Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

I put my hands on his stomach, holding in my sobs as he
threaded his fingers through my hair, bringing my head in
close. Bending down, his breath falling across my lips, he said,
“On your back, Winter. Do it.”
And then his lips caught mine, biting, and I kissed him
back, letting his tongue sink into my mouth and feeling the
need for him course through my body.
But instead of lying down, I pulled back, touched his face,
and pleaded with him as he caressed my cheek with his thumb.
“Just let me go,” I told him.
And he growled, throwing me off.
I cried, scooting away from him on the bed as he stalked
around my room.
“Let me go,” he mocked me, repeating my words. “Why
can’t you shut up? Why can’t you all just shut the fuck up?”
“I will hate you if you do this to me,” I fought. “I’ll
despise you and never stop trying to escape you, because I
could never love you. Because you’re sick, and I hate the way
you make me feel! I could never love you.”
A clutter went crashing to the floor, and I knew he’d
shoved everything off my dresser.
But I didn’t stop. “And I hate myself around you,” I told
him, saying anything to hurt him. “I hate what I let myself do
with you, because the only way I can get you away from me is
to get it over with!”
“That’s not true,” he bit out.
I climbed off the bed, facing where his voice was coming
from. “You’re such a little boy. A child who can’t control
himself. A disease!”
More went crashing to the floor, and I heard my mirror
shatter in his little tantrum, but I only grew stronger.
“So come on,” I dared him. “Fuck me. Do the only thing
you know how to do, because it’s all you can take from me
anyway, and I don’t give a shit about any of it! Take the house.