Page 67 of Professional Consult
It takes me too long to get through my buckle, but I’m too fucking needy to concentrate. I yank down my pants, freeing my now hardened member.
Lexi regards me with sad eyes.
“If you don’t want—”
“I want this,” she rushes out. “I want to help you heal.”
It suddenly occurs to me that I have to make her hate me. So she can move on.
I haul her onto my lap, plunging my length into her as deep as it’ll go. Then I lift her, slamming her down again and again as my teeth maul her ear.
I snort with disdain. “Healing? You think that’s what this is about?”
“Why don’t you tell me what it’s about?” she challenges.
“Scratching a fucking itch,” I grind. “If you wanna be a dirty whore? I’ll make you one.”
She whimpers, her channel flexing around my cock as I thrust into her.
And I hate myself for it.
Her head falls back as her hips move to take me deeper.“Harder, yeah—just like that…”
She’s not supposed to like this. I want her to hate it, to hate me, but nothing I throw at her seems to work.
So I slam her down, again and again, hoping to make her feel used and not loved. I have to make her believe the lie.
But her excited cries tell me I’m failing.
“Why are you like this?” I snarl.
Her chest rises and falls in panicked gasps.
“Like what?”
“You just keep coming back.”
“Because I love you.”
It’s like a hard slap in the face.
I stop, letting her weight fall on my lap.
Love.
Why am I so surprised by this? She asked me to come to Hollywood with her, which means she has feelings.
I just didn’t understand how deep they went.
And now, when I’m at my worst, taking her like a damn animal, she professes her love.
“Lexi—I’m sorry,” I choke out.
“Stop being sorry. Just be here, with me, present. Stop getting caught up in your past.”
“I’m so damn lonely.”
“So am I.”
