“That is exactly what I’m saying. Look at yourself right now, for example. At the tiniest hint of criticism you lose the plot, raging at me like a teenage girl. Have you not matured enough to conduct yourself as a lady? Have you no sense of decorum?”
Oh, the little shit. “You’re not living in the 18th century anymore, Ethan. Women are actually allowed to speak their minds nowadays. And if I want to lose the plot, I’ll lose the fucking plot. I treat people in a way that mirrors how they treat me. So if I’m raging at you like a teenage girl, maybe that means you’re criticising me, oh and calling me a whore, like a teenage boy.”
Before the last word has even left my mouth Ethan has picked me up and flung me against the cave wall. His mouth practically obliterates mine, his tongue plunging inside without tenderness, all he gives me is hard passion. He pulls back a little to look at me. I’m finding it hard to breathe.
“Fuck, the only way to shut you up is to stick my tongue down your throat,” he swears, before shoving his hand inside my coat, under my top and bra. He squeezes my breast to the point of almost hurting me.
“Get off me,” I hiss.
“No. You want this just as much as I do,” he says, his hand moving from my bare breast, down my stomach and slipping inside my pants. Before I know it he’s shoving his fingers inside of me. It’s a pleasurable invasion and I cry out.
But he’s wrong when he says that I want this. This is absolutely not what I want. I don’t get off on being forced or hurt. I enjoyed being with the Ethan who took me into his bed and touched me with gentle reverence. What’s happening now is so far away from that I feel like crying.
With his hand still inside me, he uses the other one to push up my t-shirt. His tongue licks up my stomach and takes one of my nipples into his mouth. He bites down on it, hard.
My heart is hammering and I’m sweating with unexpressed rage. Deep in my stomach my magic surges through me and seconds later I’m shoving my hand into his gut, bright sparks flying from my fingertips.
Ethan practically jumps off me, slapping at himself to get the burning sparks away from him.
“Why did you do that?!” he shouts.
“I told you to get off me and y
ou wouldn’t.”
“You burned me,” he says, pulling his t-shirt away from his skin to reveal angry looking red marks.
“Yeah, I did,” I reply, unapologetic.
He runs a hand through his hair and visibly tries to calm his temper. A few moments later he seems to come to his senses and he apologises, “I’m sorry. I went too far.”
“Way too far, Ethan.”
He turns away from me and his fangs spring out as he bites down on his own wrist. He smears some of his blood onto his stomach and the red marks instantly heal up.
“Oh, attractive,” I comment with derision.
“If you allowed me to bite you, you would find the sight of blood on my skin extremely attractive,” Ethan shoots back casually. His flaring temper has died down to an ember.
“Ha!” I spit out, all high pitched. “I’ll never let you.”
“We’ll see,” he says, pulling his t-shirt back down and strolling out of the cave.
“Where are you going?” I call in annoyance.
He stops and turns back. “To bring the car to the cave entrance. I have no intention of sitting out here with you all night. At least in the car we’ll be more comfortable.”
As if I’d be able to feel comfortable alone in a car with Ethan. I’d probably be safer staying in the cave. A minute or two later his headlights illuminate the space before he shuts them off. I walk out and Ethan flings open the door on the passenger side.
“You’ve probably destroyed your tires driving over all the rocks,” I comment.
“They’re replaceable,” he replies. “Get in.”
I hesitate and look back at the cave. You can see right inside from where Ethan has parked his car. If Edwards and my dad do turn up before daybreak we’ll spot them right away.
“Only if you promise to behave yourself,” I say, unable to disguise the quiver in my voice.
“I won’t touch you again,” says Ethan, without feeling.