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“But Seph gets treated with respect. God only knows where your shoes have been. And she stays clean.” “Seph?” She asked. “Persephone,” I said and motioned to the car. “Seph.”
“If you do anything to hurt her back here, it won’t end well for you,” I said and pointed a finger in Trista’s face. “What? Who? Hurt who?” “Seph.” “The fucking car?”
“If you don’t want this to happen, I need you to say something now. This is the only chance I’m going to give you to tell me to stop before I fuck you right into tears. And you can think about it for a second before you decide. You probably should.”
“I’ve never been gentle with you, Fancy Face, and I don’t intend to start now. This won’t be slow and easy. I want your screams. I want you to break your fingernails on my skin. I want the fucking air in your lungs.”
I wanted to fucking stab her, and I wanted to kiss her. What a strange way to feel about someone.
“You’re going to want to hold onto that headboard, baby.”
“Men are confusing,” she said. “Hardly. Don’t touch my fucking car if it’s malicious in nature and don’t fuck me unless it’s malicious in nature. It’s pretty simple, really.”
Hate and love both hold hands with passion. They both make people do equally crazy things and the line between them disappears while you think you’re staring right at it.”
“A soulmate doesn’t just happen by chance,” she said. “It’s not somebody you just stumble across. Soulmates are made. I think you decide that you want somebody. You have to keep choosing that somebody every second of every day. You have to decide that they’re worth all the shitty days, that you’d miss the sound of their snoring more than you’d ever want the quiet nights back, that their broken pieces can fit together with your own so you both have a little better chance at being whole.”
“That wasn’t a request,” he whispered. “You can get on your knees on your own, or I can put you on them. Makes no difference to me.”
“Only good girls get called good girl,” he said. “Bad girls end up in my handcuffs. They choke on my dick. Bad girls get fucked in every way imaginable until they beg me to stop. And then I fuck them a little harder.”
“If I hear any words that aren’t Jersey or please come from that mouth, I’ll fuck it until you black out this time, Fancy Face.”
God was real. Because I absolutely saw her when that orgasm ripped through my whole body. I felt that shit from every split end in my hair all the way to my toes.
“I’ll let that one slide because I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite as stunning as you are when you break for me.”
“Let it happen, baby,” I whispered. “Break for me. And shatter me with you.”
“Maybe I like the way you hurt me,” I said. “Persephone is a bitch. And I hate you.” I think I actually watched his pupils dilate at my words. “Do you? I can’t help but wonder why I can’t hate you the way that I want?” He asked. “I think maybe it’s because fighting with you is like screaming into a fucking mirror.”
“You wouldn’t believe how fucking perfect you look when you break for me. So easily. So completely. Your body just does everything I want it to.” “Just fuck me, you egotistical shithead,” she said and pushed against my head harder when she smiled.
“What’s wrong, Jersey?” She asked. “You don’t want to find out what it’s like to break for me, too?”
“You seriously think I want to have sex with you tonight after you tied me to a chair and left me in a building with three lunatics?” She asked, still smiling against my mouth. “For fuck’s sake. I let one person stab you one time,” I said and rolled my eyes. “I think it’s time to grow up and let it go.”
The way that he laughed made me feel like I’d just spent the last half hour on the business end of a bong.
