All He'll Ever Be

by W Winters

  “Of course, I want to fuck you,” I tell her in as calm a voice as I can manage. My gaze slips down to her curves and I have to force them back up to see her doe eyes back on mine as she scoots farther back on the bed. She’s searching for comfort and safety, but all she’s doing is making me want to pursue her.

  I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “The second I saw you, I wanted you.” My confession comes out a whisper and the memory of her weeks after that night happened years ago flashes through my mind. I had to know the face of the angel who’d saved me. If only she had known then what she was doing, if only she’d known I wasn’t worth saving. The hate and love I’ve had for her has warred for years within me.

  Silence separates us for a moment. And then another.

  “Just get it over with,” she breathes the words but doesn’t look up. The tone of defeat rings false.

  “Is that because you want me too, but you don’t have the courage to admit it?” I dare to challenge her and again that anger comes back full force.

  “Fuck. You.” She leans forward as she says each word, practically spitting them. And the rage and defiance only make my cock more eager to thrust deep inside of her.

  “You will, little songbird.” Lust pumps through my blood as she inches back on the bed yet again, her gaze fixed next to me as if she’s watching my every move but doesn’t want me to know it.

  That only makes the hint of a smirk on my lips grow.

  The chair scoots back as I stand and the sound of it scratching the floor frightens Aria. She sits up a little straighter, a little stiffer and watches me with wide eyes as I take two steps closer to her.

  “You want to get it over with?” I ask her as I reach for my belt. I want her to see how hard I am for her. And teach her a lesson.

  My belt slips through the loops of my pants, leaving the sound of leather brushing against the fabric to sing in the air. My blood is laced with adrenaline and lust as I watch her breathe heavier and faster.

  The metal of the buckle clinks on the ground as it lands and then I unzip my pants. A flush travels up Aria’s chest and into her cheeks.

  “Come here,” I give her the small command with the bit of breath left in my lungs as I grip my thick erection through my pants and she watches. I swear her lips part and her thighs clench as she watches.

  Her wide eyes dart from my cock to my eyes.

  “Come here,” I tell her again when she doesn’t move. I know she wants me. Maybe not like this, but I have to show her what power she has. Until she submits, all she has is power over me. “Get down on your knees in front of me,” I add and palm myself again. “Aria.” Her name comes out hard on my lips, but dripping with sin and desire as I add, “I fucking want you.”

  I don’t miss the small gasp from her lips as she hesitates another second.

  I watch every small change in her expression. From how her nails dig into the mattress, to how her body tenses and makes the bed creak as she inches forward as if she’s going to listen to me. She swallows so loudly I can hear it as she slowly climbs off the bed. She stands on weak legs before dropping slowly in front of me, down onto her knees.

  My pulse quickens but I don’t know how. All the blood in my body feels like it’s in my dick.

  “If I leaned down and shoved my hand between your thighs,” I ask her, holding back a groan from the thought, “how wet and hot would your cunt feel right now?”

  Her eyes widen, and she leans back, but with the way she’s seated, with her knees under her, she can’t lean back far without being off balance.

  “Do you know what it will feel like when I finally shove myself deep inside your tight little cunt?” I ask as my dick pulses with need and I have to stroke it once more.

  She breathes out heavily, nearly violently and avoids my gaze.

  “You’re going to scream my name like your life depends on my mercy.” I stroke myself again and again. Fuck, I’m so eager for her touch my dick is throbbing so hard it hurts. “I won’t show you mercy, Aria, I’m going to fuck you like you’re mine to ruin.”

  She whimpers and struggles to remain still in front of me. Her thighs clench as I kick the chair behind me, so I can crouch down in front of her.

  Her hazel eyes are wide and filled with desire.

  “I want to give you everything,” I whisper as I lean forward, letting my lips trail along her jaw. A ripple of unease runs through me as I realize the truth in those words.

  She shivers, and I watch her nails dig into her thighs. “You have to tell me what you want, and when I ask you how badly you want my cock, you better tell me the truth.”

  I pull away, letting my fingers trace down the right side of her face, and then lower, to her neck and collarbone. Then lower to her chest. “I want to see how you react when I pinch and bite these,” I tell her as my fingers travel to the peaks of her breasts.

  “Do you think you’ll enjoy it?” I ask her. And for the first time, she admits a small truth, nodding her head once and then ripping her eyes from me.

  Her breathing is chaotic, and I know she’s ashamed.

  “I desperately want to feel you cum on my cock,” I admit to her, whispering in her ear since she still has her head turned. “Tell me what you want.”

  All I can hear is our tense breathing mix in the hot air between us.

  “Tell me, songbird,” I say, willing her to give in.

  Time seems to stretch on forever.

  “A drawing pad.” Blinking away the haze in her eyes and still denying what she truly wants, she utters useless words.

  And I leave her just like that, wanting and panting and flushed with need.

  She’ll learn to ask for what she wants. Or she’ll stay here forever.

  Chapter 14

  Aria

  I’ve never felt like this before.

  Like there’s nothing left of me but a shell of a weak and pathetic person. I’m on the edge of loathing myself and the way my body begs me to give in to Cross.

  But most of all, I pity myself and that’s what’s driving the hate.

  My father isn’t coming. Nikolai isn’t coming.

  I was worried that they were dead, but Carter told me yesterday that they’re still alive and the war is only getting started. I don’t know if he’s lying to me or not. If he wanted to offer me hope so he could crush it. I don’t know anything anymore and nothing gives me hope of getting out of here.

  Even as the thought hits me, I crumple forward and bury my face in my grimy hands. They smell of dirt but as I struggle to breathe and maintain any sense of composure, I don’t give a damn. No matter how many times I bathe myself with the warm water that waits for me when I wake up, I feel dirty. The kind of dirty that doesn’t wash away.

  I’m alone. A prisoner. And I don’t see any way out of here. There’s no white knight planning on barging in here. I’m not worth it. If I was, they would find me, they would come for me. They would save me and make Cross pay for keeping me here to starve and torment with thoughts of being his fuck toy.

  Fate sent a dark knight after me instead. With dinged and scratched armor and a taste for something that I shouldn’t crave. My face is too hot when I pull my hands away, calming my breath and leaning my head against the wall behind me.

  Exhaustion has taken over and I know it’s because I don’t eat.

  But I could, a little voice whispers in the crevices of my mind. The same dark corners where the memories of yesterday send a warmth through my body.

  My teeth dig into my lip as I remember how his skin felt against mine. How everything felt. It was… everything.

  Like electricity sparking through every nerve ending all at once, with a heat and fluidity that made me want to rock my body.

  Yes, the dark knight is good at what he does. He’s damn good at making me want to cave and give in to both his desires and mine. I lick my lower lip, wincing at the cracked skin as my back stiffens and I glare at the steel door that refuses to budge.

/>   As if knowing I was thinking about him and what he could do to me, the door to this prison opens and my hardened expression shifts to one of worry, curiosity, and eagerness.

  I hadn’t realized how dark it was in the room until the bright light from just beyond the cracked door makes me wince. My tired eyes sting with the need to sleep.

  I suck in a small breath, but I don’t cover my eyes or leave them closed for long. Pressed against the wall, I wait with bated breath until my eyes adjust.

  I expect to hear the door close, but it stays open.

  And the man I thought was coming in? It’s not him. It’s not Carter.

  Thump, thump. My heart slams hard in my chest as Jase takes a step inside. Still the door stays open and my eyes have to glance at what’s beyond it.

  A hallway and nothing discernable, but I know it’s freedom. That barely ajar door leads to freedom.

  “Now don’t make me regret this.” The deep voice seems to echo in the small room and I swallow thickly. It’s only when my throat stings and I feel as if I could choke that I realize how dry my throat is.

  “Jase?” I chance a word and it makes the man smile. I remember him from the night I was taken. That’s what Carter called him. He put the rag to my mouth. He’s one of them.

  He gives me a sexy lopsided grin that should frighten me. But instead, his charming looks put me at ease. He must be younger than Carter. His eyes are softer. But I remember them all too well, for the wrong reasons.

  “You remember me?” he asks me and takes a step forward, grabbing the chair that Carter uses. He’s just as tall as Carter, but leaner and in only a white t-shirt and faded jeans, he looks less threatening.

  But looks are deceiving.

  My lips part to speak, but I can’t get out a word. A million questions are running through my head.

  Why are you here? Where’s Carter?

  Are you going to let me go?

  I can only nod.

  “You’re looking a little on the rough side,” he says and then his voice drifts off as he looks behind him. I follow his gaze to the open door, but quickly my sights are back on his and the chair in his hand that scratches along the concrete. Turning it backward, he sits on it. As if he’s deliberately acting casual.

  He is. This is a setup for something. In my head, my words are strong and demanding, but when forced out they sound weak and desperate.

  “What do you want?” I swallow, and this time the scratchy sensation in my throat is almost soothed. But the pain in my chest grows with every thump in my heart.

  Jase breathes in deep and turns to look back over his shoulder, toward my freedom, and then points to it with his thumb. “He doesn’t seem to be taking care of you, is he?”

  Thump. Another thump.

  “Is this a trick?” My question is meager at best.

  Jase’s chuckle comes from deep in his chest and his smile widens, showing his perfect teeth.

  He shakes his head. “No tricks. I just know he can be stubborn and sometimes he gets in his own way.” He’s being far too kind. There isn’t an ounce of me that trusts him.

  My gaze falls to my feet. My dirty feet and scraped knees. And then to my nails, the dirt beneath my fingers that doesn’t seem to leave.

  My teeth dig into my lower lip to keep me from spilling all the desperate pleas begging me to come up, but it hurts. “What does he want?”

  “You.” Jase’s voice is soft and at ease. As if the answer was simple.

  “What about me?” For the first time, my voice is as strong as I imagine it would be.

  Resting an elbow on the back of the chair, Jase places his chin in his hand and considers me. He parts his lips but then closes his mouth.

  “Just tell me,” I beg him.

  “I don’t know. This…” Jase trails off, then clears his throat and looks away from me for a moment before looking me back in the eyes to continue, “isn’t something he does.”

  “This?” I ask sarcastically, and like a madwoman, a grin forms on my face and I swear I could laugh. “Which part of this?” I dare to spit back at him. And for the first time since Jase has walked in here, pure fear pricks down my spine at the sight of his expression.

  That cold, heartless look in his eyes is there and gone just as quickly as it came.

  He stares ahead of him, at the cinder block wall and ignores me for a moment. I almost speak but I don’t know what to say. And even if I asked the questions that keep me up at night, Jase wouldn’t know the answers.

  Mindlessly, I pick under my nails. Maybe if I begged him, he’d let me go. The huff of a genuine, but sarcastic laugh gets Jase’s attention. I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t look up until he speaks.

  “Carter said to buy you a drawing pad. But I thought maybe you’d want something else as well?”

  “Sleeping pills,” I answer him without thinking twice. I’m hungry, but more than that, I need to sleep. “It’s hard to sleep in here.”

  When I peek up at him, Jase is looking at me like I’m trying to fool him and that thumping in my chest beats harder and faster. “I need to sleep,” I beg him. “I take them at home. That or wine some nights. Please, I’m not trying to drug anyone or OD or anything. I just need to sleep, please.” My voice cracks and that pathetic feeling that plagued me only moments before he walked through the door comes rushing back to me, hard. It nearly makes me bury my head between my knees with shame.

  “I just want to sleep,” I plead.

  “Sleeping pills… any particular brand?” Jase’s question eases the anxiety slightly.

  Composing myself as best as I can, I brush my hair behind my ear and answer him, “I’ve tried a lot of them. There’s a pink box at the drugstore. I forget the name,” I say then close my eyes tight, trying to remember it. Trying to picture the box that sits on my nightstand.

  They open quickly at the sound of the chair scratching on the floor.

  But Jase is just leaning back, grabbing his cell phone and typing into it.

  “Do you want anything else?”

  “Tarot cards,” I blurt out without really thinking and the expression on Jase’s face tells me that I’m being stupid or naïve or weird. I don’t know. I mean, even if I am losing my mind I do realize it’s an odd thing to ask for. “I’ve been bored out of my mind and I like to think with them. It’s just something I like.” With each sentence, my words come out softer.

  Every day I read my cards. The damn things didn’t tell me this was coming though.

  “Maybe clothes?” Jase asks me, giving me a pointed look and my cheeks flame with embarrassment.

  “Clothes would be nice.” I haven’t thought much about my actual clothes; I know I’m dirty and covered in filth. The only place I’ve sat or slept is on this tiny mattress and I know I smell.

  “I could use a lot of things-”

  Jase cuts me off. “I’ll get you some toiletries and you know… those things.”

  I nod my head, swallowing down every bit of humiliation that threatens to consume me.

  “You’re very nice for a prison guard,” I tell him although I stare straight ahead at the empty corner of the room.

  He huffs a short, humorless laugh and asks, “Food?”

  “Carter said he has to be the one to feed me,” I answer Jase immediately and then close my eyes as my empty stomach tightens with pain. I should have eaten before. I have to be smart. But how many times have I told myself that, only to end up in the same place with no change?

  “That sounds like something he would say.”

  Everything hurts at this moment. My body from exhaustion, my heart from hopelessness. Starvation is only third on my list.

  “What else would Carter say?” I ask him, just to continue talking. To get to know him. To make him feel like I want him to stay. My heart flickers with the hope that he may hold the key to me leaving.

  “Carter would say he’s sorry it had to be this way.” I’d laugh at Jase’s words if they didn’t hurt me
the way they do.

  “I don’t think I believe that,” I nearly whisper.

  “He never wanted any of this,” Jase tells me. “He was only a kid when everything escalated, and it was kill or be killed.” The silence stretches as I imagine a younger version of Carter, one who hadn’t been hardened by hate and death.

  “You always have a choice,” I manage to speak, although I find it ironic as I sit in this cell, without a single choice of my own.

  “It’s a nice thought, isn’t it?” Jase offers. There’s no sarcasm, no sense of anger or sadness. Only matter-of-fact words.

  “I’d like to leave this room,” I tell him although it comes out a question. As Jase nods, hope rises inside of me.

  “It will happen,” Jase says. “I know it will.”

  “Would you let me go outside at least? Or by a window for some fresh air?” Jase tilts his head and narrows his eyes as if to ask me if I think he’s stupid.

  “I promise I wouldn’t run or anything like that. I swear.” My throat tightens as he considers me.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” is all he says to my racing heart. But it’s something. It’s a tiny piece of hope.

  “Why are you being nice to me?” I stare into his dark eyes, willing him to answer me but inside, I hope for a lie. I want him to tell me everything is going to be okay. That he’s going to get me out of here. But it’s all wishful thinking.

  “I’m not a nice guy, Aria, so get that out of your head.” He stands abruptly and then looks back at me as he opens the door wider, so he can leave.

  My blood pounds in my ears at the sight of the wide open door, with Jase’s figure blocking it. His shadow fades into the darkness of the room.

  Smart. I repeat it over again. Be smart.

  Now is not the time. Be his friend. The thought hisses and I listen. He could help me. He could have mercy on me where Carter doesn’t.

  “I’m just following Carter’s orders.”

  I only nod once and force myself to look elsewhere. Anywhere but toward the false sense of freedom beyond the door. He’ll be back. Next time I’ll be more prepared.