cock has been inside so many cunts it has lost count?” I whimper, hating him more, wanting to fucking stab his heart over and over again, just to see if he even dies. There’s no way something beats beneath those ribs.
He smirks when I push at him.
“Hit a nerve?” he condescends, biting the inside of my thigh. I scream as he keeps sucking and biting back and forth in spite of our mutual hatred. “Sounds like my wife can’t keep her husband satisfied. Such a shame she has to share.”
“Fuck you,” I hiss.
“Plan to, Sous. Plan to fuck you so good that your toes curl, and you cry out with only my name on your tongue. Then when you’re begging me to stop because you’re shaking with satisfaction, I won’t. Because until I’m done marking every goddamn inch of your body so the entire fucking male population knows you’re mine, I won’t stop.”
“Toby,” I moan as he swirls his tongue across my goose bumps.
“The world must know this cunt is mine, even while it rents itself out. It’ll learn. It’ll know its home and beg for me to remind it.”
“Fuck,” I hiss as his teeth bite my folds.
“If bruises and bites don’t work, Sous, and if all else fails, when someone looks at your body, your cunt will tell them it’s mine. I’ll brand you here,” he growls, tracing the juncture between my thighs. “I’ll put my goddamn name here as a permanent fixture, so whenever you spread your thighs for someone, they’ll know they’re nothing.”
I bow into him as he licks that spot, showing me where he’ll place his name. I want that so much, for him to trace his tongue there, making sure he’s just as much mine as I am his. I’d do anything for him to stop fucking those other women. Anything.
“Fuck me,” I demand as his tongue teases everywhere but my clit. He makes me go through hell as he nibbles and dives into my hole.
“Bet Francis hasn’t come inside my pretty pussy, has he?” I groan at his words.
“What if he has?” I challenge, wanting more of his hate, letting it fill me to the brim. Just having his lust confuses me. If hate isn’t included, my heart betrays me and seeks him out. If I were upright, I’d be falling to my knees in worship, just to have something of his to fill me and make me whole again.
“He hasn’t,” he barks with a sureness that doesn’t make sense. “No one has but me. This is mine, isn’t it?” His hand cups me, gripping me as if it’ll make all his dreams come true.
“Say it, Sous. Tell me it’s mine.”
I glare at him, wanting him to feel even an ounce of the desperation he makes me feel every day. Shaking my head, I’m surprised when he thrusts three fingers in me with no warning.
“You’re saying this tight hot tunnel isn’t only for me? That it doesn’t know the master of its pleasure?” I shake my head again, biting my lip as the sensations zip up my spine. He’s wrecking me, absolutely destroying my control.
“You’re wrong, Sous. This cunt only gets wet for me, it only leaks in my mouth and hands. It only pleasures my cock.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” I nearly hiss, feeling him pull my barbell.
“Don’t worry. I’m about to show you.” As soon as the words have hit my ears, he’s grinding his mouth against my pussy, licking, biting, and rimming my ass. He grips my thighs, pulling me to the edge of the counter and dives even deeper. The pressure is too much, so ravenous and languid. He’s making me moan unabashedly.
He fucks me with hate.
I love him with the same.
Our bodies connect. The grunt he releases is like every other lie he offers. Fake. He hates me. He wants me. He can’t stand me. Lie after lie after lie after lie. I let him degrade me with them because, masochist or not, we all know I deserve it.
“You wilt under my fingertips like a dying flower, Sous. Just for me,” he breathes. “Just for me.”
Chapter Fifty
Present
Joey
“How do I love the hate out of you?”
He whispered it so low, I’m almost certain he didn’t mean for the words to escape him. I love so much about this man. His lips that are plush but not pillowy, his strong and sharp jaw that could slice glass, his eyes that are haunting while sad and darker than the starless sky when angry, and