“Come on, tell me,” I push. I refuse to back off until I break her down. It’s not something I ever thought I’d have to do. “I want to know.”
When I flex my hips again, a whimper escapes from her parted lips. Misery wars with desire. It’s such a strange concoction.
“Please, Brayden,” she whispers. “We can’t do this. You have no idea.”
Anger crashes through me. “You’re damn right about that. I don’t understand why you’re so intent upon keeping us apart. And you know what? I won’t allow it. Everything was perfect until this weekend. I don’t understand what happened to turn everything to shit, but you’re going to tell me.” I’m so fucking furious that I can barely hold it in check. “Do you understand?”
“I can’t.”
The answer that bursts free is nothing more than a choked cry. But it’s exactly what I needed to know. There’s a method to her madness. And right now, that’s exactly what it feels like.
Madness.
I’m all but consumed by it.
“Yes, you can. Haven’t you realized that you can tell me anything?” I drive my erection against her core one last time, deciding to employ a different tactic to elicit the information I’m after. The only way we’ll move past this issue is if I crack her open until she has no other choice but to spill the contents she’s withholding.
But to stand there and try to tell me she doesn’t want me?
That she’s over this?
That she doesn’t feel what I do?
I’m calling bullshit.
And that’s exactly what I’m going to prove. Maybe my tactics are a little underhanded and cross a line, but I don’t really give a damn. I’ll do everything in my power to break through the walls Sydney’s resurrected to keep me at a safe distance. This girl is going to realize real quick that all her efforts are for naught.
As I pull away, she releases a shaky breath. Sydney might think she’s being given a reprieve, but she couldn’t be more wrong. The moment air escapes from her lungs, my fingers drift to the waistband of her jeans. With her attention fastened on me, I unsnap the button and lower the zipper. The sound of metal teeth grinding against each other shatters the silence.
“You want me to stop?”
God knows that I don’t want to. I’m not even sure if I can. The need to touch her thrums through me like an insistent pulse, blinding me to everything else.
Her teeth scrape against her lower lip as conflict erupts on her features.
That’s all the prodding I need to take the decision out of her hands. My fingers skim over the muscles of her belly before delving into her panties. With one smooth motion, I thrust them inside her soft heat.
Fuck, but I’ve missed this more than I realized.
A garbled sound escapes from her parted lips as her eyelids lower to half-mast. As reluctant as I am to drag my fingers from her body, I pull them almost all the way out before driving them inside for a second time. Her pupils dilate with pleasure as I repeat the maneuver.
If I were a better man, I could resist taunting her. “For someone who doesn’t want me, you sure are wet.” I press closer, nipping at her plump lower lip before growling, “Soaking wet.”
Embarrassment stings her cheeks as she rips her gaze away. My fingers settle on her chin before turning it so she has no other choice but to meet my knowing stare.
“If I’m going to get you off, you’re damn well going to watch me do it. I want you to know exactly who’s touching you when you fall apart. Do you understand me, baby?”
The harsh demand coupled with the steady rhythm of my fingers driving into her softness are all it takes to send her careening over the edge. Her orgasm comes on so hard and fast that it racks her body. Even when she tries to fall forward and rest her forehead against my chest, I keep her pinned to the wall until every last shudder has faded.
It takes a handful of minutes for her breathing to even out. My fingers are still lodged deep inside her body where they belong. “Tell me again that you don’t want me.” There’s a pause. “Tell me,” I urge.
For the first time since she smashed my heart into pieces, I’m hopeful that there’s a real possibility of reaching her. How can she stand here and look me in the eye, all the while insisting that she doesn’t want me when I’ve just proven her to be a liar? All I have to do is touch her body and she shatters.
How can she deny it?
Or me?
You know what?
She can’t.
End of story.
With fingers that tremble, she removes my hand before hastily buttoning up her jeans. Sorrow fills her eyes as they flicker toward me. “I’m sorry, Brayden. You need to trust that I’m doing what’s right for both of us.”