“Don’t talk about my sister like that again.” Her eyes shifted back and forth as she looked into mine, her anger still rampant as if that last slap still wasn’t enough to cool her rage.

I didn’t understand why it mattered what I said. I spoke the truth. Melanie was beautiful, and Raven was garbage. She knew it, even if I never said it again. But I gave her what she wanted. “Alright.”

Her anger dimmed. “Apologize.”

“No. I meant what I said.”

Now it flared up again.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world. By default, every other woman is the ugliest.”

“You said Stasia is sexy and my sister is a pig.” She threw her arms down.

“In comparison. Stasia is a pig in comparison to you too.”

The anger dropped a bit, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

Even in her anger, she was beautiful. Breathtaking. I moved in, watching her step back, and positioned her ass against the bed.

Her hands went to the bed behind her, and she looked up at me with guarded eyes.

I grabbed her hips and lifted her onto the bed.

She smacked my hand away.

My eyes narrowed, and I grabbed her hips and tugged her down, getting her to lie down so I could get her thong off.

She kicked me.

“You want me to stop? Tell me.” I pushed my boxers down and let my hard cock come free.

She continued that vicious stare, but she didn’t say a word. She wanted me—she just wished she didn’t.

I positioned her hips at the edge of the bed before my hips moved between her thighs.

She slapped me again.

My hands reached for hers and pinned them above her head. “Tell me.”

There was only that furious stare.

One hand kept her wrists together, and I directed myself inside her, sheathed in her typical wetness. “Fuck, chérie…” I kept her wrists in place because I liked it, and I fucked her at the edge of the bed, moving into her hard and fast, desperate for her the second she’d slapped me across the face.

She didn’t rock with me, but she moaned against her will.

My eyes burned into hers as I pounded into her slickness, feeling her tighten around me only to purposely distance herself, like she wanted to resist me as much as she could. She didn’t want to give me that satisfaction. But I already took all the satisfaction I needed. This wasn’t a game to me because I wasn’t a man who played games. “Je t’aime, chérie.”

She immediately softened at my words. Her hips started to move. Her moans became louder. And she pulled her hands free from my hold and hooked her arms around my shoulders to bring me closer. “Je t’aime, mon amour…”

My hand reached for her beside me.

Nothing.