“You don’t even have two minutes. If you take longer than that, we’re over, regardless if you stay.”
“Cecelia—”
“No!”
He crushes me with his chest, trying to exert his will into me, his heart pounding erratically beneath my shoulder blade as his arm snakes around my stomach, and he unfastens my jeans before ripping them down my legs.
“Stop it!” I yell as he pulls my sneakers and socks off. I buck against him as he easily pins me back to the door with one hand.
He grips my shirt, and I cross my arms.
“Stop it! You aren’t getting me fucking naked right now!”
He slams his fist into the door, the frame rattling.
“You promised me, Cecelia!”
“And you promised me!”
“Don’t you get it? I can steal your time, your attention, and even your body, but I can’t take what I came back for!”
“That’s right, and you’re not getting it. Not if you do this to me again! You walk out of this door—there’s no coming back.”
He lets out a guttural roar and flips me in his arms, ripping my shirt from me as I claw at his shoulders in an attempt to push him away.
“Stop it, King! What the fuck are you doing?”
Undeterred, his patience evaporated, he strips me, yanking down my bra and panties until I’m completely bare.
“You don’t get to do this and get any part of me.” I go to move around him, and he lifts me easily as I scratch and claw at him until he deposits me next to the couch. He jerks me by the arm to face the back of it before hooking both my arms behind me with one of his. Struggling beneath him, I buck as he keeps me hostage and completely at his mercy.
“You fucking monster!”
His voice is even when he speaks. “Only when I have to be, and for you, I will be.”
I jerk against him, my struggle futile as he keeps me immobilized by his strength. Anger like I’ve never known courses through me at his betrayal.
“You’re going to pull this bullshit, then you fucking face me, you coward!”
“Why bother? You hate me for who I am.”
“I hate you for what you hide!”
“I’m not hiding now.” He leans down, folding his body over mine, and whispers in my ear as furious tears cloud my vision. His voice is filled with venom when he speaks.
“This rage you’re feeling, the helplessness you feel right now, the fear of not knowing what’s coming, feeling exposed in a way that fucking humiliates and infuriates you, leaving you powerless,” he grunts out, each word more pained in delivery, “is exactly what I feel every time you’re threatened, and I don’t know by what or who, and yet you refuse my fucking protection.”
His words settle in just as he releases me, and I whirl and slap his chest, his face, his neck, unleashing hell. He takes every blow without so much as flinching, his eyes blazing with rage while I exhaust myself. His words barely register as my fight weakens, the desperation seeping into his eyes zaps some of my rage as I slam my palms against his heaving chest. He looks like he’s on the verge of explosion. “I just wanted you to know what your win feels like for me,” he swallows, rage controlling his voice while his eyes shine with defeat. “You win, Cecelia, I’m letting you fucking win, and I don’t know what that means.”
“I hate you,” I croak, all strength leaving me, my eyes overflowing with anger.
“For every single thing I’ve done or will ever do to you, I have a reason. And I’m sorry if they’re not good enough, but I don’t give a fuck as long as your heart keeps beating, and there’s a chance you will forgive me for making sure it does.” His voice cracks with every word. “But if you take this away from me, I have nothing. You leave me with nothing.”