Raw (RAW Family #1)(81)

Crooking my finger, he comes closer to me. I kneel up on my bed and cup my hands around his ears to whisper, “Role play.”

He sniffs a laugh. “Sure. I’m down for that.”

Suddenly nervous, I lean back and dip my chin. “You’ll think I’m weird. That I’m not normal.”

He returns with, “Fuck normal. Who’s to say what’s normal. Labels, babe. That’s all they are. Tell me, baby.” But my mouth won’t open. “C’mon, Lex. I won’t judge you.” But I can’t. That’s when he asks quietly, “You wanna try what Ling was doing?”

I’m so ashamed. I cover my face with my hands as my heart races.

His fingers come under my chin and lift. I drop my hands to accept my fate. Looking into my worried eyes, he kisses me softly before saying, “As soon as I put this belt around your neck, it’s on.”

How did he make that so easy for me? And why do I want this so badly? Both of those thoughts circle my head. My thinking time is cut short when he works the thick black belt around my neck. Looking up at him, mouth parted slightly, he watches me carefully. Buckling on the tightest notch possible, he takes his time, giving me an opportunity to refuse.

But I won’t.

I can’t.

I need this.

Something inside of me desires Twitch’s approval, and has from that very first day.

The moment he releases me, he searches my face. I know the exact moment he turns into his character. My attacker. I know this, because his hooded eyes darken and his lip curls cruelly. He wraps the remainder of the belt around his hand tightly, yanking hard. I yelp as my body is crushed against his strong naked torso. A large hand firmly palms my ass through my little black dress. The touch isn’t warm or affectionate. It’s so unfamiliar that I feel this man isn’t even Twitch.

But isn’t that part of the appeal? That at this very moment, we can become two different people. People we never would be or become.

It’s absolutely thrilling. My heart races and I begin to sweat.

Breathing heavily, I steady myself as much as I can, slide off my bed, and stand in front of him. Twitch taunts, “Move and I f*ckin’ kill you, bitch,” then pulls the belt slowly but firmly closer towards his body. The move makes us impossibly close.

Right now, I believe him; he could hurt me, even though I know this is a game. Right now, Twitch is the most alluring man on earth, as well as the most terrifying.

It all happens so quickly.

His silky boxers are gone. I tremble as he grips the front of my dress, fisting it tight. He looks me in the eye as he pulls with all his might in opposite directions. The sound of material tearing fills the room before it falls at my feet in a heap. I openly gape at him.

I liked that dress.

Now dressed in only a strapless bra and a lace thong, my mind swims in an ocean of bliss as he yanks my bra down below my breasts. The move pushes them high up on my chest, and in the slither of moonlight through the closed curtains, I see his eyes fixed on them. Looking like a starving man eyeing his first meal in months, he steps out of character only a moment to run his thumb down the swell of my breast and mutter, “Perfect. So perfect.”

Shaking his head as if to clear it, he looks down at me through hooded eyes and whispers roughly, “I’m gonna f*ck you bare.” My heart stutters. In a good way. He smirks. “Gonna blow inside of you. And you’re going to like it.”

Cue my first line. “No. Don’t. Please don’t. I’ll get pregnant.”

He barks a laugh. “Perfect.” Crushing his lips to my cheek, he utters against it, “Every time you looked at him, you’d see me.” Biting my cheek none too gently, he hisses, “You don’t stop shaking and I’ll make you choke on my cock.”

It’s almost worrying that he can do this so well.

Almost.

Lowering my voice to a whisper, I beg, “Please let me go. I’ll never tell anyone about this. Just let me go.”

Grinding his impressive length against my stomach, he reaches down to rub my mound through the lacey material. He tuts, “Bitches like you don’t wear shit like this if you don’t want a man to f*ck you. I’m a man, baby. I’m going to f*ck you. Whether you want it or not.”

The fear in my voice suddenly feeling real, I tell him, “If you try, I’ll scream.”

I hear the smile in his voice. “Scream all you like.” His lips touch the shell of my ear. “It turns me on when they fight.” Pulling the material to the side, his finger comes into contact with the wet warmth of my extreme arousal and he whispers, “See? You want this. Your body doesn’t lie. Don’t fight me.”

We both know he really means, ‘Fight me, baby. I love it.’

So I do. Pulling away from him, I lift my foot to his stomach and try to gain some distance between us by pushing away. He pulls on the belt, choking me a moment. I gasp then pant heavily, while my heart races and my head pounds. I push at his shoulders. He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into his body, constricting me. I whimper. He snarls and bites my shoulder. I yelp and cry out in both pleasure and pain. My core pulses. I’m already close to orgasm.

I cry out, “Please don’t hurt me.”

He stills a moment before he utters all too quietly, “I have to.”

Lowering his head, he takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard, then biting the tender flesh. A moan escapes me as my hands grip the back of his head. Running my fingers through his hair, I realize I’m losing myself, and swiftly grasp then tug on his hair. He growls, “You’re gonna regret that.”