Hold Me, Then Hurt Me
When I opened my eyes again, I was pinned against the floor-to-ceiling window of the skyscraper by my stepbrother, Rocco. The man I had been infatuated with for a decade.
He panted, his hot lips and tongue trailing along my collarbone as he murmured, "Don't go."
In my past life, on the night I received my acceptance letter from London Business School, Rocco got blind drunk.
Late that night, I gave in to his pleas for me to stay. I willingly gave myself to him.
After a debauched night, his cherished fiancée, Clara, caught me walking out of his room the next morning, my clothes in disarray.
She ran out in tears, her parting words ringing in the air, "I'll let you have each other."
A mont
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