Saving Liberty (Kissing #6)

by Helena Newbury

  “This is only the beginning, Sylvie. I’m going to fuck you and fuck you and fuck you. Understand?” He slowed his thrusts, punctuating his words with them, his lips drawn back into a grimace as he fought for control. “Do...you...under...stand?”

  The heat was twisting and thrashing inside me, making my whole body quake. “Yes!” I managed. God, I didn’t want anything else. I’d escaped. In my mind, I’d escaped my whole shitty life with Rick and The Pit and Alec’s injuries. I’d escaped and found paradise and I didn’t want it to ever end. We’d find some room somewhere and lock the door and never come out again.

  He sped up again, his powerful ass flexing, his thighs driving him into me, so hard and long and thick. I could feel it start and I dug my fingers into his back. Then it was on me and I was grabbing for him, clawing at him, wanting to wrap his whole body into me as the orgasm crashed through me in waves. He kept going, extending it, and only slowed to a stop when I lay still.

  I took stock. I was panting and gasping, the echoes of the orgasm still ringing in my head. He was moving inside me just a tiny amount, the way men do when they’re still ready.

  He was still ready.

  I put my hand on his shoulder, marveling at its strength. “I need to go on top,” I said, my voice weak and croaky.

  And need was right. I needed to move. Lying there like a ravished maiden was great, but now I needed to show him how I felt about him.

  He rolled over onto his back, frowning a little at the hard concrete and then giving me an apologetic look, like, Oh wow, is this what it was like for you? And I smiled.

  I threw one leg over him, straddling him. He looked up at me and I had a moment of panic as I realized I was opening my legs wide, right in front of him, in broad daylight. It felt weird, feeling the air blowing through the little curls of hair, feeling it cooling the wetness there. Weird, but wonderful. Because he was looking at me with such an expression of pure, undiluted lust that it chased all my fears away.

  I knelt with a knee either side of him and put one hand on his chest, unable to stop myself running it over the smooth expanse of his pec. I began to slowly lower myself, using the other hand to bring the throbbing head of him to the lips of my sex. When it touched me, I couldn’t help staying there for a moment, just running it back and forth over my folds. He groaned good-naturedly and raised his hips, thinking I was teasing him. But I just wanted to feel him there, so hot and alive and ready.

  I sank down on him, closing my eyes and arching my back as he spread me wide and plunged into me. It felt different, now I was the one in control. Bigger, almost—I could feel every inch of him. Wonderfully big.

  I slid right down onto him until our bodies met and began to pump myself on top of him, using my legs to power me up and down. His hands went to my waist and he started to help, lifting me a little, but I shook my head. I pushed his hands away...and then pressed them down to the concrete. It was comical, my little hands against his huge wrists—he could easily have batted me away. But he didn’t. He just grinned up at me and played along—for now.

  I started to fuck him, bouncing up and down, sliding my body along that magnificent cock. Sitting up, I knew my head might be visible above the wall—we’d edged closer to it, when we rolled over. But I didn’t care. If someone passing in the street glanced up and saw us, let them watch.

  I put both hands on his chest, smoothing them over his muscles as if I was sculpting him. His cock was silk and iron inside me, filling every part of me on each in-thrust, leaving me empty and aching as it slid out. I could feel my shins and knees grinding against the roof—God, I was going to have bruises tomorrow. But I didn’t care about that, either.

  I sped up, arching my back as the pleasure built and built, feeling the sweat trickling down my spine, feeling it wet on his chest. And now he reached for me, unwilling to be passive any longer. He filled his hands with my breasts and started pinching at my nipples, making me buck and shake atop him. He drew me down into a kiss. My hips went frantic as I fucked and fucked him while he tongue-fucked my mouth and stretched my nipples just enough to—

  The climax rocketed through me and exploded. I let go of his chest and grabbed his head, pulling myself closer, gasping and panting into his mouth. My hips pressed hard against him, mashing our groins together. I clenched and spasmed around him and felt his first hot release, followed by another and another. He growled and broke the kiss and bit at my neck as he shot into me, bucking his hips upward so hard he lifted both of us.

  And then he slumped down and I slumped on top of him, stretching my legs out. We were both soaked with sweat and aching and probably bruised from the hard roof, and we didn’t care at all.

  We lay there for a long time, letting the sun dry us, neither of us wanting to think about practicalities like where all our clothes had wound up. I lay with my head on his chest, the warmest and most comfortable pillow I’d ever found in my life. I never wanted to move.

  “You’re in me, Sylvie,” he muttered at last. “In my head. In my feckin’ soul. I need you.”

  I put my arms around him and hugged him tight. “I need you, too,” I whispered.

  “I don’t think I can hit you again,” he said.

  I pressed my lips tight together. All I wanted was for both of us to walk away from all this. To be two normal people in a normal relationship. Why couldn’t we have that? What had we done so wrong, that we deserved this instead?

  But being normal wasn’t an option for us. “You have to,” I told him. “You have to hit me...and more. You have to get me ready. Or I’ll die in The Pit.”

  He went silent for a long time, his arms tightening around me. But eventually, he nodded.

  ***

  It was only when we’d showered and got into our street clothes and I checked my phone that I found the message. Sent an hour before, just as we were finally breaking down the barriers between us.

  It was from Rick. He wanted me to come to The Pit that night.

  It was time to meet my opponent.

  Aedan

  I needed someplace quiet to talk to Sylvie, so I sprang for a cab to take us to The Pit. In the back seat, I held her hand and pep-talked her.

  “It’s not a fight,” I said. “Not really. More of a preview. You’ll go a round or two, but no one wants anyone to get badly hurt. It’s just a chance for the crowd to see who’s coming up in two weeks, so they can start placing bets.” The last two words made me sick to my stomach. Rich suits, throwing fistfuls of hundred dollar bills at the unlicensed bookies, betting on who would walk away. Betting on my angel.

  She’d never looked more beautiful. The sunset was streaming through the windows of the cab, bathing everything in fire. She looked so small and fragile, sitting there in her tank top and sweatpants. She’d been so nervous, I’d had to remind her to bring something to put on over the top, because it would get cold once the sun went down. Now she clutched the hooded top in her hands, scrunching the fabric between them.

  “It’s normal,” I told her. “Rick does it whenever it’s a brand new fighter.” So why hadn’t I seen it coming? I felt like an idiot. I was meant to be preparing her for all this and I’d completely missed it. I’d been too busy laying her down on the damn rooftop.

  Our whole relationship had just seismically shifted and, thanks to Rick, we didn’t even have time to talk about it. Maybe that was for the best. I never was much good at talking.

  I quit beating myself up long enough to think about tactics. Should we pretend she hadn’t been training? Lull them into a false sense of security? Rick knew me. If he saw me, would he guess I’d been training her?

  Should I stay away, so that Rick didn’t suspect? Part of me thought I should. Another part wondered if that was just an excuse, and I just couldn’t bear to see her get hurt.

  No. No way. I couldn’t leave her alone now. I was going to be there, every step of the way.

  And there was another reason to be there. I’d come up with a plan, somethi
ng that might just get Sylvie out of the fight altogether. It was the last thing I wanted to do, but if it saved her from fighting...

  I squeezed her hand and she smiled at me, hiding her fear.

  I smiled back, doing the same.

  Sylvie

  It was a smaller crowd, but meaner. The hangers-on didn’t get told about events like this. Only the hardcore, the ones who bet serious money, got the discreet text message telling them there was fresh meat to view.

  I took a deep breath and walked towards the door, trying to look nonchalant. But The Pit had never been a welcoming place for women and what happened to me last time I was there made it even harder. Stepping out of the twilight and into the dark, warm interior was like stepping into hell...especially since I’d soon be heading down to the lower level. Nothing like that’s going to happen this time, I told myself. Except that, in some ways, this would be worse. My near-rape was something I could be saved from. This fight—that Aedan reassured me wouldn’t involve me actually getting hurt—was something that had to happen.

  I was hoping I could pass unnoticed in the crowd, hoping that everyone would presume I was just the girlfriend of some spectator until the actual fight. Everything, I realized, would depend on whether Rick had hinted to the audience what would be different about these fighters. If they knew they were coming to see women….

  It was obvious as soon as we neared the balcony around the pit. Heads turned, as if they could smell my feminine scent. A sort of rumble went through the crowd, expanding outward from where Aedan and I stood.

  He put an arm around my waist and pulled me closer.

  I could see their eyes eating me up. Wondering if I would be the victim or the victor...and, from their sneers, the answer seemed obvious. Had they already seen the other woman? Or did I just look so weak that I’d crumble before any opponent?

  There was another look, too. The one I’d been aware of before, but that held new fear for me after last time. That hungry, male look, so different to the looks Aedan gave me, even when he was fucking me. It was a look with no warmth at all, no interest in my happiness or my pleasure. It was a look that stripped off my clothes and spread me open.

  Legs shaking, I let Aedan lead me downstairs.

  Rick was there with Al and Carl, his two bodyguards. He looked to be in a good mood, his cane shining extra-bright as if he’d polished it specially.

  And behind him, leaning against a wall, was a woman.

  I don’t know what I’d expected. A six foot Amazonian, maybe, like some barbarian queen minus the broadsword and armor. Or maybe an Asian kung fu expert all dressed in black. But she was nothing like either of those.

  She was about the same height as me. In places, she looked thinner. In others, she was carrying more muscle. She had long brown hair in dreadlocks and skin as pale as mine. I frowned, trying to figure it out. Rick would have wanted to find someone to destroy me. Had he gone to the semi-pro circuit? She looked ripped, but not in an athletic, glowing-with-health way. Or was she the girlfriend or even sister of someone else who owed him a debt—my counterpart? What if she had some powerful reason to win, too? What if one of her loved ones’ lives depended on it?

  “Sylvie,” said Rick with a cat-like grin. “Meet Jacki.”

  I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do. Shake her hand? I gave her a tentative smile. She scowled at me.

  I looked down at what I was wearing—sweatpants, sneakers and a tank top. I looked as if I was ready to get in the ring. Jacki wore jeans and a t-shirt. She didn’t look like a trained fighter. What was going on?

  “I had some trouble, finding someone for you to fight,” said Rick, as if he’d done us a huge favor. “Had to really dig around. But then someone suggested Jacki and all my problems were solved. Jacki was happy to come down here and hand your ass to you for cash, and a shot at the winner’s bonus. Weren’t you, Jacki?”

  Jacki spat on the floor. “Bitch, you better not start crying the first time that pretty face hits the floor. We gotta give people a show.”

  And then I saw the gang tattoos on her neck and I understood.

  Aedan stepped forward out of the shadows. “This is supposed to be boxing,” he growled. “Bare knuckle boxing. Not feckin’ street fighting.”

  Rick turned. “Aedan?” His face went through a complex series of emotions. Fear. Anger. Suspicion. It was the first time I’d ever seen him really shaken. His bodyguards stepped forward protectively. What the hell’s going on? I knew that Aedan used to be a fighter and I’d figured out that Rick used to manage him, just like he managed Alec. But this was something else—the relationship between them was a lot more complex.

  And then Aedan said something that made me forget everything else.

  “I’ll fight,” he said. “I’ll fight instead of Sylvie.”

  Sylvie

  For once, Rick and I both had the same reaction. “What?!” we both said at the same time.

  “I’ll fight.” Aedan pointed at me. “Instead of her. Call off the girl fight. It’ll be me against whatever guy Alec was going to fight.”

  Rick seemed to relax a little. He’d looked scared, before, but the balance of power had subtly shifted, now. “You’re fucking her,” he muttered, glancing at me. “Interesting.”

  I saw Aedan tense up. I realized Rick now had leverage over him. But why was Rick so scared of him in the first place? What had happened between these two?

  “I’ll fight!” Aedan snapped. “Me instead of her!”

  Rick glanced between us, considering it. My heart jumped into my mouth. Had Aedan been planning this, without telling me? Was it possible Rick would accept? The idea of Aedan in the pit, with some thug pounding at his face, made me sick. This was my problem—I couldn’t let someone else take it on for me. But I’d be lying if I said that there wasn’t a small part of me that prayed for Rick to say yes. This whole nightmare could be over for me in a heartbeat.

  “No,” said Rick. “Tempting, but I don’t have anyone I could put up against you. You’d beat the hell out of anyone I could get.” Then he grinned. All his usual confidence had returned. “Besides, it’s good to try new things. You’ve had your day. It’s time to try women. The crowd seems pretty excited.”

  Aedan glared at him. “You fecker! It’s not right!”

  Rick shrugged. “Wasn’t my idea. It was Sylvie’s. Anyway, times change. Women are always saying they want equality. Well, here it is.” He grinned a crocodile’s grin at Jacki and me. From her sneer, I suspected she felt much the same way about him that I did.

  He stalked out into the pit, brandishing his cane, and the crowd roared. Aedan pulled me away from Jacki and into a corner. His whole body was rigid with tension.

  “What was that?” I demanded. “You were going to take my place? When were you going to tell me?”

  He stared at me angrily. “I don’t want to see you get hurt!”

  We glared at each other for a moment and then I softened, seeing the worry in his eyes. His plan hadn’t worked, anyway, so it was irrelevant. And I loved him for trying. I put my arms around him and hugged him close.

  He squeezed me back. Then I felt the tension return to his body and he whispered in my ear. “This is bad,” he said. “I’ve been teaching you boxing. She’s used to handing out beat downs in the street. It’s going to be dirty.”

  He sounded worried and that scared the crap out of me. “OK, so...what do I do?” I looked up into his eyes, ready to absorb as much as I could as fast as I could.

  “...I have no idea,” he said at last.

  “What?”

  “I never fought a woman!” he snapped. “If it was boxing then it doesn’t make any feckin’ difference—a woman’s just like a smaller man. But she’ll fight like she fights on the street. That’s completely different.”

  My heart was suddenly pounding. This was much, much worse than anything I’d prepared myself for. I might as well not have trained at all. Out in the pit, Rick seemed to be coming to the end
of his speech. We had seconds. I started to panic-breathe.

  Aedan grabbed my shoulders. “OK, look. If it was a man, he’d try to bite and gouge. So keep clear of her teeth and be ready to block her when she scratches at you. And a man would try to knock you down and pin you so he could finish you off, so stay on your feet.”

  “Okay,” I said breathlessly.

  “It’s not all bad,” he said. “She probably hasn’t been trained. She’ll be undisciplined. Unbalanced. Keep your guard up and look for a weakness. Remember you’re an out-boxer—keep your distance.”

  “Okay,” I said again.

  In the pit, we could hear Rick giving it everything he had. “From the mean streets of New York City!” he bellowed. “Raised by a junkie mom and a deadbeat dad, she started selling her body at fourteen. She beat up girls who tried to steal her turf and now she lays down the law in a gang. Jacki!”

  I saw Jacki roll her eyes and wondered how much of that story Rick had made up. But she stalked out into the pit to huge cheers.

  “Just stay focused,” said Aedan, rubbing my shoulders. “Don’t panic. Don’t drop your guard.”

  “And from the Upper West Side!” Rick yelled.

  What? I wasn’t from the Upper West Side. Even when Dad was alive, even when Mom was alive, we were still poor.

  “She was society’s it girl,” Rick told the crowd. “Pampered and privileged. Sent to a Swiss finishing school to learn manners, where rumor has it she fucked half her male teachers. Then to Harvard, where she studied law...”

  The crowd growled. Everybody hated lawyers.

  “But then she fell from grace!”

  The crowd roared their approval.

  “Unable to resist the bad boy charm of her very first criminal client, she eloped with him...only to be dumped by the roadside. Disowned by her wealthy family, desperate for money...now she’s here!”

  The crowd went wild. I exchanged disbelieving looks with Aedan, feeling sick. Not only had he made up a ridiculous story for me—and probably for Jacki, too—but he’d set her up as the underdog and me as the wealthy, snobby girl who needed teaching a lesson.