JENNIE
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I've never done this before and I'm nervous as hell because it feels like a different kind of test entirely. I keep turning the ring around my finger and I wish I wouldn't. It's an obvious sign of my nerves. So instead, I tuck my hands inside of the long sleeves of my blue knit sweater so only the tips of my fingers show.
I've never been here either and it occurs to me that the room was designed for just this. The office is small and cozy and just off the kitchen, with a couch, a chair, and a desk. Aria's art hangs on walls painted a warm eggshell color. I think this room would feel warm even on the coldest day of the year. Built-in shelves on one side hold smaller pieces by Aria and photographs. She and Mino smile out from one. The two of them plus the kids.
It's a heartbreakingly normal home office. A stranger sitting in here would know that somebody liked art, and that Aria and Mino are happy together. They'd never know what it takes to win happiness for people like Mino and his siblings. All that darkness would be hidden from them.
Or, if not hidden, just…out of sight. It's not on display here, the way it might be if Aria put it into one of her pieces. Well except for the fact that the person staring back at me is supposed to hear all of that…since she's a therapist.
I settle back into the couch, unsure of what, exactly, to do with my body. This room is neutral in a way that says it's trying to be neutral, which is very different from the rest of the house. I know there are cameras here. I know I'm being watched.
Which isn't what I'd expect from a therapy session, I guess, but it is what I'd expect in the world of the Manobans.
"This isn't a test, right?" My soft question moves across the room, no doubt being picked up by microphones from those cameras. How many people are tracking the words that come out of my mouth? Just Lisa, or one of her men, or one of her brothers? Is there a room somewhere in the house where they can sit and watch? Anxiousness creeps up my arms and I find myself crossing them as I breathe out a slow steady breath.
I don't like the thought of a dark room and computer screens displaying my therapy session, but I bet there's an explanation for that, too. There's a reason it has to happen.
The therapist smiles at me from her seat near the desk. She's an older woman, and she looks at home in this office. An elegant top is paired with slacks that look both comfortable and expensive at the same time. Dark hair is pulled back in a twist. If the cameras make her feel anything, I can't tell. She meets my eyes with a warm, considering expression. "Are you used to being tested?"
I glance around the room one more time, still unsure of all of this as I readjust. I didn't expect for the session to be totally private, obviously, but it would be easier if I knew where the cameras were. If this kind of thing is going to be a regular part of my life, then there's no need to hide it so much. She can be up-front about it.
"Jennie?" Her question directs my attention back to her, and I remember that she asked me a question in return for mine.
"I can tell you anything? Lisa said I could, and can I trust her with that?" I ask her. Lisa can watch all she wants while I spill out everything that comes to mind.
Afterall, she told me to say whatever I wanted. I'm tempted to do just that, but…I want her confirmation first. I know that's not enough to truly judge a person on, but I have Aria's word that she's good, too.
"Of course you can. I mean that. Anything." She leans forward a little, folding her hands over a notepad in her lap. "I grew up in this life, Jennie. You can tell me you murdered your first lover and I wouldn't say a word to anyone."
Lisa told me that, too. This woman has been around for years. I let myself relax a little and remember her first question.
"Yes. I'm used to being tested."
She sits up, taking a pen in hand. "It sounds like you don't like that."
"I hated it. I was furious about it."
"In the past, or do you still feel that way?"
"I feel like—" I give it a few moments. There's no need to rush my answers. "It was upsetting, and it made me angry. I didn't understand it, and that just made me feel…out of control."
"What changed?"
I shrug, a bit helpless at how to answer. "It was gradual. I had to take the time to figure things out. The hardest thing to get past was the distrust."
"Have you communicated this with Lisa?"
"Yes."
"What was her response?"
"She was remorseful. She felt awful about it." An ache in my chest reminds me of how much I love her. Of how it hurts to think of her terrified for me, and worried, and how that must still follow her around to this day. "She does her best to reassure me. Every chance she gets now."
She absorbs this for a few minutes. It's clear that she's had lots of experience as a therapist because there's no impatience in the quiet. There really is space for me to say anything I need to say.
When I don't continue, she gives a small nod. "Do you forgive her?"
I do. I could tell her right away, but I force myself to slow down and think through the question from beginning to the end. Sometimes, I don't want to feel my feelings. I want to push them away and get on with my life. That's not why I'm here today.
But, when I've thought about it again, I come to the same conclusion as before.
"Yes. I do." Emotion makes my chest feel tight all over again. Normally I'd cry, then pull myself together. Or I'd push it away and ignore it. I let myself feel it. "I forgive her. I love her, and I understand why it happened. But it still scares me."
"Still scares you? Worse than before, or—"
"Not as much."
"Because?"
"Because they believe me." Isn't it crazy how much we rely on others to not feel crazy?
The therapist nods. I didn't need her to back me up—I'm confident that Lisa and her brothers believe me.
"What do they believe you about?"
"I don't want to talk about it." The defensive feeling takes me by surprise. So does my tone, which is way more forceful than I mean. So much for taking my time with my answers.
The therapist raises her hands, still calm. "That's fine. Is that a trigger for you?"
"A trigger?"
"Bringing up whatever it was that happened." She lowers her hands slowly, like she doesn't want to startle me.
"Yes." My face is hot, and emotions bubble under the surface. I want to brush it off so badly, but then…this is why I'm talking to a therapist in the first place. I tried to sweep all of this under the rug, and it's just not happening. "Kind of."
"Does Lisa know that?" This question is calm and gentle, just like the therapist, and it makes me feel better that we're not talking about what happened, exactly, but the way I've handled it. That's…safer ground, but it does make me think I should eventually talk through all of it, even if I don't want to.
And I don't want to.
"I feel like she does," I offer because I'm not sure what Lisa knows. I don't live in her mind. If I did, we probably wouldn't have had so much trouble with the testing.
"Maybe it's something you can express to her," the therapist suggests. "I find creating a strong boundary around what is acceptable to be exposed to and discussed and what isn't is very helpful in this life."
The conversation continues easily for another forty minutes. But I keep going back to the boundaries and how it's so very obvious now that I think about it. Lisa is searching for mine so she doesn't cross them.
A soft knock at the door interrupts my thoughts.
"Yes?" the therapist calls out.
The door opens, and Lisa pokes her head in. "Should I join, or no?" She runs a hand over the back of her neck, glancing at me. "Just offering, if you want." Seeing her, those piercing eyes searching mine, there's nothing I want more than to be in her arms.
I shake my head. "It's okay. I think we're done for now."
I stand, content on ending the session and the therapist follows my lead. She faces me with a smile. "Let me know if you want to talk again, Jennie. I'm available. All it takes is a phone call."
She steps past me, and Lisa moves out of her way. Lisa doesn't follow her, though. She stands in the doorway, stopping me from leaving. My stomach drops at the expression on her face. Something's wrong. It's only then that I remember the fucking cameras and that all of this was probably nothing more than a test. It's a crippling realization.
"I have some things to tell you, my sweet girl." That same remorseful look fills her eyes, and a chill runs down my spine.
I swallow thickly, wanting to get it over with. "Did I say something I shouldn't have?"
She blinks, her brow furrowing. "What?"
"I assumed you were watching. Cameras, or—I assumed someone was watching, anyway."
"No, Jen." She takes a step toward me. "I didn't watch, and no one will. These sessions are for you. There aren't any cameras in here."
"Oh." My laugh sounds nervous. It sounds exactly how I feel. "It's…something else, then."
"Something else," she agrees. "It's something I think you're going to want to know, and it might help you get a little closure."
Her eyes darken as she speaks, and her skin flushes. She was remorseful before, but now she's angry. She might've been relaxed and curious when she first knocked on the door. Now she's definitely not. Her shoulders are tense. She's on edge.
My heart beats faster. "I get scared when you're like this."
I'm met with another confused look. "Like what?"
"You're on edge. Your mind is elsewhere. You're angry and a minute ago you were…well, you were calm a minute ago, and now…are you angry?"
A sad yet handsome smirk lifts her lips up. "My naive girl," she says in that tone that melts every worry. She moves in closer and strokes a hand over my hair. I'm comforted by the gesture in spite of myself. Lisa, when she's like this, is actually a dangerous woman. I'm not wrong to be wary. "You have no idea the fucked-up shit I'm thinking right now."
"Should I be worried?"
Her hand settles on the side of my neck, and Lisa bends to whisper into my ear. The warm caress of her breath makes me shiver. I wouldn't mind if she took me to bed for this conversation, whatever it's going to be. I wouldn't mind hiding in the blankets with her.
"I found out who set you up," she whispers.
It takes a moment for me to realize exactly what she said. Cold sweeps over every inch of my body.
I gasp, my trembling hands coming up to touch her shirt. I don't need her to stand on my own two feet. I just want to be touching her. My body steadies the second my palms are over her heartbeat. I dare to ask her, "What are you going to do?"
She chuckles, and the sound is low and hot. It's dangerous, just like she is. Sometimes, when we're in bed together, I can forget about the dark parts of Lisa. I can ignore the dark parts of both our lives. But they're always with her.
My heart pounds. Whatever Lisa's about to say, she's already decided. She knew before she came into this room. She has a plan for what happens next, and knowing Lisa, it's not going to be a lawsuit or a cease-fire.
"I'm going to make him pay," she says, her voice just above a whisper. Shivers explode down my spine, all the way down the backs of my legs and down to my toes. This isn't just Lisa speaking to me now. This is Lisa Manoban. "I'm going to set an example. No one will ever touch you or speak ill of you ever again. And I want you to come with me."
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LISA
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My sweet naive girl doesn't belong in Mino's office.
With a pretty blue knit sweater that makes her appear even smaller, she's out of place in the harsh and dark atmosphere.
I thread my fingers between hers and squeeze. Our clasped hands hang between the two chairs. She sits on the left and I sit on the right. Both of us are across from Mino, who's barely looked at me while he apologizes to Jennie.
"There's nothing we can do to make it right," Mino says as his thumb taps against the desk.
"It's okay," Jennie is quick to say, and I swear I can hear her heart pounding.
"It's not okay," Mino corrects her but in a gentler tone I appreciate. "He's going to pay Jennie, and we have a plan."
I bring her knuckles to my lips and kiss them one by one. "Don't be scared."
"I do have some questions," Mino states, and I breathe in deeply.
"Like a test?" she asks and the hesitancy and fear are still there. Disappointment flows through me. Not toward her but toward myself.
"No more tests; I really did a number on you," I tell her, my thumb running soothing circles over her knuckles.
"I read the note that you left here…when," Mino attempts to be careful with his words. I've only seen him like this a few times and it's only ever been toward my sisters-in-law. It's an odd feeling to realize he sees her as she truly is. Family. To care for and to protect, even from us.
"When I ran away," Jennie completes his thought in a whisper.
"You were scared when you ran?" he asks and my shoulders stiffen.
"She was terrified." Adrenaline pumps harder as I think about what comes next. "For good reason."
Mino only stares at me for a moment, he doesn't respond.
"Did something specific happen that made you that afraid? Or was it a thought or something you remembered, maybe?"
"Can I ask why?" Her chest rises and falls.
"Of course you can," I answer for him. "You can ask whatever you need."
"Because you accepted blame for something I don't think you did."
"At that point," she answers with her eyes glassy, "I thought I must have…I overheard something and it—"
"What did you overhear?" Mino asks before I can get the question out.
"I overheard something—" Her gaze drops and I tell her it's all right.
"Hey, hey," I murmur and reach over, cupping her jaw in my hand. "It's okay," I console her. Her hands reach up to grab my wrists.
"It doesn't feel okay."
"It's better than okay, my sweet girl. We're ending this and every piece of this today."
"You promise?" she questions, hope in her eyes that reminds me of all the times she looked up at me, wanting me to be her hero when I'm nothing more than a villain.
"I promise," I tell her and I lean forward, planting a gentle kiss on her lips. She molds her lips to mine and clings to me. I don't want to break the bond but I must.
As my heart pounds in my chest and I pull away, her eyes stay closed longer, as if she doesn't want that moment to end.
"You overheard what? From who?" Mino asks as I sit back in my seat.
Jennie breathes out slowly, not looking at Mino but staring at the desk as if it's replaying a memory. "Nate was on the front porch and he said…he said something like 'You're sure it is Jennie? I don't want to be the one to do it this time.'"
"Sure what was you?" Mino asks and confusion deepens the crease in his forehead.
Jennie shakes her head. "I don't know. It sounded like he was saying I sent something. That someone was sure I sent something. I didn't send anything to anyone," she blurts out the words, her voice raising higher and higher. "He said the bitch sent it."
"The bitch he referred to might have been the cop?" I question, looking at Mino who nods along with me. "The cop sent him something about Jennie?"
"Probably the warrant for her arrest," Mino comes to the conclusion.
"What?" Jennie questions.
She glances between the two of us and her grip on my hand gets tighter. "I assumed I was the woman he was talking about. He did say my name."
"Is it possible the conversation was about someone else who mentioned you?" Mino asks, and Jennie's expression makes it obvious she's thinking back on it all.
"Nate's been working with the cops."
"Oh my God," she breathes, her eyes widening.
"He's the one who set you up. He could have been talking about the cop he was working with."
"Can you remember exactly what he said?"
She shakes her head, her breathing intensifying. "I don't think I want to think about it." My poor girl is spiraling and I can't watch it happen. Nate's hurt her enough for this life. No more. He doesn't get to keep hurting her like this. That's the thing about abuse. Even when the abuser's gone, the pain stays in the memories.
"Okay then. It's done. Jennie it's done," Mino says at the same time that I tell her, "You don't need to answer anything else. It's over Jennie."
"It doesn't matter what exactly he said. We know enough of the pieces," Mino says with finality.
Her hands tremble in mine and I hold her while Mino gets her a drink. The glass clinks in the background while I tell her repeatedly that it's all right. Whiskey, of course, which she only stares at a second before she gulps it down.
"I think I can offer you something that will end it all for you," I add as I stare deep into her eyes, knowing this is something I would want but also knowing I'm fucked in the head and she isn't me. She isn't damaged and brutal like I am. "Real closure and justice."
"I want that," she answers desperately. "I want it to be done with forever."
"Come with us," Mino says, already making his way to the door.
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JENNIE
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I'm as nervous as I've ever been in my life as we walk through the house toward a certain wing that I'd rather avoid forever. My heart beats rapidly in my chest. My palms sweat. My legs feel heavy, like they might take over and run me right back to Lisa's bedroom without my permission. Lisa is steady at my side, her expression determined.
"Lisa," I say, my voice shaking. "I don't know if I can—"
She puts a hand on my lower back and adds the slightest pressure to tell me to keep walking. "You're with me, and I love you. Nothing is going to happen to you. I'm sorry anyone ever hurt you, Jennie. That ends for good today."
From behind me, Mino cuts in. "This is a gift to you."
"I—" I shake my head.
"If you don't want to do this," Mino continues. "You don't have to. It's—"
"She's going to want this," Lisa says, cutting her brother off. "I don't want her to live with regret or ever wonder where we stand."
"Why would I want this?" I ask Lisa, my pulse racing even faster as we pass one door and then another, both of which are metal.
She glances down at me and a muscle in the side of her jaw tics. "He hurt you. This all happened because of him."
I dare to ask the question, half expecting to see a dead body behind whatever door is opened. "Is he still alive?"
Dark anger flashes through her eyes. "Not for long."
It hits me then that I'm going to witness a murder. That I'll see this man die in just a moment. And I'm so torn on how to feel. So conflicted by right and wrong. Memories fly through my mind and with Nate, come memories of Jisoo. I nearly trip over my own feet as I'm led to a closed door ahead.
"Come on, Jen. I want you to see what happens to anyone who ever hurts you."
The heavy metal door opens and just inside the door, Nate's tied to a chair with thick ropes and has a black bag over his head. Sehun stands at his side, his arms crossed over his chest, a scowl on his face.
Shock and fear both race through me.
When we're all inside the room, Sehun pulls the bag off. Nate's gagged, his face red, and his eyes wide with fear. His lip is cut and his cheek bruised. My breath catches and I can barely stand up straight.
Sehun removes the gag and Nate's head lulls. He's barely holding on to consciousness.
"Get anything from him?"
"He admitted he was working with a cop. He made a deal."
"I was," Nate exhales breathlessly.
"He was covering his ass."
"According to his bank account he was covering more than just his ass," Hanbin speaks up from the corner of the room. I didn't even see him there. He stalks forward, wearing all black, just like Sehun.
My stomach turns. Cold races up and down my arms. The memory of what he did is as clear and vivid as if it had happened five minutes ago. The way he killed…
"Jisoo," I whisper.
"Jisoo was working for the other side, Jennie," Mino says. "But she was also working with Nate, wasn't she?"
"Wasn't she?" he repeats.
Nate's breathing is hard and fast, and he works his jaw like it's painful from the way they gagged him. "She's a liar," he says, his tone urgent. "Whatever she told you isn't true."
My heart races as his bloodshot eyes meet mine.
Is he calling me a liar? Betrayal and fear creep into my mind with racing questions. I didn't lie about anything. I don't know anything about any of this. My throat tightens and I can't speak.
Mino brushes by my side and goes to pace around Nate. There's so much raw fear in the room that I can taste it in the air. Anger, too. The Manobans are furious, and they're scary when they're furious.
"It didn't come from Jennie," Mino tells Nate. He and Sehun are both circling Nate now, and Nate's eyes follow them with wide-eyed terror. "She had no idea until just a moment ago."
Sehun pulls out a leather sleeve. I can see the handles of three different knives poking out from the top. My mouth goes dry, and my heartbeat is painful now. I don't think it's supposed to beat this fast under any circumstance.
"Don't," says Nate. "Don't do this to me."
Sehun stares at him, cold and blank, then comes over to me. "You have choices."
"No." I shake my head, maybe a little harder than I needed to. "I don't…I don't want to do that." I involuntarily take a step back.
I don't want to torture a person. I know that Nate's not good. I know he did this to us. But I don't want that memory in Lisa's mind, and I don't want it in mine, either.
Lisa takes my hand in hers. In her other, she offers me a gun. The metal is cold and heavy in my palm. "Take this my sweet girl," she whispers at my neck.
My heart races and I'm all too aware that they're all watching me, even though I can't move my gaze from the death stare Nate has locked onto me.
I want to shake my head and deny that, too, but instead, I take it.
My body is heavy as she raises my arm for me, helping me to hold the weapon.
"You can make the decision," Lisa says, softly. This is the same way she tells me that she loves me. She reassures me all the while Nate shakes his head, cursing, and telling them they're making a mistake.
"It wasn't me," Nate insists. He wriggles in the ropes like there's any hope of getting free. There's not. They tied him too tight. "You've got the wrong guy."
"We don't," Sehun says, his tone flat.
"No, we fucking don't," Mino agrees. "We know it was you. We have plenty of proof. You knew there would be consequences if we found out."
"You can end this," Lisa tells me, her front to my back. Her heart beats steadily and her voice is so calm. "This is the man who set you up," she tells me as I stare at Nate, remembering how he stood there when they lowered me into the tub.
"He knew you had nothing to do with it. He fucking knew," Lisa tells me and the anger in her words tightens her tone. My eyes prick with tears as the memories come back to me, one at a time, each of them playing out.
It's wrong to kill, but it's not so black and white, is it? Not in this world, not with what's happened.
There are shades of gray in everything.
"It wasn't me," Nate says, a little louder.
Sehun moves around him again and holds up the case full of knives. "You sure you don't want to get his confession?"
"No," Lisa says behind me and I feel like I'm hovering outside my body. "He'll lie his way into hell. There's no point."
Lisa moves around behind me, her strong hands sliding over my arms until her hands cover mine. Both of us raise the gun together, but it's mostly me. She lets me be the one to carry more of the weight. She's just supporting me.
I don't pull the trigger though. My heart thumps, and I know I should. I know deep inside a part of me will always be terrified until this man is dead and gone. My finger doesn't move though.
"Okay," Lisa murmurs into my ear as tears slip down my heated cheeks. "You can put it down if you want. I mean that, Jen. We'll shoot him for you. We'll end him for you."
"No," Nate yells, his voice sharpening. "You got the wrong guy. It wasn't me. Why can't you see that? It's not me! I'm not the one who fucked you over!"
Lisa moves her finger up to hover over mine. Our fingers are arranged above the trigger, neither of us touching it yet. "Whenever you're ready," she tells me and I can barely hear her over the rushing of the blood in my ears.
"What the fuck." Nate laughs, and it's a wild, terrified sound. "I can't fucking believe you, Jennie. You're a fucking liar. You just wanted to take a shot at me, and this is how you're going to do it. You're a goddamn—"
Rage flashes through me, hot as anything I've ever felt. "I never lied," I tell him, my voice rising above his bullshit, and then I pull the trigger.
Bang!
Once and then twice. "I'm not a liar!" It doesn't take much pressure at all. So little pressure, actually, that I keep firing. Nate slumps in the chair, but I don't stop shooting. Blood seeps out of each hole so slowly. My hands shake as I fire again.
Lisa stands at my back, her arms strong and steady on mine. If I faltered, she'd catch me. I don't, though. I'm breathing hard, the rush of air painful, but I'm not falling.
I keep firing until the gun clicks in my hand. All the bullets are gone.
I lower the gun, pointing it to the ground, as my ragged breathing slowly calms.
Nate doesn't move. He's still. Dead. He'll never do anything to any of us again. "It's over," Lisa says, reaching for the gun.
Numbly, I hand the gun off to Lisa.
It takes me a moment of standing there, realizing what happened before I can straighten my back and know that it's over.
"You okay?" Lisa asks, tipping my chin up.
I look her in the eye and tell her, "I don't want to be involved." My voice is loud enough that her brothers can hear, and I want them to. I don't want anyone to be confused about how my life is going to be going forward. "In any of this. Ever again."
"Okay," Lisa says with a half smirk. "Do you feel…does it feel like—"
"I'm happy he's dead," I rush the words out, not recognizing the person I am as I look over to Nate's blood-soaked chest. I swallow thickly. "It feels like it's over," I tell Lisa and then I turn and walk out of the room without another glance in Nate's direction.
I feel Sehun and Mino's eyes on me. There's a moment of dead silence as I leave the room.
Footsteps follow me into the hall, and then Lisa's hands are on me. She shoves me into the wall and kisses me, her lips hot on mine. Her tongue is possessive in my mouth. She nips at my lip and kisses me deeper, her whole body leaning toward mine.
The heat is all consuming. The need for her to take all of this away by putting her body on mine.
The tension from before is gone. I kiss her back with everything I have. It's a strange lightness that takes over. I never wanted to have to kill anyone, but in a way, it's like taking my own life back. Nobody else can have it. All that matters now is Lisa.
She pulls back, and pride shines in her eyes. She looks over my face and comes in for another deep kiss before she can speak. "I fucking love you."
I slide my hands around her neck, feeling her pulse along the way. Lisa's warm and soft and alive, and mine. No one can ever tell me differently.
"Is it…" I'm emotional. Choked up over the way she looks right now. Over the relief I feel, and that she must feel, too. "Is it over now?"
She huffs out a laugh. "There are things I need to take care of. But for you? All of this is done. It's over, Jen. You never want to deal with any of this again, you don't have to."
"I don't."
"I love you so fucking much." Lisa bends down and kisses me and I don't know if it's the adrenaline or the relief or just her hands on mine telling me everything I've wanted to hear since it all started.
"I just want you to love me," I murmur and press myself into her.
She cracks a devilishly charming smile that makes my heart skip a beat. Lisa has always been hot, breathtakingly handsome, but there's something about the way she smiles that makes me fall even harder for her. She presses a gentle kiss to my forehead as her hands tighten around my waist. She's still very, very close, like she can't pull herself away.
"Then," she says, "all you have to do now is love me back."
I rise up on tiptoes and kiss her again. This is the taste of the woman I love. The woman I'm going to love for the rest of my life. She makes everything worth it. "I can do that."
Her hands roam my body and before I can stop myself, I'm pressing my lips to hers with a greater need than I've felt before.
She groans deep in her throat as her thumbs hook the waistline of my pants, tugging ever so slightly. As my body heats and my heart races for more, she pulls back, but only to look over her shoulder.
Just as I think she'll deny me, that it's utterly insane to want her after what just happened, she tugs my hand, says "Come here," and leads me to a short hallway.
Before I can look around or question anything, her lips are on mine.
She presses my back against the wall and her fingers drift up my shirt. Her touch is both demanding and gentle, both sides of this woman I love. She takes from me in a way that fills me with a deep need for more. I could never have enough of this woman.
Hips press against mine and her tongue sweeps against mine before she nips my bottom lip and then murmurs for me to turn around. It's a heady feeling, when desire takes over and I give in to it, doing everything she tells me.
"You'll be quiet, my naïve girl," she tells me as she unbuckles her pants and then pulls mine down. "Won't you?" she questions at the shell of my ear, sending delicate shivers down my spine and pebbling my nipples. The head of her cock plays at my entrance and I would agree to whatever she demanded.
I curve my back for her as I nod my head and answer, "Yes, Lisa."
In a single thrust, she's inside of me. The quick sting of sweet pain and impending pleasure force a gasp from me. As I brace myself against the wall, she fucks me relentlessly. It's all too much too fast and yet at the same time, I need more.
I need all of her. As if answering my unspoken desire, her left hand sweeps under my shirt and bra, cupping and kneading my breast. She pinches my nipple at the same time that she nips the curve of my neck. The pleasure rises and it takes everything in me to be as quiet as I can be as she fucks me with a hunger I've never felt before. Murmuring how I'm her good girl and that she loves me.
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