck, Grayson?”
I fight against his hold, the juncture between my neck and shoulder throbbing as he laps at the bite before lifting his head and grinning at me like a predator about to go in for the kill.
His lips are smeared red.
Blood.
His lips are smeared withmyfucking blood.
It hits me then: there’s no potential breakthrough for him here. Grayson isn’t cracking open and on the verge of acome-to-Jesusmoment. He’s devolving. Spiraling out of control. Descending deeper into the fucking madness in his head, and I refuse to be a part of that. “Grayson,” I growl in warning. “Get off me.”
His chest vibrates against mine as he chuckles. “But the fun is only getting started.”
I arch against him in an attempt to buck him off, but he’s far heavier than I am and has the advantage of gravity and the fact his feet are on solid ground while mine can barely get leverage on the edge of the counter.
The move only seems to seat him deeper inside me, and I may as well be a fly banging its head against the wall for all the good it does as he continues to stare menacingly down at me.
