Chapter Seventeen
Idon’t think my body has ever been louder than it is in the silence of the car. My teeth are chattering, my blood rushes in my veins, and my heart is beating so violently I can barely hear the other two.
Fabian…
Fabian is…
Fuck.
Fabian is here.
I don’t understand it. It’s like there’s a fog making it impossible for my brain to comprehend what just happened. Rationally, I know exactly what’s going on; Fabian bought his way into my world and put himself in a position of pure power. Irrationally, my brain rejects the idea. Scoffs and tells me it’s not possible. But not only is it possible, it happened.
“Was his name really Fabian?” I ask again, hoping beyond belief that Sawyer is going to look at me with a smile and tell me “gotcha.”
“That’s what he said,” Sawyer replies, his tone as strained as the veins on his arms.
Despite the turmoil in my mind, I can’t stop looking at him as he sits there, bare-chested and tense and so handsome it’s hard to look away. Since I’m still shaking, he gave me his suit jacket and shirt to cover me. And since I didn’t have the words to explain I’m not freezing because it’s cold, but because I’m scared to the very marrow of my being, no amount of fabric will make me warm again.
The one thing I remember the most from living with Fabian and being his wife is how cold I always felt. Even during the hottest summer day in Rome, I’d be cold all the way into my bones. No amount of sun or Roman baths could heat me up. I didn’t feel warm again until my uncle took my deal and granted my wish; saving me from Fabian’s cruelty.
“Goddamn it, Lucia. What can I do?” I turn my head sluggishly, just in time to see Sawyer punch the steering wheel. “We’ll be home soon. Just hang in there. Please.”
His words don’t make a lick of sense to me right now, so I just look at his many tattoos. His upper body is completely covered, but I’ve never really looked at them. As my eyes slowly trail up to his neck, I almost jump in my seat. That can’t be…
“Is that a wolf?” I lean closer, my eyes locked on the animal resting on his neck.
“Really?” he barks. “That’s the first thing you say, and you want to know about my tattoo?”
I roll my eyes. “Is it?”
“Yeah,” he replies. “Got it years ago. When I was eighteen, I think.”
Without meaning to, I reach out to touch it. Sawyer’s skin pebbles under my fingers, and I once again feel his eyes on me. It feels intimate, more so than any time he’s been inside me. Which is weird, but also oddly… nice.
“Why a wolf?”
He shoots me a strained smile. “Because I wasn’t emo enough to get a fucking butterfly.” His words make me want to smile, but I don’t. I don’t know how to. It’s like I’ve forgotten how to use the muscles in my face. So I just sit there, doing and saying… nothing.
When we arrive at Sawyer’s place, he tells me to stay put. I watch him summon the elevator and place his shoe in the door so it can’t close. Then he comes back to the car, opening the passenger side door, and lifts me into his arms. I snuggle into him, breathing in his unique scent while he carries me with my head resting on his chest.
I’ve never paid much attention to how he smells, but right now it’s all I can think about. It’s… everywhere. Sawyer’s scent envelops me like a warm embrace, a blend of sandalwood and fresh pine that tingles my senses. Beneath the earthy notes, there’s a hint of leather, adding depth to his fragrance. It’s a comforting aroma, masculine yet soft, drawing me in with its subtle allure. Every time I catch a whiff of his cologne, it’s as if I’m transported to a tranquil forest, lost in the rugged beauty of nature and the promise of adventure that Sawyer embodies.
Jesus, my mind is basically waxing poetry about his smell.
The elevator dings and the doors slide open, revealing the inside of Sawyer’s apartment. Even though this isn’t my first time here, I feel like I’m seeing it through fresh eyes. Previously, I never paid much attention to how bright and open the place is. Whoever the interior designer is, they’ve done a great job. It’s just the right amount of stylish and homey, without being too much of either.
I know I shouldn’t focus on trivial things like Sawyer’s smell and home decoration, but the way my mind is latching on to any distraction makes it impossible to let it go.
“Who decorated your home?” I ask as I take in the paintings on the wall.
Sawyer gives me a curious look, like he isn’t sure why I’m asking. “My mom did.”
“Is she—” I stop talking when he presses a finger against my lips to silence me.
“I don’t want to talk about her.”
Right, we don’t talk. Knowing what comes next, I wiggle until he puts me down. As soon as my feet touch the carpet, I shrug his shirt and jacket off. Then I unzip my dress and let it pool around my feet. Since I’m not wearing any underwear, I stand naked in front of him.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Sawyer asks, incredulously. “Why the hell are you getting naked when you’re so cold?”
I stare at him, uncomprehending. “Your rule,” I whisper, reminding him.
He scoffs angrily and rolls his eyes. “Fuck the rules, bunny. All I care about right now is getting you warm.”
Now that he’s mentioned it, I realize I’m still shaking. Not as bad as before, but still enough for him to notice it. I sigh and look up at him. “I can’t get warm as long as Fabian’s around.”
“You do know him.” It’s not a question, but I still nod. “How do you know him?”
“I-I can’t tell you.” My voice cracks, and tears form in my eyes. I blink rapidly, refusing to let them fall. Though it’s been a long time, I still intend to keep my promise to myself about not allowing Fabian to be the reason for more tears.
Sawyer swallows harshly, and I can’t stop looking at his Adam’s apple as it bobs in his throat. “How about we get you into a warm bath, and then you can tell me… at least something.”
Before I can answer, he picks me back up and carries me to his spacious bathroom. I feel a little ridiculous as he sits me down on the toilet while he fills the tub that’s big enough for three people. The splash of the water is soothing, and I feel even more relaxed when the scent of eucalyptus reaches my nostrils.
I eye the fancy glass bottle holding the green liquid. The smell itself isn’t feminine by any means, but the bottle doesn’t seem like something a guy would buy. If it’s leftovers from some puck bunny, I’ll fucking lose my shit. Tonight’s not the night. I don’t care if we’re only faking our relationship—our marriage. I still want the respect, even if it’s faked.
When I look up, Sawyer’s watching me with an amused grin. “What made you look so murderous all of a sudden?”
“Who does that belong to?” I ask, pointing at the bottle.
“Me,” he answers. His brows furrow together. “Why?” Before I can say anything, he throws his head back and roars with laughter. It’s so infectious the corners of my lips turn upward, twitching into a semblance of a smile.
I raise an incredulous eyebrow as I perch on the toilet lid, naked and… I don’t even know, while Sawyer stands nearby, his eyes crinkled with laughter. “What’s so funny?” I remark, my tone laced with disbelief.
Sawyer’s lips curl into a playful grin as he leans against the bathroom counter, his gaze fixed on me. “You’re jealous,” he replies, his voice tinged with humor.
I scoff, my eyes narrowing. “Jealous? Of what?” He doesn’t need to know he’s right. It’s an irrational and ridiculous feeling—one I have no right to harbor, one I definitely won’t own up to.
Sawyer chuckles softly, the sound warm and infectious. “Sure thing, bunny,” he quips, his tone making it clear he doesn’t believe me at all.
I huff and pointedly stare at the bathtub. “Can I get in now?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he rasps, his eyes trailing all over my naked body as I stand and allow him to help me into the massive tub.
I moan softly as I lower my body into the water. It feels amazing. While we were talking, I forgot all about feeling cold, and now, well, I don’t feel cold at all. The hot water is like a soft blanket cocooning me, warming me from the inside out.
Once I’m comfortable, I lean my head back against the edge and look up at Sawyer. He’s grinding his teeth while looking at me like he wants to either fight or fuck me. “I don’t really have any other bath products,” he explains, sitting down on the edge of the tub. “This is the shit Coach wants us to use for our muscles.”
Oh… now I feel a bit stupid for jumping to conclusions. I close my eyes, soaking up the warmth, loving the way I can feel it all the way into my bones. When I open my eyes again, Sawyer has lowered himself so our faces are almost touching. I let out a surprised gasp, but don’t look away. The longer we stay locked like this, the less cold I feel. That’s when I realize it’s not the water chasing away the dreadful feeling; it’s Sawyer.
Sawyer Perry, of all people, is the one to make me feel better. Huh, I guess life really has a sense of irony after all, considering how many times he’s made me feel like shit.
“Aren’t you getting in?” I barely recognize my voice. It’s all sultry and low, like I’m trying to seduce him with my voice alone.
“Do you want me to?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow.
Feeling suddenly shy, I bite down on my bottom lip and nod. Then I proceed to ogle him, which is a complete contradiction since I don’t hide the way my eyes caress his body while he first removes his shoes, pants, and then… wait, when did he put his shoe back on after using it to keep the elevator doors open? I shake my head, that’s so not the right thing to focus on as he gracefully steps into the tub.
“Move forward,” he rasps before sitting down. I feel him move and shift behind me, making himself comfortable. Sawyer palms my hips and pulls me back, so I’m nestled between his long, muscular legs. His hard-on prods me in the back, and I wiggle my ass against him. “Ignore that for now.”
“What if I don’t want to ignore it?” I ask, slightly breathless.
“I want to talk, bunny. Really talk.” He tugs at my hair until I relent and lean back against him. “We’re married for fuck’s sake, and if tonight’s taught me anything, it’s that we know hardly anything about each other.”
Taking my hand, he lifts it into the air, his fingers gracing the Russo wedding band heirloom. It looks simple enough if you don’t know what to look for. It’s gold, with the letters S.P.Q.R. engraved, and at the front there are two white diamonds, symbolizing the eyes of the wolf. I know Fabian recognized the design when he saw it. Shit… he knows… he knows I’m married to Sawyer. For the first time, I’m scared of what this will mean for my husband.
Fabian is bound by the laws of our family, and he isn’t allowed to interfere. But he obviously doesn’t give a shit about that since he’s now a sponsor for the Sabertooths. I wonder how long he’s been here, watching me… shit. Oh no, the things I accused Remus of… sending the weird presents and painting my door. Fuck. It wasn’t Remus, it had to be Fabian, I was just too stupid to see it.
And just like that, the coldness returns. Not as much as before, but enough that I feel it seeping under my skin. A part of me considers reaching out to Remus to ask if he’s told Fabian about my marriage, and… it doesn’t matter. I fought so hard to get away, and I won’t let myself be roped back in by asking our Don to interfere or for an update.
“Lucia,” my husband growls, reminding me I’ve just been sitting here, too lost in my thoughts to speak.
“I don’t want to talk,” I say, almost petulantly. But dammit, I don’t want to. Not even a little. Because right now, I’m not sure I can filter myself enough. So if I start talking, I don’t think I’d be able to stop.
“Because you don’t trust me.” There’s no accusation in his tone. “And that’s fair. But I trust you.”
“You do?” I gasp, surprised by the revelation.
He bends so his lips graze the shell of my ear. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re playing your part well and making me look good even when you don’t have to. You’re living up to your end of the deal.”
Well, when he puts it like that, I do sound like one helluva catch. “But you don’t know me,” I insist.
I’m not sure why I’m trying to talk him out of trusting me. Gaining his trust is exactly what I need, and what I’ve tried to achieve. Yet it doesn’t sit right with me that he’s declaring it when I’m lying… maybe not lying, but I’m definitely not being honest, and I am going out of my way to play the situation to my advantage.
Deciding to give him something, a small yet poignant truth, I say, “That guy from the interview… John is… well…” Shit, I don’t know how to explain this. Maybe I just need to rip off the Band-Aid. “It was Fabian. He was the one who asked about me being honest at the interview.”
“I figured,” he says. “Your reaction tonight was worse than at the interview, but pretty damn similar.” Sawyer runs his big hands up and down my arms in a soothing motion while he licks and kisses his way down my neck to my shoulder, then back up again.
My skin pebbles, and I do my best to hold back any sounds, giving away how amazing it feels. “Do you, umm, have any follow up questions?” I don’t know why I’m asking that. But a part of me feels like I should open the door, allow him to ask any questions he might have.
“I know enough,” he finally says. His hand snakes down my body until it rests perfectly on top of my brand. “I know you’re loyal.” I shiver as he moves his hand down, down, down. But to my disappointment, he doesn’t touch my pussy. Instead, he trails his fingers over the scars on first one thigh, then the other. “And I know someone has taken advantage of you.”
Tears pool in my eyes as I choke back a sob. Sawyer has noticed a lot more than I’ve given him credit for. The intensity in his voice is like a current, threatening to pull me under if I let it. “The same can be said for most people,” I say. My voice cracks, so I clear my throat before continuing. “No one can survive without loyalty, even if it’s just to themselves.”
Sawyer presses his hand tighter against the brand on my hip. “And who are you loyal to, sweet bunny?” he asks.
“Myself,” I retort. This time, my voice holds steady, making my answer strong and almost unyielding. I stiffen, feeling defensive when I feel him nodding. “I wasn’t always like that, Sawyer. If you’d met me before… well, just before, you would have seen how much I cared about other people.”
I don’t know why I’m justifying myself to him, of all people. The only reason I have is that I don’t like him thinking of me as a completely selfish person. I mean, I am… but for some reason, I don’t want that to be how he sees me.
“I know what it’s like not to have anyone to be loyal to,” Sawyer rasps. He leans forward, bending me like a rag doll as he reaches for the tap and turns the hot water back on. “Sometimes it’s not about whether we’re loyal or not, but whether we have anyone in our lives that deserves our loyalty.”
Hmm, that’s… profound. Not something I’d expect to come out of his mouth. “You have your team,” I say. “You’re loyal to the Sabertooths.”
“They’re my family,” he replies. “So yes, I’m loyal to them on and off the ice. But they’re also the only family I have.”
“And your mom,” I say, almost on a scoff. Then I slap my hand over my mouth, immediately regretting the words. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought her back up.” He did say he didn’t want to talk about her, and as someone who doesn’t want to talk about my family, I should respect that.
He chuckles. “No, you shouldn’t have. But you’re right. I have my mom. Except, she’s nothing to me, and I’m even less to her.” Try as he might to hide it, I can hear the underlying hurt in his voice. It doesn’t sound fresh, but more like it’s something he has carried around for years.
“My mom is my blood,” I say, deciding to give him the tiniest bit of information. “But she’s not family. She hasn’t been for years, and she never will be again. If the Sabertooths are your family, I guess Gail is mine.”
“That’s your roommate, right? The one you’ve taken with you to most games?”
I stare up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the way my heart hurts. I miss Gail, and nothing feels the same without her. “Yeah, that’s the one,” I breathe.
“Why wasn’t she with you the other night?”
“Because I fucked up.” Now it’s my turn to bleed my emotions everywhere. My voice betrays the pain I’m carrying around. I’m sure Sawyer will find a way to use it against me at a later date. Yet I don’t regret saying it.
I don’t know what it is about Sawyer. The more time I spend with him, the more I wonder what it would be like if he knew the real me. If we’d met under different circumstances. If, if, if… I let out a wistful sigh and squeeze my eyes shut. Ifs and buts don’t matter. This isn’t a fairy tale where a genie can give me a do-over. It’s life, and there’s only one direction; forward.
As though he can sense my inner turmoil, Sawyer holds me tighter. His hands aren’t seeking my pleasure spots, he’s just… caressing me in an assuring way. It’s both unsettling and just what I need. I rest against him for a beat longer, then I stretch my leg and use my foot to turn the tap back off. The hot water is like a cocoon, keeping us in this moment of bliss where nothing can hurt us.
I’m half asleep when Sawyer asks, “Are you ever going to tell me about Fabian?”
My body reacts on instinct, and I sit up, ramrod straight. I hide my trembling hands between my thighs, squeezing them between the skin he marred. “Absolutely not,” I hiss. Then I realize that was the wrong reaction; the worst, in fact.
“He’s the fucker who cut you.” Sawyer’s tone has dropped several degrees, making it practically icy. Since it’s not a question, I don’t answer. “Tell me it wasn’t him,” he growls.
Since I don’t have a reply, I jerk forward and rush out of the bathtub. Then I reach for the closest towel, and wrap it around me. “Who it was or wasn’t isn’t any of your business, Sawyer,” I seethe. “I appreciate that you took care of me tonight, and I’m glad to know you’re not a complete jerk. But none of that gives you a right to my secrets.”
His nostrils flare, and when he stands, his hands are clenched at his sides. Despite the anger brewing between us, I can’t tear my eyes away from his body. This man… Jesus. The statues back in Rome have nothing on Sawyer’s chiseled, rough, unpolished beauty. Yeah, he isn’t merely handsome—he’s whatever the male equivalent of beauty is.
“What did you just say?” His tone is deceptively low, sending shivers down my spine. Not of fear, like with Fabian, but with… excitement.
“I said—”
He waves me off. “I fucking heard you, bunny. I’m giving you the option to take it back before it’s too late.”
Rather than heeding his warning, I shake my head stubbornly. “I said what I said,” I retort, lifting my chin like a bratty teenager instead of the almost twenty-eight-year-old woman I am. When it comes to Sawyer, I can’t help myself. He’s awakening a side of me I’d long since forgotten ever existed. “I’m not your fucking toy.”
He throws his head back and laughs loudly. “Aren’t you, though?” When he steps out of the tub toward me, I instinctively take one back. “You gave your body to me, bunny. That very much makes you my fuck toy. And since you were never specific about your terms, I also happen to think that whatever happens or happened to your body is my business.”
“No,” I croak, sensing where he’s going with this.
“Yes,” he says, taking another step closer.
My heart thunders in my chest, as I give up on holding the towel together and spin around. I dart out of the bathroom so fast I almost trip over my own damn feet, but I manage to right myself at the last minute.
“Where are you going, sweet bunny?” he calls after me. I ignore his taunting voice and focus on avoiding the furniture in his dark living room.
I don’t even know why the hell I’m running, or what I think I’m going to get out of it. I’m stark naked, which means I’m confined to this apartment. It might be big, and have rooms I haven’t even been in yet. But that doesn’t mean it’s too big to find me. It’s only a matter of time before Sawyer catches me. We both know it.
“Lucia!” Sawyer sounds less amused now. “Stop fucking running and behave like a grown ass adult instead of playing games.”
“I’m not playing games,” I squeak. Fueled by a stubborn need to get away, I try the door next to the guest bedroom I’ve slept in.
To my surprise, it opens and I dart inside. Now what? The room is nothing like the one I’ve been in. Sure, it’s another bedroom, but it’s so much more… I don’t even know how to describe it. Personal? Yeah, I guess that’s it.
On the wall hang pictures of what looks like a family. Mom, Dad, and… oh my God, is that kid Sawyer? I move closer, running my fingers across the frames. They all look so happy. One picture is of the woman and man watching as a small Sawyer rides his bike. I wonder if it’s his first time riding it by himself?
“You have no right being in here.”
I let out a bloodcurdling scream and spin around so fast I feel dizzy for a second. “Don’t do that,” I scold.
Sawyer quirks a brow and stares unamused at me. “Don’t do what? Don’t go snooping in your home? Oh wait, that’s you and not me.”
Ignoring his admonishing tone, I shake my head and explain. “No. I meant, don’t sneak up on me.” As my breathing calms down, I consider what he just said. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go snooping…” I scrunch my nose in distaste at the word. “… I only tried to get away from you.”
When Sawyer moves behind me, I feel it more than hear it. He’s like a magnet, and my body is ready to obey him in every sense of the word. My mind, however, is fighting to stay clear of the erotic fog that seems to take over whenever we’re together. Especially when we’re naked, which we both are.
“Lucia—”
Although I like the way he pronounces my name, I interrupt him. “Are those your parents?”
Sawyer moves closer, not stopping until his hands are on my hips and his hardness nestled in the crevice of my ass. “Yes.” His hot breath fans across my shoulder.
He bites down on my shoulder. It’s not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to make my back arch, pushing my ass against him. “Sawyer.” My voice is all breathy and low.
“Those pictures are some of the few memories I have of us being together as a happy family,” Sawyer says. It’s hard to focus on his words when he tightens his hold on my hips and grinds against me. “I don’t think my mom was cheating yet. But she did not long after.”
His words clear the fog from my brain. “Y-your mom cheated on your dad?” I ask. I don’t know what’s shocking me more; finding out that this is like some kind of shrine to a time that’s long gone, or that he’s opening up, sharing with me.
“She did,” he confirms. His voice is gravelly and his breathing ragged as he grinds harder against me. “For years, until he finally had enough and left.”
“Oh shit,” I mutter as something clicks together in my head. “That’s why you punched that guy, isn’t it? Because he accused you of cheating.”
“I don’t fucking cheat. And I don’t fuck anyone who’s married.”
Well… shit. Now I definitely can’t tell him about Fabian because judging by how hard he’s gripping my hips and the tone of his voice, fucking a married woman is a hard pass for Sawyer. One he wasn’t aware he was breaking, but I was. I consider telling him the truth, but then I shut that shit down fast. Sawyer is my ticket to freedom. Even if I’m slowly growing a conscience, I can’t allow it to change anything.
Sawyer grunts in annoyance when I turn around, and when I see the look on his face, I kind of wish I’d stayed with my back to him. He looks… haunted. There’s no other word for it. I stretch and wrap my arms around his neck, adding pressure until he bends so I can fuse our lips together. He kisses me like he fucks; hard and so demanding, he starts a fire in my lower stomach.
I jump and wrap my legs around him. “Take me to bed,” I murmur. His hands squeeze my ass cheeks, holding me in place while he carries me back to his bedroom.
As soon as we enter the room, he walks over to the wall, so it’s at my back. We’re still kissing, and I’m gyrating my hips so his cock slides between my pussy lips. When he breaks the kiss and puts some distance between us, I don’t open my eyes. I’m too scared I’ll see the haunted expression on his face.
“Look at me,” he commands. I shake my head. “Fucking look at me when I’m speaking to you, bunny.”
My eyes flutter open. Our gazes lock; his dark one on my green orbs. It feels as though time stands still while we look at each other, locked in something unspoken that I’m not sure I understand.
“Do you want my cock inside your cunt?” he rasps, moving one hand between us so he can swirl my clit around.
“Y-fuck.” A moan bubbles up my throat as he adds more pressure, working my clit like a pro.
“Answer me, bunny.”
“Yes… oh God. Yes. Please.”
With each swipe of his finger, it becomes harder to think. Harder to focus on anything but the pleasure growing inside me.
I whine in protest when he stops and removes his finger. But as quickly as he stopped, he angles the fat tip of his cock against my drenched opening. “Say please.”
“I already did,” I huff, frustrated and so damn horny.
“Mhmm, I know. I love it when you beg. So I’m not fucking you until you tell me how much you want me inside you.”
“Please fuck me, Sawyer,” I purr. He shows his approval by sliding the tip inside. “Don’t stop until I feel my pussy stretching around your big cock. I want… fuck. I want—” Sawyer slams all the way inside me, effectively rendering me speechless.
I moan as my pussy does just what I said I wanted, and I feel it stretching to accommodate Sawyer’s huge dick. I pant through the burn, relishing in the exquisite pain that quickly morphs into pleasure.
“That’s it, wife. Open up for me so I can fuck you deeply,” Sawyer groans. “Fuck. Your cunt is so tight. Relax.”
I try to answer, to tell him I’m as relaxed as I can be, but the words are a garbled string of nonsensical noises. He moves his hand between us so he can touch my clit again. With each flick, I become more boneless. My moans grow louder and louder until he finally stops teasing me with his shallow strokes, and bottoms out inside me with every thrust.
“Sawyer!” I scream his name as my pleasure skyrockets, sending me hurtling over the edge and into an intense orgasm.
“Fuck! Bunny!” He punctuates each word with a thrust. “I love feeling you come on my dick.”
I’m too far gone to master the art of speaking, so I just look up at him with a goofy, satisfied grin on my lips. Christ, the orgasm he doles out should be illegal with the way it leaves me unable to control myself. I’m pretty sure that if he asked me about my past now, I’d spill every dirty secret without blinking.
Sawyer doesn’t pause while I recover. If anything, he fucks me harder. I can feel the brick wall dig into my back, but I don’t move or shy away from it. Knowing that it’s scratching my skin because of what we’re doing makes it delicious.
Wanting Sawyer to feel what I’m feeling, I run my hands down his shoulders to his back. Then I dig my nails in just as he thrusts deep inside me, touching that magical spot that has me crying out his name in sweet agony-filled pleasure.
“Fuck. Wife,” he groans. “Harder.” Doing as he says, I scratch him harder. “Fuuuuck!”
I can barely breathe with how full I am. My senses are working on total overload, making it hard to think. Good thing I don’t need my wits about me for something as basic as what we’re doing.
Sawyer moves his hand around my throat, and just like earlier tonight, he robs me of the ability to breathe. I know I should panic, yet I don’t. It makes me fly higher, makes my pleasure reach higher than ever before. As darkness settles around me, he groans my name and paints my insides with his cum.
“Come for me, bunny.”
Again, my body obeys him and I scream his name while fighting the need to pass out. As soon as he lets go of my neck, I take in air, greedily gulping it down in huge gasps. Despite my sore pussy and throat, I feel better than I think I ever have before. I feel free and… powerful.