Please don't," I whimpered.The hand on my breast tightened and he shoved his pelvis against me, cock hard and throbbing and angry beneath his jeans."Blaine, stop!" I shouted, and I pushed him as hard as I could.He stumbled back, regained his footing, and the next thing I knew I was on the floor with pain shooting through my jaw. Blaine stood over me, hand hanging in the air like a hawk soars, almost graceful, almost sickeningly elegant as he stared down at me.I looked up, shocked, and touched my cheek."You know, I could be with a thousand other chicks, ones that aren't fucking crazy-ass cunts who live in fucking la-la-land," he growled.Suddenly, he was tugging on my arm, pulling me to my feet, fingers digging into my flesh as I protested. "Instead I have Cecily fucking Larch, useless goddamn poet who doesn't know when to talk and when to shut the fuck up.""Stop," I gasped again.He grabbed my chin, forcing my face to look up at him."I don't want to talk about the fucking baby.
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