He Hated Me First
He stumbles back with a grunt, crashing onto the floor with a heavy thud.
Larry doesn't stay down. He pushes himself up with a low growl, rubbing his shoulder where he'd hit the ground. His gaze locks onto mine, unrepentant, hungry. "What does it look like?" His voice is rough, edged with something dark and possessive. "You've been responding so well. I was just finishing what we started."
My stomach twists, bile rising in my throat. I yank the sheets up to cover myself, my fingers trembling. "No, we're not finishing anything," I spit. "Not now. Not ever. How the hell did you even get in here?"
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