Violence (Antihero Inferno Book 3)

by Lily White

  “And now you feel sorry for me,” he breathes out, shame edging his words.

  Shaking my head, I attempt to deny that’s what I’m feeling. I know he’s strong. I know he survived. It’s just that I can’t stand the circumstances of his life and the way they shaped him.

  “It’s easier if you pretend it’s someone else’s story, Em. It helps to imagine another person in that place, to pretend you’re only watching. I promise you, it’s so much easier.”

  A wracking sob rattles through me, but I find the ability to speak. “Is it over?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long did it go on?”

  “Until our last year of law school.”

  I spin to face him. And really, the only reason I’m able to is because I take him by surprise.

  Our breath collides together, our mouths so damn close that we both go perfectly still.

  We shouldn’t be like this.

  But then rules have never mattered to us.

  “All that time?”

  He presses his forehead to mine and nods.

  Seven years after I walked away from them. Seven years that I could have done something to help them endure it.

  I’m so full of anger that I’m practically vibrating, my nails digging into my skin from clenched fists, my teeth grinding together because there’s not a goddamned thing I can do to fix this.

  “Easy there, killer,” he murmurs as he brushes my hair from my face. “It’s over now, and you don’t have to fight this battle for me.”

  Except, I do.

  I will.

  And I am.

  Even if he doesn’t know it.

  It’s a damn good thing everybody believes I’m weak, that they don’t know the violence this man taught me.

  I shut my eyes, but the tears just keep falling. He chases every one with his lips. A hundred kisses to stop my pain, a quiet moment that breaks us both.

  He can kiss me for the next fifty years, and he’d never catch every tear that falls. There’s simply too many of them. A constant, unbearable storm.

  Ezra shifts his weight until my back is on the bed, and he’s almost on top of me, his hand coming up to toy with my hair, our eyes peering through the shadows to tangle and dance together.

  “There’s your first piece,” he says on an exhalation of breath. “In the interest of friendship.”

  I laugh softly at that.

  As if we could ever just be friends.

  We were never friends, not since the night we admitted our secrets.

  I have loved this man to the depth of my soul ever since.

  It only reminds me why this moment is so dangerous. It reminds me that we shouldn’t be laying like this. Shouldn’t be so close. Shouldn’t be touching because I’m not sure either of us are strong enough to stop.

  I thought I was strong enough once.

  When really, I was suffocating slowly.

  Fire needs oxygen to breathe.

  And Ezra has always been that for me.

  “Why are you here?”

  Despite the darkness, I can see the corner of his mouth curl.

  “Well, it was to establish some ground rules, but-“

  “You blew that all to hell already?”

  He half sighs, half laughs. “Yeah.”

  Another few seconds of silence. So many possibilities trapped between us.

  “What are the rules?” I ask instead of dragging him to me to taste everything I’ve lost.

  “We can’t be alone.”

  “Like now?”

  He shifts his weight, and my body buzzes to feel him against me.

  “Yeah, exactly like now.”

  “Okay.”

  Moving his hand, he traces the line of my jaw with a fingertip. All the way down until his fingers brush over my chin and the pad of his thumb presses to my lips.

  I tremble at the feel of it, this silent, secret gesture that is only mine and his.

  “And we can’t touch each other.”

  It takes effort to swallow.

  “Like now?”

  I shouldn’t have said anything. Moving my mouth only allows his thumb to slip between my lips, the pad pressing down on the top of my bottom teeth as his fingers cup my chin.

  The energy I feel roll through him is toxic, yet addicting.

  It’s cold, yet burning.

  Chaotic, yet barely controlled.

  It’s electric and exhilarating as he fights to restrain himself against what we both know he wants.

  “Just like now,” Ezra answers, his words so rough they scrape between my thighs like callused fingers, crawling up my body and over my breasts. They grab my hair and tilt my head back as teeth nip at my neck.

  I can’t think.

  Can’t move.

  Can’t do anything but suffer beneath the memories of what it feels like when Ezra loses control.

  “Anything else?” I ask, my voice so breathless that it’s not even a whisper.

  His hand tightens and pulls my jaw open, his stare locked on my mouth.

  He always does this.

  Forces me to submit to what he wants.

  Teases me by controlling me while also giving me everything I need.

  And although I love the way he leads this dance, I fight him all the same.

  When I bite down on the tip of his thumb, a noise rattles up his throat and through his chest, a soft masculine growl that he makes in response to pain.

  “You sure as hell can’t do that, killer.”

  Still, he doesn’t try to pull away the harder I bite, he only stares at where my teeth are locked down on him, pure, angry lust rolling behind his amber eyes.

  “And I sure as hell can’t kiss you.”

  Yet that’s exactly what he does.

  Just a quick flex of his hand and my mouth is open, our lips hovering together for just a brief second before he snaps his leash and his tongue dives into my mouth to slide against mine, his body moving to trap me in place as his hand shifts to hold my head in place.

  I know better than to fight him. Not that I want to. This kiss is the first real breath I’ve taken in ten long, punishing years.

  It’s not the first we’ve had. Not after what happened at the engagement party. But it’s the first where it’s just us.

  Our souls laid bare.

  Our hearts naked.

  Our emotions so scraped and raw that we’re bleeding for each other.

  And it’s violent, this kiss.

  Feral.

  Such a complete loss of sense and control that all I want to do is strip him of his clothes, ride his body and mark him with my nails down his skin. I want to own him...and let him own me.

  I’m not alone in that thought.

  Every last bit of restraint Ezra had is gone, and his hand fists the front of my shirt to pull me forward.

  His mouth continues its erotic assault as I’m dragged up to kneel on the mattress, our bodies moving together until his posture mirrors mine.

  Damn it, he’s so much larger than me that I feel tiny in comparison, our chests and the tops of our thighs pressed together, the hard ridge of his erection a warning and a promise against my stomach.

  Ezra breaks the kiss, his fingers grasping my hair at the base of my skull to force my head back. His lips and teeth and tongue trail down my neck, biting, licking, kissing.

  I can barely speak beneath the subtle threat of pain in the way he loves me.

  “There should be a rule about this.”

  “There is,” he breathes against my skin, his teeth catching the soft spot at my neck and shoulder that makes me moan.

  “Then what are we doing?”

  “Breaking it.”

  Ezra tugs my shirt up my body, my arms lifting so he can pull it away entirely and toss it off the bed.

  The muscles in my thighs burn from holding this position, but Ezra doesn’t care. He directs my hands to the mattress behind me, forcing my chest out, his knee shoving mine apart so that I’
m fully exposed.

  Still holding my head back, he runs his free hand from the base of my neck, down the center of my chest to my stomach, his voice rough as stone.

  “Beautiful.”

  And then his hand slides lower, his fingers running a soft, teasing trail over my panties, the silk soaked already for him.

  A sound of gritty male approval rattles through his chest as a finger hooks the drenched silk to pull it up and tight against my pussy and clit, his head dipping down to suck the tight tip of my breast between cruel lips and sharp teeth.

  I hiss at the sting of that bite, my hips rolling as he uses my panties to tease my clit, the friction not enough to get me off, but just enough to drive me crazy.

  Releasing my hair, he locks his hand down on my hip to hold me in place, words whispered against my skin.

  “Stay still.”

  I do. Despite the way he bites the side of my breast, despite the shift of his large body as his teeth and tongue travel lower to lick and kiss, nip and mark my stomach.

  It’s pure torture.

  All he gives me where I need it most is the not-so-gentle tug of my panties, the friction pushing me closer to a place where I’ll explode into a million stars, all flickering and flashing as they write out his name before falling away into nothing.

  Ezra’s head lifts again as he tastes and explores my skin, the rough stubble of his cheek a sensual scrape when his lips bite at the skin just below my jaw, his voice a deep whisper against my ear.

  “Tell me to stop.”

  He pulls my panties taut, and I gasp, my head falling back, my back arched forward, my eyes clenched shut, silently begging.

  “I can’t,” I say, refusing what he wants.

  It’s a soul-deep confession.

  Because I can’t say no to him.

  I can’t tell him to stop.

  I can’t deny myself just this one moment, this one breath, this one touch that I’ve needed for far too long.

  That’s the sad truth of this entire screwed-up situation.

  I’m his.

  Since before I promised.

  And even after I walked away.

  His name is branded over every inch of flesh, burned into every muscle, carved into every bone of my body.

  I’m his.

  But I had no choice than to pretend I wasn’t.

  “I’ll still hate you after this.”

  Tears sting my eyes as the silk of my panties is moved aside, the tips of his fingers sliding over flesh that’s overly sensitive.

  “I know.”

  Voice a rough growl, I can hear him fight.

  “Damn it, Em. I’ll still hurt you after this.”

  A tear slides down my cheek as I clench my eyes shut and will my heart to stop pounding.

  “I know.”

  “Tell me to stop.”

  He’s begging, and still I can’t give him what he wants.

  “Please,” I say instead. “Keep going.”

  A heavy breath pours over his lips soaked in frustration, dripping with regret, drowning in the last bit of control he’d regained before he snaps his leash again.

  His fingers sink inside me, and I cry out at the sudden intrusion, my body trembling in place from both need and exertion.

  When I try to move, his grip tightens on my hip to hold me in place, his forehead against my cheek as he watches his hand thrust between my legs.

  Curious.

  Controlling.

  So damn arrogant that he knows I’ll stay in place despite the burning in my muscles, despite the way my arms and legs shake from holding this position.

  It doesn’t escape my notice that Ezra’s still fully dressed while I’m naked. That he prefers me exposed while he takes what he’s after.

  With each hard thrust of his fingers, my body sparks and snaps like a live electrical wire, heat rushing over my skin until I’m scorched beneath it.

  His thumb finds my clit and rubs with cruel, vicious circles as my pleasure expands, and I lose the ability to think, to breathe, to do anything more than accept the waves of sensual violence rolling through me.

  “Yeah, Em, just like that. Fuck, you’re perfect.”

  His breath is hard against my ear, every hard inhale and shuddering exhale, and still he restrains himself, the tension of his body so painfully taut as he continues pushing me to a point where I lose control entirely.

  My body explodes in pleasure and wet heat, a churning, pulsing, consuming chaos that causes my muscles to tighten and spasm, my cunt to grip down on his fingers, undulating and rippling over the rough slide of his thick invasion.

  “Nice,” he whispers, his voice reverent and fascinated, the rough approval in his tone a sharp edge lining that one word.

  He’s about to lose himself to me, to this, to us.

  Ezra is Violence, in life, in mind...in bed. And once this man loses control, he’s a wildfire that consumes without concern for what damage is caused.

  I learned that the hard way.

  Ten long years ago.

  Head dipping low, he sucks a nipple into his mouth, the hand on my waist moving until it’s just fingertips on my lower back, scraping and digging into the tight muscle as he pulls my body tighter against his mouth and marks me with a devil’s painful, biting kiss.

  I can’t stop.

  I won’t stop.

  Wave after wave after wave.

  I’m exploding. Imploding. Expanding and contracting. My world a millions stars all swirling and colliding until his name is rolling off my lips on a breathless prayer, on a sinful song, on a begging plea that he doesn’t let go.

  Coming down is a crash landing, his arm wrapping around me as my muscles give out, and I collapse into a melted puddle of love and lust and need.

  So strong, this man.

  So protective.

  So hurt by the promise I couldn’t keep.

  “It’s like you think I’m done,” he teases, that cruel mouth against my ear as my eyes flutter open, and I take a deep breath.

  A lazy, sated smile tugs at my lips. “I know you better than that.”

  “Yeah, you do,” he growls before reaching behind his head to strip the shirt from his body, the hard planes of his chest pressing to mine as I cup his cheeks with my hands and kiss him slowly, deeply, so fucking lovingly that we both go still for the duration of it.

  Ezra struggles to break free of it so he can unbutton his jeans and push them down his muscular thighs.

  I realize he’s still in his boots, too, but he doesn’t bother with all that, just shoves enough of his clothes out of the way to free his cock, his arm snaking around my back like a steel band.

  Lifting me up as if I weigh nothing, he holds me in place above his lap, my knees spread open by his hips, and my body primed for him. I’m wiggling in his hold, begging him to let me sink down.

  His mouth is against my ear again, his deep voice vibrating through me, wrecking me with each syllable, every movement of his lips, every hot exhalation against my skin.

  “Tell me this is only for me. Lie if you have to.”

  And those accusing words cut deep. He’s claiming me while hurting me. Calling me out for hurting him while also begging me to remember what I promised him beneath the stars.

  And I am only his.

  I am.

  I am.

  I am.

  A hundred times over, I am, but I could never tell him. Never prove it. Never show him just how much I belonged to him.

  Not without coming between him and Damon.

  “It’s only for you,” I breathe out, my body trapped by his steel hold, my heart breaking and bleeding in my chest.

  “Say it again.”

  “Only for you,” I promise with more strength to my voice. “Just you, Ezra. Only you. Please...”

  He goes silent for a few seconds, his arm tightening around me, the head of his cock pushing up between my legs as a tease.

  Voice a low whisper, he shreds my soul apart.
<
br />   “You have no idea how much I wish I could believe that.”

  And then he drops me down onto his cock, the length filling me, the girth stretching me.

  I cry out because it has been so long that my body wasn’t ready for how big he is, my heart isn’t ready for who this is, and my head screams a hundred times over that I hurt this man, that I walked away from him, that he’ll hurt me back when this is over.

  We go still as my body adjusts to him, our eyes tangled together as my hands lock on his shoulders.

  Here.

  Now.

  Like this.

  We can pretend that all the barriers between us aren’t insurmountable and that we are allowed to be together.

  “Only mine,” he whispers.

  I nod my head in answer.

  “Don’t bother promising that,” he says on a grin that is as sharp as the words he uses to cut me open. “I would hate for you to break it again.”

  A tear escapes my eye as he tightens his arm and directs my body over him, helping me ride his cock as I shatter apart.

  It’s a wet, hard slap of skin against skin, a cold fury as he uses my body to get us both off.

  There are no more words, not while we’re kissing like we hate each other, my nails raking down his back, his teeth catching my bottom lip as I’m bounced up and down until his cock is somehow driven deeper than before.

  This is primal. Raw. Utterly and completely instinct driven as we move together like one.

  His breath is hot against my ear, every beat of it matching the way we fuck, his fingers leaving bruises on my hips.

  It isn’t long before another orgasm unfurls inside me, a pressure building low that slowly expands.

  My muscles tense as I prepare for the violence of this explosion and as I cry for the man who’s driving it through me.

  When it takes hold, my mouth falls open on his name alone, my nails digging into his skin and my pussy clenching so damn hard, he curses under his breath while still moving me in a punishing rhythm.

  I explode again into a million tiny pieces, an entire galaxy behind my clenched eyes, my body nothing more than carnal sensation.

  The movement doesn’t stop until I’m liquid again, my cheek pressed to his shoulder as I melt against his chest.

  Pressing a kiss against my temple, Ezra whispers, “You’ve always come so sweetly, Em. I’ve never felt anything else like it.”