Forty 2 Days (The Billionaire Banker) by Georgia le Carre Page B

rough sex and I didn’t like it.’
    I am shocked by the intense flash of burning jealousy that rips through me.  He has already done this with someone else.  There is no new territory that I may claim for my own.  ‘Maybe I do.’
    His eyes narrow.  They become like stones.  Cold.  Unreachable.  They remind me of his father’s eyes.  I shiver involuntarily.  Feel afraid.  What if I am wrong?  What if he is capable of really hurting me?  ‘What do you know about rough sex?’
    ‘ Show me what there is to know.’
    ‘ Is that what you really want?’ His voice is soft, dangerously soft.
    ‘ Yes.’
    His hands come up to my face.  I cannot help it. I flinch and he smiles.  A cold, knowing smile.  Gently he brushes my cheeks with his hands.  ‘You’re a baby.  You don’t know what you want,’ he says, and he is about to turn away when I swing my arm with all my might and let my palm crash into the side of his face.  I hit him so hard his head jerks away, and my hand is stinging painfully.  The alcohol has made me strangely light-headed.  I even feel removed from my own actions.  I stare with dull fascination at his cheek, at the white imprint of my fingers.  My eyes travel to meet his.  They are stormy and furious.
    ‘ Feeling better?’ he asks.
    As an answer I swing my hand clumsily out again, but he is prepared this time and he catches my hand easily.  I rush towards him and bite his neck.  Hard.  His growl is annoyed.
    ‘ You inherited all this money so everybody treats you like some kind of god, but you’re just a little coward hiding behind a façade of superiority; a spoilt rich kid who has to do anything and everything Daddy tells him to do.’
    He begins to laugh, really laugh, and suddenly I realize I have never seen him happy.  Never seen his head thrown back and his throat open and vulnerable.  
    ‘ I wonder what you would be without great-granddaddy’s money?’ I taunt.
    ‘ I’d still want to fuck you senseless.’
    ‘ Fuck you,’ I shriek and as if possessed by some crazed demon I begin to kick at his legs and punch his hard body with my free hand.  Like a sack of potatoes I am lifted up by sheer male strength and thrown over his shoulder.  For a moment the shock of being turned upside down stills me and then I continue to pummel his back as he takes me into our bedroom.  ‘You don’t trust anyone, you don’t love anyone, you’re just an emotional bonsai,’ I scream.
    He hurls me on the bed.  I fall on my side, winded but unhurt.  My head is still, but fuck me, the room is spinning around like a merry-go-round.  Still, the important thing is I have lost all fear and apprehension.  My only goal is to goad him into losing that tight control that dictates his every move.  I look at him, my eyes taunting him.  ‘Scared of a cunt, Barrington?’
    His head jerks slightly with surprise.  ‘You really want rough sex?’ he asks.
    I nod.
    His mouth twists.  He unbuttons his shirt, yanks the ends out of his trousers.  Opens his fly, flings his underpants behind him and takes a step to the edge of the bed.  
    ‘ Here it is, my love,’ he grates.  
    In one smooth moment he hauls me up, catches the hem of my long dress and flicks it over my head.  He stands looking at me, upper body and head covered, but lower body obscenely sprawled with garters, stockings and inelegantly splayed legs.  Then, before I have even recovered my balance, he grabs my hips, his fingers digging painfully into my flesh, and brings me to my hands and knees.  He grips my ass and very roughly spreads apart the cheeks, kneading them as if they are two pieces of dough, and drives his dick into my wetness, so savagely that I actually cry out with the shock of it.  That stops him cold as if he too is shaken by the ferocity and violence of his own thrust.
    ‘ Don’t stop,’ I hear myself say, in a voice I do not recognize.
    And he slams again into me.  This time he does not stop