When he grabs my wrist with one hand and flips me around against him, my back to his chest, he groans again, his arms wrapping around me in a hug, his fingers finding my throat. For a moment we stand like this, his heart beating hard against my back. My tears clog my throat as he presses against it with the pad of his fingers. When his open mouth falls against my shoulder, his lips and tongue rubbing against the bare skin there, something inside opens up to him. I open myself to him. “I hurt you,” he mutters. “Yes.” “But you hurt me too. You fucking hurt me too.”
