Ruthless

by Myers, Kelly

“I may be dying,” she whispers with lazy eyelids. “My brain cells are self-destructing.”

  She lets her head fall on my shoulder, and my stomach is in knots. I don’t like this. Her new game is the oldest one in the book, and I completely and utterly loathe it.

  “You’re better than that, Dina.”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m not gonna fall for this,” I whisper.

  “Better start thinking of where you’ll bury me.”

  “Stop it.”

  “I’d rather be cremated. Maybe your men can anonymously leave my ashes at my mother’s doorstep…” she slurs. “She deserves something…closure.”

  I wrap my arm around her shoulder and rest my head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling for a moment. “You need to eat something.”

  “I need to sleep,” she breathes. “Sleep…”

  When was the last time you fell asleep next to someone?

  My eyelids shoot open in the dead of night. The light sensors in the room must have recognized the lack of motion and switched off the bulbs. In terror, I turn to find Dina lying next to me, fast asleep.

  “Dina,” I frantically shake her shoulder. “Dina, wake up.”

  “Wh—What?” she moans for a second before abruptly pushing herself up, sitting so quickly that the sidelight switches on. It’s warm, orange hues wash over the two of us. “What time is it?”

  I check my watch. It’s almost dawn.

  “How long was I asleep?” she asks.

  “A few hours.”

  “How? Where did you go?”

  “I haven’t moved.”

  She rolls her eyes, sharply exhaling. “You're an exhausting man…and you need help,” she hisses.

  “I've spent my whole life with me. Can you imagine that?”

  She shakes her head. “No.”

  “And you don't even know what's inside of me.”

  “I still don't trust you.”

  “You shouldn't,” I scoff, raking my fingers through my hair in silent disbelief that I let myself sleep next to her. “I’m a mad man.”

  “Still, there’s a point in my favor.”

  “What's that?”

  “Why are you still here?” She gives me a suggestive, though apprehensive smile.

  “Really?” I deny the obvious. “You could've come up with a better cliché.”

  “Then get the fuck out,” she enunciates.

  “You're crossing the line,” I warn, slightly shifting to face her.

  “Bring it. I’m dead anyway.”

  “You wish.”

  “Stop trying to scare me. I’ve lost that tendency hours ago.”

  “You haven’t yet experienced the worst of it.”

  “What’s that?”

  I stare dead into her eyes. “Me.”

  When I lean closer, she doesn’t recoil. I almost believe that she wants it, too.

  I push my lips against hers, firmly, my hand at the back of her head as I hungrily kiss her. She pushes me back, but there’s no strength in it, and her lips open to return my kiss. She does want it, I can tell for certain now, and even though she’s obviously exasperated, she doesn’t put much effort into pushing me away.

  We break the kiss, and I look deep into her eyes before she leans in and kisses me again, this time with as much hunger as mine. I can feel her anger beneath those lips, the frustration of want and lust mixed with annoyance and something else I can’t quite put my finger on.

  I push her down, both hands to either side of her as I devour her lips. Her hands grasp my shirt and tug, and her hip involuntarily moves up against me. She breaks the kiss and smirks.

  “Someone’s excited,” she says.

  “Like you don’t want this.”

  She lifts her hands up to show me the chains. “A little help with these wouldn’t hurt.”

  I grab her hands and push them over her head, my breath against her cheek, her neck, her ear, and I whisper, “I like you just like this.”

  In one swift motion, I turn her around, my hands grabbing her pants and pulling them down, followed by the ridiculous blue panties. Her ass stares at me in the dim lights, and I squeeze them hard. She looks back at me, and I expect to see reservation in her eyes, maybe even a hint of fear. Anything that would make me stop. I don’t want to break her, but oh, how I want to test her.

  She smiles at me, though, almost as if daring me to do my worst. The challenge in her eyes is all I need to push forward. I quickly stand and undress, my clothes coming off in fluid motions before I bend down on top of her.

  “Taking you long enough,” she scoffs.

  I nudge her legs open with mine, and without warning, push inside her. The scream that erupts from her is both gratifying and worrisome. A part of me thinks I hurt her, but there’s a twinkle in her eye when she looks back, and my doubts quickly disappear. I pull back and push deeper inside her, forcing another scream as I grab her by the hair and pull her head back.

  My lips caress her neck before I whisper in her ear, “Not so tough anymore?”

  She moans as I slam into her, and she clenches her teeth in a snarl as she looks at me with even more challenge than before. “Do your worst.”

  “Oh, I will,” I say, pushing deeper and harder with every thrust. “I really, really will.”

  A small voice in the back of my head screams a warning, telling me to take it easy, that not everyone can handle what I deliver. But Dina takes it well. So well, in fact, that I pick up my pace and hammer harder inside her. Her pussy squeezes on me, and it only fuels my desires more. She bends her legs, her heels digging into my back as if begging me to move faster, harder. The cold chains distract me, and I pull out of her reluctantly and grab my pants off the floor.

  She turns around, watching as I first unchain her feet and then her hands. I don’t step back, though. I don’t show her that there is even the slightest chance for her to get the better of me.

  She doesn’t care, though. She moves like a cat, quick and elegant, pushing me down and straddling me. In an instant, I am inside her again, her pussy squeezing hard as her eyes meet mine, a smirk on her face.

  “My turn,” she whispers.

  Whatever notion I had that I could break her flies out of the window as she rides me. Her hips grind against me, pushing me deeper inside her as her moans echo through the room. My hands grasp her hips as she rides, faster, harder, giving as good as she can take.

  She suddenly slows down, unbuttoning her shirt and throwing it on the floor behind her. The bra quickly follows, and I sit up, taking one nipple into my mouth after the other, sucking hard, biting, my hands squeezing her ass as she grinds against me. Her nails scratch at my back, and before she can draw blood, I flip her onto her back.

  “There’s more to you than I expected,” I say.

  “Shut up and fuck me,” comes the reply.

  And I have no problems complying.

  My movements are like a piston, slamming into her fast and hard. I grab both hands and plant them firmly above her head as I fuck her. Her breasts bounce as she pushes back against me. I bury my face in her neck and breathe her in, her legs wrapping around my waist.

  I grab her waist and pull her hips off the bed, slamming deep inside her as she screams in pleasure. With both feet planted by my side, she’s giving me the perfect angle to do my worst, and I don’t hold back. My thumb finds her clit, and her body shudders as I play with it and bring her over the top. Her orgasm hits hard, and her legs pull up and try to squeeze shut, closing against me. I feel her shake under me, around me, and I take full advantage of it.

  I fuck her harder, and with our eyes locked, I feel myself come closer. And she can feel it, too. She sees it in my eyes, and she bucks against me as if urging me on.

  I quickly pull out of her and, stroking my cock, explode all across her belly. The orgasm is incredible, and I almost lose myself completely in how absolutely fucking incredible this is.

  I fall down beside her, trying to catch my
breath. I look at her, her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling with her rapid breathing. I grab the panties from beside me and use it to clean her up, and she just watches. I toss it to a side and fall back down beside her.

  Incredible.

  22

  Dina

  As he gets up out of bed and walks away, his eyes don’t meet mine for a second. Instead, he picks up his clothes and clears his throat, strutting toward his usual spot.

  He stands at the opposite end of the room, silently dressing with his back to me. I examine his body in full. A sculpted statue of a god that once existed. Every muscle is defined yet not overly enlarged. His skin is flawless, except for a single scar at the lower end of his left calf.

  I tilt my head, trying to imagine how he cut himself there.

  He busies himself with every detail of his outfit—what a perfectionist. I watch as his fingers dip into the sides, straightening the pockets from the inside. His hands then move to tuck the shirt, thoroughly all-round and perfectly against his taught hips. The belt, smoothly driven through every loop with care. The cuff buttons, done so carefully. Nothing creases. It’s magic.

  Moving upward, he brushes his hair with his fingers and what a sight it is. I can only see the back of his head, but his locks seem to obey his every move. He parts them at the side and fixes them in place.

  No mirror.

  He takes his time.

  Quietly.

  As I watch.

  He sharply inhales, and I hold my breath, pulling the jacket to cover myself up. How did I forget to do this earlier?

  “You have a few hours to make up your mind,” he finally speaks before turning around with an ominous expression on his face. “You’ll either agree to work normally—under the live supervision of our IT guys, of course…or I’ll be hiring someone to do your work for you. A professional whose writing perfectly matches yours.” He cracks his lips into a confident smile. “No-one will ever know.”

  My eyes begin to well up, so I quickly blink. “How long do I have?”

  “Well,” he checks his watch, his expression unreadable. “It is now six-twenty. Someone will pay you a visit at exactly ten o’clock.”

  Someone?

  As he stops talking, I can see the muscles in his jaws clench. Without another whisper, he opens the door and leaves, slamming it behind him louder than ever, leaving tangible vibrations in its wake. They manage to shake me to my core. Or is this the aftermath of what actually happened between us?

  What happened between us?

  Staggered by the notion, I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them, closing my eyes and taking deep breaths that push up my shoulders.

  I can’t believe I let him touch me.

  Oh, it was more than that. He was on me, around me and inside of me.

  The thought makes me tremble.

  Why did I allow this to happen? And how? Was I that tired? It can’t be. He was even more exhausted than I was. And even if…a single word could have been a good start. Why didn’t I protest? Why did I play along?

  A storm rages through my mind, shattering any glimpse of comprehensible contemplations.

  Okay…

  I try to talk myself down.

  He’s a charming man and extremely good-looking.

  That’s not a good enough reason. Are you freaking kidding me? You let him fuck you. That wasn’t lovemaking.

  No, it was fucking. Real, tangible, soul-sucking, mind-shattering sex. But nothing more.

  How did you let this happen?

  I don’t know. I was confused.

  Oh, please.

  Sleep-deprived. Starving. Freezing…and his body was warm. So warm.

  Dina, you’re better than this.

  Oh my God. What’s happening to me? How did he overwhelm me like this?

  Did you want this to happen? Be honest with yourself.

  No. I couldn’t want this any less. I hate him.

  Who are you lying to? There’s nobody else in the room.

  Stop, just stop thinking for a minute.

  I open my eyes and stare at the wall in front of me. The wall by which he stood just minutes ago. His scent still lingers in the room. In the air. On my clothes.

  My God.

  I frantically begin to pat on my arms, my shoulders, my chest…a deranged and unrealistic attempt at ridding myself of his smell. Of cleansing myself of any trace of him. How pathetic.

  So I begin to cry.

  Did you want this to happen? Did you want to fuck Gabriel Palanick?

  Maybe. Perhaps I’m sicker than I thought. How can any doctor help me when I don’t even want to help myself? The man holds me hostage for two days, and instead of attempting to kill him, I sleep with him? What the hell is that? Who am I?

  You like him.

  Why? That doesn’t make any sense.

  Sense? Funny.

  This is counterproductive.

  As opposed to?

  Why would I be attracted to him?

  Because he’s not right in the head, and neither are you. Because, unlike you, he doesn’t try to hide it. He uses it and flaunts it like a magic trick.

  He hides it from the world. Nobody knows intimately enough to reveal any of his quirks.

  He revealed his deranged nature to you. To his employees. And what do you do? You hide it even from your best friend. The man you’re dating now has no idea. The men you claimed to love before—all blind to who you really are and what you truly desire.

  I’m driving myself mad.

  You’re facing the truth…so spill, Dina. Accept it and agree with the notion: You like Gabriel Palanick.

  I admire his commitment.

  That’s a quality you both share. But that’s not it.

  He’s irresistible.

  Wrong. If that very same man hits on you at a bar, you won’t look at him twice.

  Why not? I’m a woman, and I have eyes.

  You’ve been making safe choices your entire life. You’ve never dated a man who looks this good. And do you want to know why? Because you know that his ego would never allow him to change for you.

  Gabriel’s ego is the worst of all.

  But he’s already where you want him to be, don’t you see?

  “The reasons why we’re clicking are just as enigmatic to me as they are to you.”

  His words echo through my mind.

  He used my vulnerability to make rape sound like something else.

  Rape? That’s laughable. You invited him to the bed. You fell asleep next to him. What was that?

  Desperation? A moment of weakness? I felt like I could die, and I needed some human company for a change.

  And when he leaned in? Wasn’t it clear what he was doing?

  I wanted to fight him.

  But you didn’t.

  I couldn’t.

  Couldn’t or wouldn’t?

  I take a deep breath, forcing the pounding in my chest to slow down. My fingernails dig through my arm as I try to feel something—anything—other than the shame that’s plaguing me.

  Couldn’t or wouldn’t?

  The question poses itself and multiplies over and over in my mind, revolving and bouncing against the walls of my skull like radioactive atoms waiting to blast.

  And perhaps they should.

  Wouldn’t it be nice for my head to explode right about now? Painting the walls with my brain and blood, leaving Gabriel to his untouched plans…leaving the world to its miserable state…leaving—

  Couldn’t or wouldn’t, Dina? It’s imperative that you answer this.

  Why?

  It just is. You’ve always trusted me, and now it is more vital than ever. Are we looking at rape here, Dina? Focus?

  Wouldn’t.

  Right…

  I could have pulled back and screamed. I could have yelled, asking him what the hell he was doing. I could have smacked his hand away, slapped him across the cheek, pushed him with both hands. I could have done a dozen things, but I
chose to do…nothing.

  Seems like you wanted this.

  Looks that way.

  I can’t believe my own thoughts, so I shake my head in utter and overbearing bitterness.

  Okay…why?

  Tears roll down my face as I flop down on the mattress, burying my head into the sad, solitary pillow.

  Why? Why? The question nags as a headache surfaces, making it harder for me to resist.

  It’s because he’s making sense. Because I get him. Because he gets me. Because I can’t explain the chemistry. Because I’m only human.

  Because he’s beautiful…

  I continue to weep, the soft cotton absorbing my tears the second they come in touch. Just like Gabriel absorbed my entire being the moment I was in his arms.

  Even if I wanted to, I can’t possibly get any work done. What will I write? What do I have to tell the world? What can I say for myself? I need help. Divine help. Professionals have failed me. Medications only made things worse.

  God? Are you out there?

  My stomach hurts to the point of tears, and soon I lose track of why I’m crying. With my arm across my belly, I press harder, feeling my insides retreat under the pressure.

  The stain on the white fabric grows wider by the second, and I watch it in awe, lost in a meaningless moment that distracts me from what I’ve become.

  What have I become?

  If only Armin can see me now. Or Derek, poor Derek who still trusts that his boss stands for something. What would he say if he heard that she just made love to the enemy?

  It was fucking.

  Whatever…technicalities.

  It matters what you believe because from this moment on, you’re going to be honest with yourself. It was only fucking, wasn’t it?

  It didn’t feel like anything I’ve ever experienced. Not with Daniel… or Peter…and most certainly not with Michael.

  Oh, Michael. I wonder what he’s doing now? I just cheated on him, and what’s worse? With the man, I claimed to loathe for weeks.

  Don’t be so hard on yourself now. You’re only human, after all.

  What did I think was going to happen? That he was going to fall in love with me and let me be free? There’s no way out of here. I know that now.

  He sounded quite authentic back there, don’t you think?