“You think I’m angry about the interior of my car?” he asks. I shrug. “It’s the only reason I can come up with.” “What about the fact that I don’t want you to experience pain in any capacity unless it’s the pain of my cock driving into your cunt? What about the idea that you’re hurt because you’re so fucking scared of me that you don’t realize I would kill someone to keep you safe? Fuck my car. I want your blood on it, my cock, and anywhere else that’d mark me as yours.”
