by Selena
But I couldn’t do the same for him.
And now this boy is someone else. He’s not a boy who has never tried to hurt me in his life, a boy who has never made me feel scared or unsafe.
He’s breathing hard as he yanks his hand back. A puff of plaster dust sinks to the floor.
“What’s going on out here, you two?” Dad asks, his footsteps thudding in the hall as he approaches.
Royal and I stare at each other, neither of us moving. My heart is racing as he looks from me to the hole he put in the wall as if he can’t comprehend how it got there.
“Nothing,” I say, and I turn and run upstairs, away. I don’t want to see the look on my brother’s face.
I stand in the hot shower and let it wash the tears away. They don’t hurt as much with the water stinging my eyes. I hardly feel them.
When I get out and crawl into bed, I can hear Royal and Daddy yelling at each other downstairs. I pull the pillow over my head and try to block them out, try to go back to hiding the way I always did, as if that can make things go back to the way they always were. I try to think about tonight, to get back the feeling of triumph and exhilaration that lasted the whole time I was with my friends eating ice cream and hanging out at Dolly’s house, as if I could live suspended in her little pink bubble with her.
But you can’t un-pop a bubble once it breaks.
I wish for Devlin’s incessant football throwing that used to drive me so insane. I’d welcome it tonight, and not just because I know he’s not home, that he’s at some party doing who knows what to whatever girl will do it. I don’t care. Any distraction would be better than listening to my family implode.
*
I wake later, my heart pounding. The house is quiet, and no light filters in through my window. I hear a scuffing sound and sit up, my hands fumbling for the light. Images flash through my mind—that imposing older man I saw on the Darling’s porch, a rusty old pickup full of hooting rednecks, Grampa Dolce laughing about killing a man.
Hands close around my legs, groping me through the blankets before I can hit the light. I stifle a scream.
“Shhh,” he whispers. “It’s me, Crystal.”
“Devlin?” I hiss. “You scared the fuck out of me.”
“I hope not,” he says, sliding onto the bed next to me. His arm slides over my body, and he pushes closer, nuzzling my neck. “Because I’m here to fuck that tight cunt until you scream my name like you did earlier.”
“Devlin,” I say, pushing at his chest. All I can think about is that Royal is in the room next door. “You can’t be here.”
“I know,” Devlin says, inhaling deeply, his nose pressed to the nook of my shoulder. “But I can’t be anywhere else. Don’t you think I’ve tried?”
I reach over him to switch on the lamp and catch the scent of alcohol on his breath. Suddenly I’m furious. He wants to come over here drunk and horny, knowing that I can’t say no to him. He doesn’t care what it’ll do to my family, who it will hurt. But I care.
“What do you mean, you tried?” I demand. “What’d you do, Devlin? Fuck some random Darling Doll at your party, get up and walk out? I guess that’s your M.O. Right? And when it turned out she wasn’t me, you came here looking for the real thing because let me guess, I’m so fucking special?”
“Is that what you did tonight?” he asks, sitting up and glaring at me. “Is that where you’ve been? You sure looked like you were ready to get fucked nice and deep when you were shaking that ass around on the field. So if you’re not getting it from me, who’d you get it from?”
“Fuck you, Devlin,” I say. “That had nothing to do with you.”
“Yeah, then why’d you throw your hat in my face?” he asks. “If you weren’t thinking about me when you were rolling your ass like you were taking a dick, then who were you thinking about? If it had nothing to do with me, then who was it about?”
“No one,” I say, turning away.
Devlin’s fingers wrap around my chin, and he turns my face to his. “Or maybe you just like an audience, like we had in the locker room,” he says. “Is that it, Sugar? Is that why you got so wet when I was fucking you in front of the team? You liked it, didn’t you? You’re a little tease. You get off on thinking about all those guys dying to bust you open and fuck you until they can’t think straight. You think you’re so above it all, but you want them to beg, just like I do.”
“You’re disgusting, Devlin,” I say, shoving his shoulder. “Get out of my room.”
He grabs my hand, pulling it down to his lap and holding it there while he grips my chin with his other hand. His cock is thick and hard inside his jeans, and my pulse flutters when my fingers wrap around it. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Sugar,” he purrs. “You can fantasize all you want, but no one can fuck you like I do. You can push me away and go fuck that asshole from Faulkner I heard you were talking to after the show, but you’ll never find a man who can wreck that cunt and make you scream like I can.”
“I wasn’t fucking Chase,” I whisper, heat pulsing between my thighs at his words.
“Good,” he says, his hand sliding from my chin and down to my throat, where he grips me gently this time, the pressure so light it feels more like a caress—or a warning. “I wouldn’t want to have to kill someone I respect. But if he put his dick in you, I’d do it. If I have to follow you around putting a bullet in every guy you talk to until I’m the only guy left, I’ll fucking do it, Crystal. You’re mine, and the sooner you admit that, the easier we’ll both have it.”
“You’re fucking crazy,” I say, yanking my hand from where he’s still holding it in his lap. “You can’t just threaten any guy I talk to.”
He grips my throat tighter, his blue eyes piercing into mine. “I told you, I don’t sleep around,” he says. “I’m not fucking anyone else, Crystal. I haven’t even looked at a girl since I first set eyes on you. So forgive me if the thought of some other guy tasting that sweet cunt, fucking it raw like I do, makes me a little crazy. Consider this a warning. If you’re going to play that game, then yeah, there will be casualties.”
“What the fuck, Devlin,” I ask, jerking back and shoving his hand from my throat. “Why are you doing this? Let me off the fucking game board. You’ve already won. You had me, you broke me, my family is in ruins. We agreed this was over. Now you’re telling me you’ll murder any other guy I go out with?”
“Yeah,” he says. “That’s what I’m saying.”
We sit there looking at each other for a minute. My head is swirling with conflicting emotions. It’s true that I wanted him to fuck me in that locker room. Not for the reasons he said, not because it made me hot, but because they would all know he cared, that he wanted me, that he’d claimed me. He might have shattered me into a million pieces to get there, but I rose from the ashes like a phoenix that day. I triumphed.
I triumphed because he laid claim to me in front of everyone, told the world I was his and no one else could touch me, not even his cousins. I thought I ruined it forever when I told him I didn’t want him. I’ve been aching to take it back, for another chance. And now he’s giving me just that. Claiming me to insane extremes.
But that was a game, and this… This isn’t. Is it?
“Are you fucking with me?” I ask. “Is this your revenge for what I did to you? Or why are you here, Devlin?”
“You’re the one playing games with my head,” he says. “First you can’t get enough of me, and then you don’t want anything to do with me. Then you want me to make you cum, but you tell me it’s goodbye. Then you turn around and do what you did tonight, making me want you. And you tossed me your hat like I’m your man. So what is it, Crystal? What do you want?”
“I want… You,” I admit, my throat aching with unshed tears. “But I can’t have that. So just… Just go.”
“And I want you,” Devlin says quietly, taking my face and turning it toward him again. This time, his grip is tender, his gaze soft but intense. “I don’t fuck
around, and there’s a reason for that. It means something to me. More than it should. I know you kept coming back for more because that was your game, that you wanted to make me fall for you. And you did. You’re the one who won, Crystal. You wanted me, and you got me, and here I am. I’m not going anywhere. You can’t tell me it was all a game and be rid of me. It’s not that easy.”
“Devlin,” I whisper, closing my eyes. His lips meet mine, gentle but firm, commanding mine to open for him so he can taste my mouth, his tongue searching it as if for the hidden clues that go deeper than my words. Is he as fucked up about this as I am? Is it as hard for him to trust my motives as it is for me to trust his?
His tongue caresses mine as he lays me back on the bed, his hand cradling my head. Without breaking the kiss, he pushes my blankets down, settling his body between my thighs. Need builds inside me at the contact, and I tug at the fabric of his shirt, pulling it up his body and over his shoulders. He lifts up for a second to let me peel it off, then grabs my shirt and pulls it over my head. He gazes down at my body, clad only in a pair of white cotton underpants, like I’m more beautiful than anything he’s ever imagined.
“My god, Crystal,” he says, his voice low and rough. “Look at you. Can you blame me for being so fucking crazy?”
Before I can answer, he lowers himself onto me, his warm skin meeting mine. Relief and pleasure wash over me, and I wrap myself around him, greedy for the comfort of his body on mine. He devours my mouth, rocking his hips against mine with every swipe of his tongue. We kiss, and kiss, and kiss, until I’m drunk with it. He rocks slowly against me, the ridge of his cock pulsing against me with steady, dizzying pressure until I can’t hold back. I cry out into his mouth as I cum, ashamed at my inability to hold back.
Devlin moans in response, grinding me deeper into the bed. When at last he pulls away, my lips feel swollen and hot. I arch up against him, my nails digging into his shoulders. I need more, even as my breath is still coming quick and hot.
“Devlin,” I whisper, throwing my head back as his heated lips trace my jawline and move down the column of my throat. “Are you drunk?”
“No,” he says, leaning up on his elbows to look down at me. “I had a couple beers, but I know what I’m saying. I’m one hundred percent yours—heart, body, and soul. And you’re mine, Crystal Dolce. I don’t care who knows it or what happens next. I just know I have to be with you.”
I pull him back down, kissing him like it’s the only thing I’ll ever need. How can he say those things to me, such perfect things, after all he’s done? How can I believe them, or even want to believe them? I only know that I do. That I feel the same about him. In this moment, nothing else matters. There’s just us, and it’s enough, and more than enough. It’s perfect.
He kisses me more forcefully this time, sweeping me up in his consuming passion, thrusting his tongue roughly against mine, sucking and biting at my lips, my chin, my neck. His tongue swirls over my skin as his hands roam over me with possessive roughness. I drink in the desperation in his touch, the thoroughness of his hands as they rake over me, squeezing my breasts, my hips, my ass, pushing between my legs.
I open for him, craving all of it and more. He pulls my panties aside and sinks his fingers into me, groaning against my throat and sending shivers through me. Knowing he feels the same, that he’s as hungry for me as I am for him, electrifies me. I reach for the button of his jeans, undoing it and pushing them down.
Devlin’s ready for me, pressing his hardness into my hand and rasping my name against my neck, sending tremors of desire spiraling through my entire body. I suck in a breath, my knees clenching as I squirm for relief against his hand. I stroke along his length, wanting it so badly I could weep even as I tremble at the sheer size of him, the heat, the way he feels so wild and raw against my small fingers. I can feel his vein pulsing against my palm, but I stop at the ridge around the head, running my thumb over the tip.
“Put it in,” he orders, his voice rough and commanding.
“I’m still sore from today,” I say, my thighs trembling around his hips.
“Get used to it.”
He grabs my hips and rolls us over, so I’m straddling him. His rigid shaft is hot as a fever against my tender flesh. “Lift for me, baby,” he says, guiding my hips up. “Now sink that tight cunt down over my tip nice and slow. I want to feel you take me balls deep in your grip. I’m all yours, Sugar. Every inch.”
I swallow hard and guide him to my entrance, feeling my bruised flesh tighten in protest at the invasion. I press past it, to the ache inside me that wants this, needs it, despite the pain. When I look up, Devlin is watching me take him in, his eyes hooded and glazed with that look of pure, blissful oblivion I love so much. I watch, too, biting my lip to keep from panting at the sight of his cock stretching me open so far, sliding deeper and deeper. Taking my hand away, I sink onto him to the hilt, my thighs tensing at the familiar ache when he reaches my depth.
His hands tighten on my hips, and his gaze meets mine, his eyes burning like the blue edge of a flame. “Ride me, baby,” he says, his voice hoarse with lust.
“I…I don’t know how,” I admit. I feel cold and vulnerable and exposed sitting here on him where he can see me fully. He feels so far away.
Devlin’s eyes darken with something else, and he sits up, pressing his warm chest to mine. It was just what I needed, and at the same time, so horribly intimate that I wish he was lying down again. This is Devlin Darling. Whatever he says, it’s a lie, a trap. I’ve been here, and I know what comes after.
“It’s okay, Crys,” he murmurs, stroking my hair back and circling the back of my head with his big hand. “I’m here for you, baby. Always. I’ll show you. I just need to be inside you again, to feel you like I did before. I want to watch you fall apart, go to pieces for me. It’s the only thing keeping me from falling apart.”
A little thrill goes through me at his words. Because he needs me. Devlin Darling needs me. And it’s not just another ploy. Even if he says so later, I’ll know the truth. I can see it all over his face, in the desperation in his eyes. I can feel it all through his body, in the desperation in his touch. In the way he’s trembling with holding back; in the tenderness in his arms as they cradle me against him.
“What about what you said before?” I ask, my own voice almost cracking with the effort of being still with him now, like this, while he’s inside me. I want to move, want to feel the friction between our bodies build until we both combust.
“What did I say? You should know by now I’m full of shit, Crystal. Don’t believe half of what I say.”
“That I’m better off without you,” I say. “It’s not true. I’m only good with you.”
“That one was true,” he says, lacing his fingers through my hair and cradling my head. “You’re better off without me and you know it, Sugar. I’m no good for you. But I can’t live without you. I tried, and I don’t know how.”
“You’ll never have to,” I whisper, leaning in to kiss him. “I promise.”
“You’ll never leave again?” he asks, his eyes searching mine. His gaze is so vulnerable it tears my heart open along the scars left from the last time, when I broke my own heart by walking away from him. This is the real Devlin Darling, the one only I know, the one who doesn’t want to hurt me any more than I want to hurt him.
“Never,” I whisper, sliding my arms around his neck.
“Good,” he says, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “Because even if you try, you’ll never get rid of me. You can break my heart into a thousand pieces a thousand times over, and I’ll still love you just as much.”
He breaks off, looking as startled as I feel, like he didn’t know he was about to say those words until they were already out. Suddenly, my heart is hammering so hard I can barely breathe. I wanted to make him fall for me, but I never imagined a boy telling me he loved me. It seemed like something that happens in movies.
“You love me?” I ask, my voice choked wi
th emotion.
I expect him to deny it, to shove me off and disappear the way he likes to do when shit gets real. For a second, his eyes get that unreadable look, and I’m sure he will. I tense, ready to lift off him, but he slides both arms around me and squeezes me against him, not letting me go. “I’ve never stopped for even a second, not even when you told me I was just a pawn,” he says, his voice soft and smooth, sure of himself. “I’ll never stop. You’re not just my heart, Crystal Dolce. You’re my soul.”
“I love you, too, Devlin,” I whisper. I link my hands behind his neck, and our eyes meet, and it’s the most intimate, intense connection I’ve ever felt. He grips my hips as I begin to move, never breaking the connection. It’s different this time, something else mixed in with the frantic desperation to claim each other. Now, we’ve been claimed. I am his, and he is mine. I know in that moment that nothing will break us apart again. Not his family, and not mine. He broke me, and I broke him, but nothing will break us.
Because now there is an us. Now, we’re fighting for the same thing. We’re on the same side. I’m no longer trying to pick up all the shattered pieces of myself, the ones Devlin broke and chipped away, and put them all back together somehow. Without him, it’s impossible. Our broken pieces have blended together, mixing until I can’t tell what belongs to me and what belongs to him. They’ll never be separated again. Even if I managed to build myself back up into something close to what I was, there would still be parts of Devlin always with me, little shards of him buried in my flesh, in my soul.
And in truth, I don’t want to be the girl I was. I don’t want to separate our broken pieces, to look at Devlin’s damage and hand it back to him. I want to take those parts and treasure them, nurture them, fit them together with mine. I want to take all our broken pieces and form something new with all of them, both his and mine. I want to form something beautiful, something uniquely ours. I want to put them all back together and build us.
