The Starkest Truth (A Breaking Insanity Novel Book 2) by Courtney Lane Read Free Book Online

deepening. “If I couldn’t fuck you daily, I think I might lose my goddamn mind.”
    I rolled my eyes, fighting against a simper. “Like anything else, it can be permanently damaged.”
    “I know what I’m doing. You’d be surprised how resilient it is. It is designed for giving birth. It will heal.”  
    He should’ve said designed for pleasure, but he brought up another subject.
    His eyes darted to mine, gauging for a response to a topic we continuously argued about. It was something he went to great lengths to ensure would happen before I thwarted it in a way he hadn’t yet discovered. I persistently evaded the truth and hoped he believed my fib about getting off my birth control pills.
    “Not today, Eric,” I retorted beneath my breath.
    “Tell you what, stop pissing me off and I won’t have to fuck you so hard. Get your ass out of bed and get dressed.”  
    My reaction had obviously ignited his short fuse.
    Glimpsing at my purse on the writing desk, I recalled taking the last of my emergency stash. “Write me a script for meds. Or use your connections, because I’m aware you have them, to get me something to calm me down. It’s the only way I can get through the day.”
    He blotted his face with a white terry cloth towel and applied aftershave. Turning to me with his eyes heavy, he walked in my direction. Standing before me, he lifted my chin, preventing my distracted state induced by the sight of his perfect naked form. “You know better than to ask me for drugs you never should’ve taken in the first place.”  
    “Can I ask you for something else?” I queried with a toothy grin. My hand slipped down to touch the beautiful appendage hanging between his legs.
    Lifting a brow in slight amusement, he caught my wrist harshly, hurting me with the intensity of his grip. He sucked his breath in a way that made my legs buckle. He reached up with his other hand and grabbed a hold of my hair. Stuck in his darkening daze, I caught a hint of mischievousness in his eyes. He loosened his grip on my wrist, slowly bringing my hand up to his lips and biting the pads of my fingertips.
    “I have something for you,” he said, directing me to stand and forcing my body to crash against his. “Something I found in the middle of marching around Midtown Manhattan, in the middle of the night, looking for you. Get in the bathroom and get that round ass ready, Nik,” he ordered, yanking my hair and snapping my head back. “Fair warning. If your pussy feels sore now, it will be done for if you piss me off again.”
    “Are you going to tell me what the surprise is?” I asked, straining to swallow.
    He let go of my hair and snatched the sheet away from my body. “Are we ever going to get past this? Your body is beautiful.” He grabbed my waist and directed me toward the bathroom. “More beautiful now that you eat. Show it to me.” He cupped my behind before giving it a hard smack.  
    The twenty pounds I gained when I was at Parkland, a mental health facility, stuck with me. Eric made sure of it. He made the meals and monitored how much I ate, or set my phone with annoying reminders to make sure I didn’t forget to eat when he wasn’t around.

    An hour later, my hair and makeup done, sans clothes, I stepped outside the bathroom.  
    In a black tuxedo that appeared to be cut specifically for him, Eric sat back on the bed, propped up by his elbows. Watching me through his dense, curly eyelashes, he frowned at the sight of the white terry cloth towel wrapped around my body. “Lose the towel, Nik,” he requested, the gravel in his voice a bit more emphasized.
    I grumbled, but allowed it to unfurl, almost permitting it fall to the floor. The compulsive neat freak in him eyed me like he was going to bend me over his knee if I didn’t place it back in its proper place.  
    He took me in purposefully, pausing at his favorite parts of me and moistened his bottom lip.  
    Upon turning to hang up my towel, the black box he