Page 32 of Dangerous Promises

I can feel her getting tighter and wetter around my fingers, she's going to come, but I don't want this to stop. She grips onto my shoulders and I feel it as her pussy convulses. She cries out, but right now I'm too drunk on whatever this is to care who can hear us.

"Don't stop coming," I tell her, not slowing down even as she spasms around me. I keep going until I can feel her second orgasm building. Even as she fights me like she doesn't believe this is something that can happen. Her cries get louder the closer she gets, and I can feel she's about to lose herself over me again.

It's not long before she gasps, melting against my hand again. She's so wet and ready. Primed for me. Impulse takes over me and I can't stop it. I hold her up and reach for my zipper. I want to fuck her so badly. I need to get my pants undone so I can have her, take her, make her mine in the way she always has been.

Then she opens her eyes.

And I freeze.

The look in them cuts me to my core.

Disgust.

The warmth rushes away from me as I remember where we are. Who we are. Enemies stuck together in an endless spiral of grief. We hate each other. Only one of us will make it out of this alive.

My breath starts to slow as I take in what we just did. What we were about to do. Shame sinks over me and guilt follows it inside.

I take a step back from her.

What was I thinking? I fucking hate this woman.

I need to take back control, because I feel like I'm losing it.

Her lip curls at me, and I compose myself.

The urge to show her what she really means to me takes over. She can't know what was going through my head. That I allowed her to weaken me in this way. I shove away from her and leave her to sink against the wall in horror. Though it may not have been running through my mind at the time, I can at least leave this room satisfied that I have damaged her in some way. I've destroyed part of her today. Not her body, but certainly her mind.

She looks up at me in despair and I bare my teeth. Cutting her down in the way she cuts me. Turns out we don't need knives to hurt each other anymore.

"Pathetic," I say, looking her up and down as I straighten my cuffs. She looks just as broken as I feel when I leave her behind and storm out of the room.

Chapter

Twelve

Sage

My face heats with shame. My skin goes sticky and warm as the indignity of what I've done sinks over me. It spirals deep down into my core just as my heart rate picks up and my breathing shallows.

Alexei Rushkoff's spit is still on my neck.

Still on my breasts.

He just had his fingers inside me.

I gag and wipe his spit off with my sleeve. I want to cry. Scream. Run away. Hurt someone.

I stand up on shaky legs, making sure my skirt is back down to cover my thighs. It can't cover up how much I hate myself for what just happened. Or how much I hate myself in general.

I look around the room, once again leaving as it ruins me. I stumble out, closing the door gently behind me and leaning up against it for support.

It's better out here. My heart slows down and a gentle breeze makes me feel a little less gross and sticky. From where I standhere I can hear the familiar laughter of Anton, Freddie and Isla. Reminding me of where I am and what I am amongst.

It's like the chatter of old friends. Is that exactly what we all were? Friends? Something unfamiliar to me but that was always there. Ripped away from us cruelly as so much else has been.

I hear the deep baritone of Alexei's voice as he rejoins them.

He just humiliated me and used me… called me pathetic after I melted all over him. Whichwaspathetic. Oh God. This is so fucking embarrassing. I'm supposed to hate him and kill him, and I crumbled in his palm like a fool.