She knows

"How could you?" Ask Carrie, so sad and broken that each word carries a world of hurt. "Why would you do this to me?"

"Do what?" You manage to maintain your act of pretending, even as the gears of your brain begin to grind and place everything together. She knows. About you. About Jill. About everything.

"Don't!" She yells. "Don't lie to me."

You don't know how to react, what to say. It's all suddenly stops being fun and games. The damage is real. The pain and the betrayal. You realise just how much you've hurt Carrie and you feel ashamed. More importantly, you hate the part of yourself that loves it.

"I want... I want you to leave! It's...It's over between..." Her voice keeps breaking and trailing off, like she can't find the strength to muster the words. It's destroying her, tearing at her very soul and making her sick. She can hardly breathe and you can't help but enjoy it.

Fighting the urge to smile with sadistic glee, you instead try to comfort her. Your hand gently strokes her soft brown hair, only to see her go tense, becoming rigid as hatred and anger fuels her heart. You stroke her again and it melts, replaced by self hate as she leans into your touch and cries at how easy it is for you to make her feel better.

You then grab hold of her and pull her in for a hug. She starts sobbing into your shirt, bawling her eyes out about how much she can't help but love you.

"Take your clothes off." You command. 'I'm going to fuck you now."

"What?" She ask, astonished that you have the nerve to demand sex now. "No! Are you kidding me?"