Page 27 of Freed By Wrath

Until strong arms wrap around my waist and the floor disappears beneath me.

A startled yelp tears from my throat as we crash down together, his body twisting at the last second so mine never touches the hardwood.

The impact knocks the air from his lungs while my body lands on top of him, one leg on either side of his hips.

Then fury floods back in.

“Let me go, you fucking—”

His hands reach my waist, and he presses my center against his still hard cock, and a shiver goes down my spine.

“What were you saying?” he asks.

The smugness in his voice snaps something inside me, and my fist slams into his chest before I can think. Releasing something I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding onto.

Before I’m fully aware of it, I do it again.

And then again.

“That’s it.” His voice stays calm. “Hit me.”

So I do. And I don’t stop.

I punch his chest and scream. Every blow carrying something I’d been choking on for years. The dreams, the apologies, the effort, the pressure, the betrayal, and worst of all… everything I never got to be. To live. To… taste.

My fists keep falling against him, and he doesn’t avoid them. He never catches my wrists. Never tells me to calm down, never tells me to breathe.

He lets me burn in wrath, absorbing every stroke in silence while every feeling I’ve gulped for the last eight years finally finds somewhere to go.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, like he’s actually… enjoying it. “Get it all out, trouble.”

I hit him harder for that.

Again.

And again.

Then again.

Until the next punch lands with less force, and the following barely makes a sound.

I don’t know when the rage stopped living in my arms and settled low in my belly, hot and aching.

Somehow, it stops feeling like anger and starts to feel like… hunger.

Yet, he still takes it.

He doesn’t defend himself. Doesn’t even flinch.

I don’t know how long he lies there beneath me, letting me hate him, letting me want him, letting me rage, letting me… feel.

What I know is that at some point, I forget how to breathe.

How to think.

How to act.

So I just keep hitting him.