HHWM | Chapter 16: The Hurt I Crave

Their skin still burned—a persistent ember that refused to die, even after they had melted into one another time and again. Selene’s leg was draped over Greg’s hip, while his hand traced the bare curve of her back. His touch was slow, deliberate, as if he were memorizing every contour, every inch of the woman she had become.

The evidence of their collision was written across their skin: crimson streaks, flushed patches, and the faint bloom of bite marks—silent testaments to how ruthlessly they had claimed each other. Silence filled the room, broken only by the rhythmic friction of their breathing, heavy with exhaustion and residual heat. Neither spoke; they both knew that the moment words entered the room, they would be forced to wake up to the reality they were desperately trying to outrun.

Between them, there was no absolution. No explanations.

Greg stroked her hair with a gentleness that felt like caution, or perhaps fear. Selene closed her eyes, unwilling to let the moment evaporate. She had been gone for so long, lost in a void where the only memories that gave her depth were the ones that hurt. Bitter, sweet, and searing—these were the sensations that made her feel alive. She felt more real, more like herself, when she was with him.

In the darkness behind her eyelids, she felt her own body—slick, used, filled. Greg had been unwavering. He hadn’t been careful; he hadn’t held back. He had taken her and emptied himself inside her over and over, and despite the wreckage, a part of Selene craved that invasion. A toxic pleasure coiled within her.

But they both knew this was a path paved in sin—a fire that hadn’t been extinguished, only reignited.

“Selene…”

She sat up slightly, the sheet slipping from her shoulders to reveal the marks of their union. She pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him.

“I don’t want to hear your explanations,” she said, her voice cold but steady. “You know what I want from you. And if you can’t give it to me… I’ll make sure you lose everything that matters.”

He didn’t give her the chance to pull away. Greg lunged, hauling her back against him until their chests collided. His gaze wasn’t heavy with malice, but it was weighted with exhaustion—a silent plea.

“I just want you to know… I wasn’t happy when you were gone.”

“I don’t believe you,” Selene snapped. She tried to shrug off his arms, but he chased her movement, pinning her in a crushing embrace from behind. The press of a hot kiss against her shoulder was enough to make the rising bile of her anger stutter.

“I might have been free from our sin,” Greg whispered against her skin, his grip tightening, “but I never lost what we shared. You made sure of that. You ensured I could never escape your memory.”

Selene went still. Her shoulders stiffened, but she remained silent.

“When you said you didn’t come back for me… I couldn’t accept that you had turned your back on us.” Greg’s voice hardened, a edge of possessiveness bleeding through. “And when I saw you at the hotel with someone else… I thought I was going to lose my mind. I can’t imagine you doing this with anyone else when I’ve already carved myself so deep into you.”

His hand slid down, finding the space between her thighs. Selene gasped as his fingers began to re-open the path he had already claimed.

“But no matter how much I ache for you,” he murmured into the crook of her neck, “I cannot hurt my wife and child.”

“S-Stop…” Her voice was weak, a flickering flame of resistance. But her body was already betraying her, yielding to the fresh sting and the electric hum he left in his wake. His touch turned from a caress to a command, and in an instant, he surged into her again.

“Ugh..!” A cry of surrender and longing escaped her. She gripped the tangled sheets, fighting the sensation spreading through her marrow.

“I’ll give you what you want…” Greg’s breath was ragged as he forced her to feel every pulse of his possession, “if you promise they won’t be hurt.”

He kissed the nape of her neck with bruising force as the heat consumed them both.

Selene smiled. It was a dangerous, jagged thing, fueled by a secret, ancient rage.

He never changed. He still thought she was that same girl who lived and died by his promises—promises that were never meant to comfort, but were merely wounds that never stopped bleeding.

She let him take her with a violent, impulsive hunger, as if she were a mere object he owned. Each thrust was heavy. Deep. Sharp. He was punishing her, and she didn’t just endure it—she sought it. She chased the pain that felt like a spark, the anger that felt like desire.

Greg withdrew nearly entirely before slamming back into her without warning, without hesitation. Selene’s eyes snapped shut as the shock of him bottoming out vibrated through her entire frame.

She leaned into the wreck of it. She wanted this. She wanted this man. The sting. The ache. The fact that even if he shattered her a thousand times, she wouldn’t yield—because he was the only man she could never truly control.

And that was where the truest hurt lay.

Because while she gave everything—her body, her heart, her very soul—Greg remained elusive. There were no vows. He was a man who could claim every inch of her, yet would never truly be hers.

With every movement, Selene felt it: he wasn’t just stealing her breath, he was stealing the very ground she stood on. As sweat beaded on their skin, a single tear fell onto the crumpled sheets—silent, unbidden, a long-repressed ghost finally finding its way out.