This Is Love, Baby (War & Peace #2)(5)

The world around me tilts and I’m nauseated. I don’t want him touching me—invading me—in all the places I’d given to War. I’d willingly given every part of myself to War and belong only to him.

Gabe cradles my cheek with his palm and regards me with tender eyes. “I don’t know what all went on with that *, but you have to know we belong together. I promise, it won’t always be so hard, Baylee. One day you’ll be the mother of my children and my wife. It’s all I’ve ever wanted. Ever since the moment I moved in next-door to you, and laid eyes on my wise, sweet little neighbor. I knew you belonged to me in that moment.”

I’m too stunned to speak and his mouth covers mine, further silencing me. He sucks on my quivering bottom lip before biting it gently. When his tongue shoves its way into my mouth, I close my eyes and mentally retreat.

I can’t do this.

I can’t be his prisoner for life.

I refuse to be his kept woman.

When he starts sliding his cock against my clit, I jolt my eyes open. He breaks from our one-sided kiss and looks between us as he thrusts.

“Gabe,” I manage to choke out, “I don’t want to do this.”

He flashes me a warm smile. “Not yet, but you will. Just like last time, sweetheart.”

I shake my head as he continues to slide back and forth between the lips of my *. He doesn’t enter me, just continues to rub against me. Unwanted sensations—my body being manipulated into responding to his touch—begin to ripple through me. I clamp my eyes closed and focus on anything other than what he’s doing to me.

I won’t let him win this time.

I’ve grown up a lot since the first time he took me.

I have control over my body, not him.

A jolt slices through me and I cry out. It’s a quiver of pleasure, of want, and I hate it. Absolutely hate the way his familiar touch once again steals the rein of control from me.

“You love it when I do this,” he tells me smugly as he continues his gentle bucking against me. “I bet your * is getting wet.”

I shake my head at him and the tears continue to roll out. “I hate you.”

He groans when the tip of his cock slides against my opening. I attempt to clench my thighs together, but with him between them, there’s no stopping him. I’m granted a momentary reprieve when he pulls away just a bit.

“Let’s see, baby.”

His finger pushes into me and I cry out. He doesn’t do anything except for sticking it inside me, only to pull it right back out. I refuse to look at him and the disgusting look of triumph that I know I’ll find. I keep my eyes snapped shut.

“Ahhh,” he says with a pleased laugh, “I was right. Your body does still belong to me.”

He drags his wet finger around one of my nipples and teases the hardened peak. I wiggle to no avail.

“I won’t let you rest until you come for me. We can do this all day, Baylee. I’ve waited for you while you were gone. I didn’t share myself with anyone knowing I’d have you back where you belong eventually.”

I sob when he goes back to sliding his cock against my throbbing, betraying bundle of nerves.

Think of War.

Think of War.

I’m trying to block him out when I feel his hot mouth on my sex. Jerking my eyes back open, I glare down at him. His tongue takes over and my squirming only serves to make him more ravenous.

Licking and slurping.

Biting and sucking.

There’s no possible escape for me from his pleasure assault and it’s making me crazy. If my body gives in, I’ll not only betray myself, I’ll betray War.

“Mmm,” he moans against me, his hot breath only making my struggle to remain strong harder on me.

His finger is back inside of me in an instant as he continues to taste me. I roll my eyes back into my head and attempt to ignore the curling of the impending release twisting its way through my lower body like a sharp knife.

The craving to climax is strong.

Sickening.

Torturous.

I hate the way my body begs for it. How it quakes and quivers in need.

My mind pleads for another way but I know it’s hopeless. I’m once again prisoner to the villain who plays my body as if it were an instrument only he knows how to play. Each muscle in my body aches and burns as I do everything in my power not to let him win.

But he does win.

His fingers know parts of me inside that surrender to his demands. Parts that aren’t connected to my heart or mind.

A shudder, hard enough to rattle the earth beneath us, overtakes me. It’s pain and hate and fury all rolled into one exhausting release. My * clenches around his fingers and my own duplicitous juices run from my body along the crack of my ass, wetting the bed beneath me.

What have I done?

With reluctance, I reopen my eyes and take responsibility for what I allowed to happen.

I loathe him.

But who I loathe more is myself.

I’m no longer the Baylee I once knew. He’s found a way to sever the last thread of connection to who I was. The last thread to my life with War. I am nothing, floating and black. My soul wails in hopeless defeat.

“There, there.” He kisses the inside of my thigh once I’ve come down from my unwanted orgasm. “That was perfect. You’re perfect, Baylee.”