Love, par sex ke baad (Love, but after sex)

Chapter 8

Dinner was a quiet affair tonight. He asked me about my day, I asked him about his. He led me to his room, and we fucked hard. He went to the bathroom to freshen up, and I gathered the bed sheet around me to go to my bathroom to pee. I also wanted to change into something comfortable and something not naked. As I was walking back to his room, I saw him standing in the hallway. His face was hidden in darkness. I moved closer, and my heart dropped to my stomach. He was still naked, and his face was blazing with anger. At that moment, I knew what fear was. At that moment, I learned how a deer felt before the tiger pounced on him. I wanted to run away, but his gaze held me captive.

I didn't know what made him so angry. Was he mad because I hadn't moved my things to his room? "What happened?" I asked in a low voice. In response, he grabbed my hand and pushed me against the wall. He grabbed my jaw and pulled my face up. His lips descended on my mouth; his kiss – for the lack of a better term – was savage. I could feel my lips tearing; I could taste my blood. Tears sprang into my eyes. This wasn't the kind of pain he had subjected me to in the past. He was punishing me for not moving my stuff to his room. I pushed at him with all my strength, but he just grabbed my wrists and held them against my back. He moved his other hand from my jaw and ripped my nightdress by pulling it down. He bit my nipple hard, and I screamed in pain. He then moved his hand to my pussy and thrust three fingers in. I shut my eyes finally and stopped struggling against him. It hurt too much to struggle. My tears were falling freely now. His thrusting paused for only a moment when he noticed my lack of struggle. He started using his thumb on my clit. I could feel the heat building in my lower back, and I tried to twist my body away from him. I did not want to come. I did not want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he could make my body putty, but he already knew that. The rhythm of his fingers and thumb proved that. I screamed in agony. My tears were falling unrestrained. My breath hitched in my throat when he pressed against the hood of my clit. I knew I was going to come if he didn't stop. I tried to buck my hips to get away from his hand, but his body was still holding me steady. The knowledge of his strength and his constant fingering finally brought me to the edge. I gasped for air as I felt my whole body tighten around his fingers.

He removed his fingers from my vagina and carried me in his arms to the bedroom. He set me on the bed and poured a glass of water for me. He held the glass to my lips for me to drink. He rounded the bed and sat down on it. He wiped my tears and pulled me towards him. I knew he wasn't going to say anything. I knew he wasn't going to ask me why I hadn't moved to his room. I knew this way his way of telling me to obey him. The lack of verbal communication angered me. He expected me to move into his room, and yet he can't talk to me. I wanted to fight with him, but he stroked my hair like I was a small child. My body was tired, and sleep engulfed me.