He wrapped me around his waist again, this time carrying me from the counter to the hall and slamming me into a wall. It was all rushed, harried. He brushed the hair away from my neck and face in one giant swipe, holding it back and resting his palm against my cheek and jaw. He forced me to look into his eyes, to look at him. He wanted me to see it was him, to understand who was doing this to me. I could see the possessive glint in his eye. I knew he would fuck me within an inch of my life with that smirk. His eyes were so molten I felt my own temperature rise a few degrees, choking the air out of my lungs, setting my blood on fire, forcing me to inhale sharply and audibly. 