Love Is Strange (I Know... #2) by Whitney Bianca

mother said. “Can you believe that? Andromeda. What a name. I bet her mother had a fit. Although I guess a healthy grandbaby is blessing enough, you can't nitpick too much.” My mother clicked her tongue and I knew what she was trying to say. She was easy to read, even when I was half-underwater and almost drowning in lust. She wanted me to get married. She wanted to argue with me over baby names and she wanted me to ride with her to the gas station to get Daddy's smokes and his Coke. S
    Mostly, she wanted me home in Dallas.
    “Mom, I have to...” I had something to say but I forgot it instantly, the second he pinched the spot. I heard him chuckle because he thought he was winning and he was right.
    “I know you're busy, but I just thought of it just now,” she pushed. “Melanie said to tell you hi, and she asked about you and Trace, which was a little...” It was my mother's turn to trail off. “I didn't tell her any details though, I just told her that you two broke up a while back. I didn't tell her any details.” My mother repeated the last line, like it should make me feel something. But I couldn't think about Trace or any of that, not when I'd already sold my soul to a handsome, evil devil. I wanted to kill Elliot for answering the phone.
    “Good,” I said because I wanted the torture to be over. “I have to go now.”
    “Are you okay, sweetheart? You sound like you swallowed a frog.”
    “I'm fine,” I whispered as his fingers stroke a circle around the spot. Then he was pinching it, lightly, then harder. My whole body went stiff because it was too much. All of my thoughts  and feelings zeroed in on what he was doing. And he knew it. Without further ado, he hung up the phone and tossed it across the room, onto the overstuffed armchair. No more distractions. He was tired of playing his power games because he'd already won. One hand found my clit and the other kept pinching my thigh and then I could feel the climax ripping through me, slow like the ripping of a piece of paper. It wasn't violent like a stabbing, but slow and torturous just like the whole morning up to that point. I opened my mouth and let it out, all the frustration. He slammed into me when he heard my strangled cry and he slammed into me again, angling his hips upward, his cock and the plug working in tandem to send me over the edge.
    It felt like bliss and a punch to the face.
    It was worth it. So worth it.
    I had a  smile on my face when he pulled out of me and shoved me over on my side. I was limp and didn't fight him as he untied my hands and slid on top of me. He quickly fastened me to the headboard, tying a complicated knot to keep me in place. He was crushing me but I didn't complain. I just gulped in air and his scent, wanting to run my mouth over every inch of his sweat-moist skin. He pushed me onto my back and slid back between my legs. He kissed me, finally, his mouth brushing over mine and then sucking my lower lips between his teeth. I tilted my head back and tilted my hips for him, submitting in every way possible. I just wanted him. And he wanted me. Nothing else matter as he rode me hard, his muscles going hard as stone right before he came. Then he fucked me through his orgasm and I could feel his come on my thighs, a thick mixture of both of our pleasure spreading all over me. I didn't realize it then that it was the beginning of the end. I didn't realize how quickly it was going to crumble. If I had maybe I would've held on tighter. Maybe I would've pulled him close and figured out how to never let go. But I didn't know. Maybe I could've stopped it, but instead I chose not to see it coming.
    I chose to be a fool.

Chapter Three
     
     
    W e didn't get out of bed for the rest of the day. We drifted from sleep to fucking to sleep to lovemaking and back again. On Saturday, he had me on the dining room table and on the living room rug. I was on my hands and knees until my knees were bruised and scratched raw. On Sunday