The rage morphed into something else then, something as ugly as the accusations she was throwing at him. He grabbed the wrist she’d used to slap him, and when she tried to yank it away from him, he threw her over his shoulder, not caring how it must have looked to Diana.
“Put me down.” She banged her fists against his back as he carried her out of the house and back to the guest cottage, which Andrew and Diana still hadn’t updated from the days when he lived there.
It looked exactly the same as it had back then, down to the framed 70s movie posters on the living room walls. He didn’t put her down. He didn’t even break his stride as he fireman carried her through the house. He didn’t stop until he deposited her on the bed. Then he got on top of her before she could sit up, straddling her and pinning her wrists above her head with one hand.
“Say you belong to me,” he said.
“Let me go,” she said. “I can’t believe you did that! Diana probably thinks we’re both crazy right now!”
“I don’t care,” he growled. “Say it.”
“No, I don’t belong to you! I don’t belong to anyone but myself.” She struggled against his vice grip on her hands. “And maybe Andrew back in the day. But you forgot to mention that, didn’t you?”
Rage went off like a bomb in his head. “You are mine,” he said. “You were always mine.”
He reached underneath her leggings and curved two fingers into her hole, which despite her anger was already warm and dripping. “You didn’t get this wet for Andrew.”
She looked away, obviously frustrated her body was responding to him even when she didn’t want it to. “How would you know?” she asked him, through clenched teeth. “Maybe I did get wet like that for Andrew. Maybe I got even wetter. Maybe all of those sexy dreams I had were about him.”
“Don’t say that.” He kissed her roughly, his fingers still working inside of her. “Don’t ever fucking say anything like that to me ever again.”
“I’ll say whatever I want,” Layla said. “I’m sick of being nice to you when all you do is lie to me. I can’t wait to leave this city and you behind.”
His soul screamed when she said that. “No, you belong to me. You’re not like this with anyone else. Prove it, come for me right now.”
Layla bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut, obviously trying to fight of the coming orgasm. But it was too late. He could already feel herself clenching around his fingers. She moaned in embarrassed protest, but came anyway, underneath him, still dressed in all her clothes, with nothing but his hand inside of her.
Now he unfastened his own pants. “I shouldn’t have let you go three days without this.” He released his penis, which had been rock hard since he found her in his brother’s receiving room. “Look at how bad you want me now. You’re hot and begging for me.”
“Fuck you,” she whispered.
“No, I’m going to fuck you until you say what I want to hear.” He pulled her tank top over her head, then used it to bind her wrists to one of the posts that made up the bed’s headboard. “Then maybe I’ll let you fuck me, but not until you admit you’re mine. Not Andrew’s. Mine.”
***
When he said that, Layla could feel herself growing slick with want for him again. She couldn’t believe it. As much as she despised him right now, she still burned to have him inside of her. His fingers hadn’t been enough. Nothing but having him fully embedded in her folds would be enough to satisfy her aching need.
But she shook her head against the rough desire burning through her, making her breasts feel heavy inside her bra, which he then proceeded to strip off of her. It was gone before Layla could even think to protest its removal. He took one pebbled nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around her large aureole, and applied so much pressure with his clamped lips that it walked a thin line between pleasure and pain.
She arched underneath him and he responded by pushing a knee between her thighs, making her open wide for him before he slipped inside of her with a long, slow thrust that set her teeth edge it felt so good. He lifted one of her legs over his shoulder, angling himself so he hit her G-spot every time he rocked into her. Then he stared at her hard and angry, until she came a second time.
“How many times do I have to make you come before you admit it?” he asked.
She stared back at him then, eyes defiant. “You might be able to control my body, but you don’t control me. I had every right to come here and ask questions, especially if your brother and I used to date. I don’t know why you want to keep us apart, and I don’t care, but I’m not going to stop looking for him until I find out what happened ten years ago.”
She had thought he was angry before, but nothing compared to the look that came over his face when she said that.
Without warning, he pulled out and flipped her over. Her tank top stretched and twisted to accommodate her new position, and the next thing she knew, he’d pushed her butt into the air, entering her from behind, his passage ensured by the fact that she was dripping wet from the two times she’d already come for him.
“You want to know what happened?” he asked from behind her.
But when she tried to raise up to look back at him, he pressed her chest into the bed, pinning her there even as he stoked the fire inside of her with his merciless thrusts. “No, stay there.”
She wanted to fight him on this, but he felt so thick inside of her, filling her up again and again as he slid in and out of her wet tunnel. She had to use all of her concentration to resist coming a third time.
“You want to know what happened?” he asked again, from his now fully dominant position over her.
“Yes, I want to know,” she said, tearing up. He wasn’t just punishing her for going behind his back to find his brother, he was humiliating her, and she was letting him, because Nathan, more than anyone she’d ever met, made her feel powerless, like she couldn’t control her thoughts or body when he was in the room.
He bent over her, fingering one of her nipples as he stroked into her with slow, deep thrusts. “Here’s what happened. You dated Andrew, and pretended you were too good of a girl to let him touch you. But one night when he was out of town, you claimed to love me, let me fuck you in that window seat you dreamt about, then we moved to this very bed, where I fucked you two more times. Then when Andrew returned the next morning, you went right back to him like nothing had ever happened between us. Because you are a beautiful liar, who used to get off on having two brothers chase after you before you fell and conveniently forgot every duplicitous thing you had ever said or done to me. That’s what happened.”