“Then pretend you are,” I whispered. “Pretend you’re going to knock me up and we’re going to do this every day.”

I tossed the wrapper, and reaching into his pants, fisting his cock as a shock coursed up my arm. He groaned at my touch and helped pull down his pants enough for me to pull him out.

God, he felt so good, and my head swarmed as I looked down at his hard muscle and stroked the soft skin.

“You’re going to have me tomorrow.” I rolled the rubber on, trailing kisses across his abs. “After school in your truck. Against the stacks in the library at lunch. Reverse cowgirl in your lap at the movie theater.”

He fisted my hair at the back of my head, his cock steel-rod straight and reaching right for me.

“My sweet, little secret,” he murmured.

He breathed hard and pushed me back onto the seat, looking down into my eyes as he reached between us to guide himself.

The thick head of his dick crowned my entrance, pushing inside just barely, and I shifted uncomfortably. “Will…”

“You’ll be mine,” he whispered, pressing himself deeper and deeper.

I groaned, stretching for him.

“You can ignore me. You can run,” he said, grunting and tipping his head back as he closed his eyes. “You can leave. You can hide…”

He slid in, burying himself to the hilt and filling me so wide and deep that I cried out just once.

“But you’re going to be fucking mine someday,” he growled. “Come hell or high water, Emory Scott. You’re my woman, and you’re going to come home to me every day and sit at my table and warm my fucking bed.” He kissed me. “And you’re going to give me a Will Grayson IV. Mark my words.”

I whimpered, shifting under him and adjusting as he withdrew and sank back in faster and harder this time.

“Oh, God,” I moaned, the skin of my already sweaty back peeling off the seat as I arched it.

He gripped my neck again, propping himself up with the other hand as he stared down at me and entered me over and over.

I gripped his shoulders, the discomfort subsiding as the pleasure of stretching for him started to feel good.

So good.

“You’re gonna want it,” he promised, squeezing my neck. “You’re gonna beg for me and love me so much you can’t stand it.”

He picked up the pace, my breasts bobbing back and forth as he went harder, and my eyes rolled into the back of my head, his cock sliding in and out easily because I was so wet.

I spread my legs as wide as they would go, reveling in how deep he went. Yes, God, please.

“More,” I begged. “Harder, Will.”

I held on to him, and he groaned, sucking in air as he rolled his hips into me and fucked me.

God, I…

Sweat seeped out of my pores, and I opened my eyes, gazing up at his beautiful face and the sheen on his chest, all for me.

Reaching behind him, I slipped my hands inside his trousers, digging my nails into his ass and helping him come faster and harder.

You’re gonna want it.

I already do.

You’re gonna beg for me and love me so much you can’t stand it.

I…

“Will, I…” I gasped, feeling my orgasm crest and holding him as close as I could, but it was never enough. “Will, I...”

“Will, what?” he pressed.

But I squeezed my eyes shut, his head deep inside me hitting my spot over and over, and I cried out as the orgasm flooded me, the world spun around me, and my body wracked with euphoria and shivers.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck…

Oh, My God. I…

I crashed back onto the seat, and he wiped the hair off my wet face, thrusting into me again and again.

“What?” he asked again, wanting to know what I was going to say.

But I opened my eyes, unable to remember what it was.

I took his mouth with mine and hugged him close as he rode out his own orgasm, as tears hung at the corners of my eyes.

He wanted to give me a piece of him I’d never escape, but he had a part of me I’d never get back.

This would never be as good with anyone else. I was fucked, and he’d already had his revenge.

Emory

Present

Three knocks hit the door, and I popped my head up, slamming the drawer closed in my bedroom.

I’d already been awake for twenty minutes, scouring the closet and drawers, but there were no clothes in here. And the temperature outside was dropping by the day.

Walking to the door, I leaned my ear in. “Who is it?”

The sun was just rising, although the clouds were brewing a storm. I thought I was the only one up this early.

“It’s Rory.”

My heart stopped for a second, and I straightened, staring at the handle.

What did he want?

“Thought you needed a new shirt,” he called out. “And maybe some pants.”

I glanced down at the boxer shorts and button-down I was swimming in, because Will had ripped all the buttons off of my other shirt last night. I still had pants, but I shouldn’t turn down clothes. They were what I was on the hunt for right now, after all.

I hesitated a moment and then pulled the chair away from the door and opened it. Rory stood there—a towel wrapped around his waist and hair disheveled with a stack of clothes in his fist.

He stared at me, unblinking, and heat coursed under my skin, remembering last night and what went down in the drawing room. I’d been so angry after Will left, I’d thrown a vase, fixed my clothes, and stormed out of there, more aggravated that I wanted to go ask him to finish, and I almost did. Being with him was just as good as that night on the bus, and it took every last drop of pride to drag my ass into a cold shower before I stooped to begging him for sex.

God, how I would’ve loved to never be reminded of how good he felt.

I snatched the clothes from Rory.

“Cut them if you want,” he told me, gesturing to the black pants. “They’re probably too long for you.”

“Thanks.”

I stood there, forcing myself to make eye contact, and he made no move to leave as he watched me.

The silence stretched between us.

“I’m going to head into the steam room for a bit, and then Micah and I are going hunting today,” he said, clearing his throat. “We might take Will. I suggest you come with us or stay in here with the door secured.”

It would only be Aydin and Taylor in the house with me? Not ideal, but with less eyes, I could explore.

And siphon supplies, maybe.

“I’ll stay,” I replied. “How long will you be gone?”

“Hours.” He looked me up and down. “If you need food, get it now.”

I nodded, and he just kept standing there. His pale eyes had this midnight blue circle around the pupil that made his stare pierce and made the hair on my arms rise.

I swallowed. “So, are you… like a…like a serial killer, then?”

He grinned. “Are you afraid?”

“Are you going to tell me I shouldn’t be?”

He shook his head. “No.”

He walked away without elaborating, and I watched him for a moment before diving back into my room and shutting the door, securing the chair underneath the knob again.