I Hate You

I thrashed wildly, pressing my palms against his chest, pushing with all my strength-but his chest was as hard as iron, and would not budge an inch. Humiliation and terror rose in my breast, and I sank my teeth hard into his lips. He uttered a low, muffled groan. The metallic tang of blood-sharp as rust-was instantly between our lips, mingling with the cold, crisp scent of the cedar that clung to his skin. It was eerie, suffocating. I expected him to snap and shove me out of the way in anger. But he paused only for a second. Then the grip on the back of my neck tightened further, and his kiss grew more fierce and domineering-as if he were punishing me for my resistance, and yet as if he were pouring out some long-suppressed emotion that he could no longer hold back. His lips carried a bloody smell. As he tossed and turned, I could sense the surging anger in his eyes and a hint of imperceptible paranoia. At length I could hold back my tears no longer; They dripped hot down my cheeks an