Maisie
There were no gentle remarks. No praises. No soft kisses on my skin. No caresses. I hated it. But I felt the pleasure cramping low in my stomach, where he was hitting so deep, I felt him in my gut with every mean thrust.
Tears pricked my eyes. I didn't want it to be like this. I wanted to take back the word, even if it was the only wall I could hide behind. I wanted to apologize for saying it in the first place.
But I buried it. I had nothing to apologize for. They ought to apologize to me. Every day. Every minute. Every second.
The air of hostility in the booth scraped against my skin, wedging the tension into my bones, and though a single tear rolled down my left cheek, I was weeping between my legs too, gushing around Quinlan as he rocked back and forth, hard, brutal, and I knew I wouldn't be able to walk out of here on my own tonight.
Mercer yanked at my hair with an angry growl and pushed past my lips.
