I obey because I want her to see how she owns me. I want her to understand that I would do anything, give anything, to make her safe and happy.
Her hand traces my spine, kneading lightly. I grip the wooden handrail that circles the deck and spread my legs at her urging.
Now, both of her hands are between my thighs, her breath hot and panting against my back. She’s pumping my cock with a firm, practiced grip. Harder than I’m used to from her. Demanding. Her other hand is massaging my sac, driving the urgency into me.
Her grip slickens as the pre-cum streams steadily from the slit at the tip of my dick. The salty air washes over me, cooling the sweat misting my skin.
“Eva …” I gasp her name, so hard for her, so desperately in love.
Her fingers, now creamy and always cleverly agile, slide back and tease the dark rosette of my anus. It feels good, even though I don’t want it to. The stroking of my penis is making it hard to breathe, to think, to fight …
“That’s it,” she coaxes.
I try to arch away, but she’s got me trapped with my dick in her hand.
“Don’t,” I tell her, squirming.
“You like it,” she purrs, working my cock, her touch something I crave and can’t resist. “Show me how much you want me.”
She pushes two slick fingers inside my ass. I cry out, writhing away, but she’s rubbing and thrusting into me, hitting the spot that makes me want to come more than anything. The pleasure grows despite the tears burning my eyes.
My head falls forward. My chin touches my heaving chest. It’s coming. I’m coming. I can’t stop it. Not with her …
The fingers inside me thicken, lengthen. The thrusting becomes frenzied, the slap of flesh against flesh drowning out the sounds of the ocean. I hear a rough, lusty growl but it’s not mine. A cock is in me, fucking me. It hurts and yet the pain is tinged with a sick, unwanted pleasure.
“Keep stroking it,” he pants. “You’re almost there.”
Agony explodes in my chest. Eva isn’t here. She’s gone. She’s left me.
Vomit rises into my throat. I throw him off violently, hearing him crash through the sliding door behind us, the glass shattering. Hugh laughs hysterically and I round on him, finding him sprawled amid the glistening slivers, his hair as red as his blood, his eyes lit with that vile lustful avarice.
“You think she’d want you?” he taunts, clambering to his feet. “You told her everything. Who’d want you after that?”
“Fuck you!” I lunge and tackle him back down. My fist pounds into his face again and again.
The shards of glass pierce me, cut into me, but the pain is nothing next to what I feel inside.
Eva is gone. I’d known she would leave, that I couldn’t keep her. I’d known it, but I had hoped. I couldn’t fight the hope.
Hugh won’t stop laughing. I feel his nose shatter. His cheekbone, his jaw. His laughter turns to gurgles, but it’s still laughter.
My arm pulls back to hit him again—
Anne is lying beneath me, her face battered nearly beyond recognition. Horrified at what I’ve done, I jerk away, scrambling to my feet. The glass digs deep into the soles of my feet.
Anne laughs as bubbling blood pours from her nose and mouth, spreading through the home that was once a sanctuary. Staining everything, the taint washing away the sun until only a blood moon remains …
I woke up with a scream in my throat. Sweat drenched my hair and skin. Darkness suffocated me.
Scrubbing at my eyes, I rolled onto my hands and knees, sobbing. I crawled toward the only light I could see, the weak silver glow that was my only guide.
The bedroom. God. I collapsed on the floor, racked by tears. I’d fallen asleep in the closet, unable to move after Eva left me, afraid to take one literal step in any direction toward a life without her in it.
The face of the clock glowed brightly in the darkened room.
It was one A.M.
A new day. And Eva was still gone.
“YOU’RE here early.”
Scott’s cheery voice lured my gaze from the photo of Eva on my desk.