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I slow my movements, only to have her glance over her shoulder to meet my gaze with lust-filled confusion, then even worse, pity.
“Sebastian?”
I step back, my limp cock falling free of her bear trap. My self-respect falling even further.
“Fuck.” I yank at my pants, zip, belt up, and prepare for battle.
“Sebastian…”
I can’t play these games anymore. It’s clear she’s far better at pretending than I am. She’s got no heart. No fucking soul.
She turns, reaching out to grab my arm. “It’s okay.”
“Is it?” Her touch seeps under my skin, poisoning my veins. “Do you really think this is okay? From my point of view it couldn’t be worse.”
“You need to rest. We shouldn’t be doing this while you’re hurt.”
“My dick isn’t playing Sleeping Beauty because of my injuries,” I snarl. “Disgust is the only reason I can’t keep it hard long enough to finish.”
She jerks back as if I’ve slapped her. “Disgust? Over what?”
“You.” I hold her gaze, letting the fear in her eyes strengthen me. “Drop the act, peaches. I know you set me up.”