C6, PT. 3

She closed her eyes as he positioned himself behind her. Even as a voice inside her screamed she should run, she stayed put as he kissed her ass. She heard a hiss as he undid his zipper, and then he was pushing inside her. She expected hard, brutal, but Roth was in no hurry. He blanketed her body with his, hands slipping from hip to neck before going to her breast and kneading through the hoodie. He gripped and released to suffuse her with more unwanted heat.

“People are going to hurt you. I’m going to hurt you. But you aren’t allowed to punish yourself because of it. You understand me?”

She nodded.

“Promise me.”

She clenched her teeth as he pushed in to the hilt. “I promise.”

“I’m not worth it. No one is. You got me?”

She nodded again and tilted her head to give him more access to her neck. The sound of their bodies and hitched breaths were amplified in the small space as they inched toward nirvana. He had never demonstrated such patience or gentleness. She sensed the reverence and adoration in the way he decorated her throat, in the way he held her to him almost desperately as he tried to prolong the harmony that existed between their bodies. But she didn’t know if she could trust it or her instincts, which had been wrong so many times before.

To disrupt the connection before he reached her soul, she reached down to rub her clit, focusing on herself instead of him. But he wouldn’t be ignored. He brushed her hand aside and took over the job and, truth be told, he was better at it than she was. Within a minute, her breathing had quickened, and she was moving urgently. She let out a loud moan and lifted her head to look at their reflection and caught his molten gaze.

When he surged to his feet, she sat up, bemused, and gave a muffled shout when he pulled her hoodie over her head. He yanked her to her feet and ushered her forward. She gasped when he plastered her naked body against cold metal. As she was trying to adjust to the shock, he pinned her hands over her head and began to fuck her.

“You feel that, princess? This is the closest to heaven I’ve ever felt. It took years of planning, tens of millions in Hennessy & Co stock, and my mother’s heart attack to bring us here. You’re riding this out with me.”

She was too busy being brutally fucked to concentrate on his words, much less respond. She was still swollen and sore from last night. The pleasure-pain was excruciating, but worth it because… Yes, right there. He was hitting that spot that made her lose her ever-loving mind. She clawed slick metal and when her head arched back, her lips were captured by his. He swallowed her scream and groaned as she shuddered against him.

“My turn.”

He took a step back to bend her over. With her cheek pressed to the elevator and hands braced so he didn’t smash her into the unforgiving doors, she rode the crest until he came. He folded forward, forearm braced against the elevator, while the other gripped her waist as he spilled inside of her. He stroked her damp skin before he placed kisses along her spine and straightened.

She panted against the door, not ready to face whatever came next. Her breath caught as Roth cleaned her. She turned in time to see him drop her Burberry bottoms. Before he could do anything to her top, she slipped back into it. Roth tucked his shirt and zipped his pants as she stared down at her smeared sweats. How was she going to leave now? She wasn’t going to waltz out in stained pants or leave in a hoodie that barely covered her cooch. Did he do it on purpose? She glanced at the elevator, which was now far from spotless with blotches from bodies being pressed against it and…

 “Are you going to look at me?”

She licked dry lips. “Nothing’s changed. I want to leave.”

He cupped her chin to get her attention. His features were soft and relaxed, but his eyes were alert and intent.

“Give me a chance to make this up to you.”

“You can’t tell me you married me to punish me and expect sex to make it better. You targeted me to hurt me, humiliate me. Who does that?” She stepped back. “I’m breaking our contract.”

“We have to move past this.”

“That’s what I’m doing!”

“You’re avoiding it and running, not solving it.”

“There’s nothing to salvage from this disaster.”

“I don’t agree.” His eyes traveled down, darkened. “You’re still dripping.”

She staggered back and tugged on the bottom of the sweater. “That’s your fault.”

“Not all of it. You were wet before I even touched you.”

When he stalked after her, she held up her hand.

“Stop, Roth.” Of course, he didn’t. “We’re done! I don’t want any of this! I just want to write and live a quiet life. I don’t want drama or trauma. I just want to be happy.”

When she backed into the wall, she tried to change directions, but she wasn’t quick enough. He boxed her in by planting his hands on either side of her.

“Were you happy without me?” When she drew in a breath, he bit out, “Be honest.”

She slashed her hand through the air. “I was okay—I was content.” When his eyes narrowed, she snapped, “I wasn’t miserable and bawling my eyes out and having breakdowns every other day.”

“When were you happiest?”

Her stomach dropped. They stared at another as painful memories shimmered in the air between them.

“It wasn’t real,” she said hoarsely.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his forearms flex as his hands fisted on the wall on either side of her.

“It was as real for you as it was for me.”

**This is a raw draft of Bitter Confessions. Please do not share or distribute.

Copyright © 2024 Mia Knight. All Rights Reserved.