not to approach. I think I’ve done the wrong thing and then he says in a harsh voice, “We will deal with this.”
“But how?”
I look at him in fear because, how can we? Can the Reapers really take on this war for us? I doubt it. Why would they?
Then Maverick changes again and comes and kneels before me, taking my hand in his and raising it to his lips.
His breath sears my skin and brands me his and as I look up, he growls and fists my hair and pulls me toward him. There’s a frantic energy that drives us as we crash together like a ship on rocks. He tears at my clothes and I do the same to him because the only thing we want is to be naked. This is frantic, dirty love and is built on trust because anyone looking in right now would call the cops. The lamp goes flying as we crash into the table and the rug burns my skin as I scrape against it as he pushes me down and thrusts inside. I claw his back and fist his hair and swear I draw blood because his roar should scare me, but it drives me harder. He pushes inside me like a dirty beast and I love every minute of it. I just bared my soul to him and it wasn’t enough. He wants all of me and I’m happy to invite him in. He owns me because I have been stripped bare in every way as he takes from me what no one has ever had.
Maverick claims me like a caveman and I love every minute of it. I scream his name as he pushes in harder, faster, deeper. He holds me down and the delicate skin on my arms puckers under his touch, but I don’t care. I want him, all of him, and this is exactly what I’m getting. Dirty, rough sex, but so much more. It’s a union of lost souls and as I clench his cock, he groans, “Come for me, baby because I can’t hold on.”
As I cum all over his cock, I scream his name and with a roar, he pulls out and coats my breasts with every last delicious sticky drop of his release.
Then he wraps me in his arms and holds me tight and I feel his heart beating fast as our sweat glues us together. He holds me so tenderly but with an ownership that wraps me in protection and then he says huskily, “Pack your bags.”
I pull away and feel the fear return. He’s sending me away. How did I get this so wrong? He’s sending me home to face this because there can be no other explanation.
Abruptly he pulls away and stands, walking around the room like an angry god in his naked glory. I feel so betrayed as he turns away and says in an emotionless voice. “I said go and pack your bags.”
“But?”
I want to ask so many questions but he has shut down before my eyes. I trusted him and he is turning his back on me.
I don’t know what to say and gather my clothes, feeling used, dirty and filthy. Did he mean to make me feel like a cheap whore? Is this because he has some grudge against the mafia? I don’t do mafia, he said. Well, he just did and now I’m left out in the cold while he turns his back on me.
With a sob, I gather my clothes and run. I want to keep on running because how can I just pack my bags and leave? He can’t make me, surely?
So, I run to my room and lock the door behind me. This can’t be happening. What did happen? I thought we were on the same page, but the minute that name left my lips, he changed. What is he hiding?
I scrub every inch of my body in the shower and it still won’t remove the memory of his touch. I wash my hair and scrub my nails that raked his skin not thirty minutes ago. As I dress in the clothes I came in, I stare at myself in the mirror. Sophia Moretti, bitch from hell. Maybe I need to draw on that now because Maverick has betrayed me, I thought he was different.
A gentle knock on the door takes me by surprise and as I open it, I’m amazed to see Ashton looking at me sympathetically.
“I’m sorry, honey.”
“Why, what’s happening?”
She