His eyes close for a moment, then reopen. He reaches out and grips my cheek. “You need one. Trust me. It’s been a very long time since I’ve had this release. Eight years of working out has kept me sane, but…I don’t trust my control right now.”
The tone of his voice should scare me, and it does, but it only feeds my hunger, my desire. I meet his troubled gaze, unflinching. “I can take it. I can take whatever you need to give.”
He frowns then swallows, his Adam’s apple shifting along the column of his throat. “Mercy,” he says simply. “If it gets to be too much, say mercy . Please .”
There’s desperation in his eyes, almost a pleading that breaks my heart. “Okay,” I whisper, feeling oddly powerful in a moment that should have me feeling anything but that.
A tenderness floods his face as his thumb strokes my cheek. It’s a silent reassurance, a whispered promise that says we’re in this together now, sharing the same dark, twisted world we both belong in.
Emotion swells inside and I feel the ominous prick of tears, then their damp trail as they make their way down my cheeks once more.
He’s silent, I’m silent, the night is silent, but the madness around us, covering the walls, is anything but silent. It shouts, it taunts, it summons us into its grip, watching as we drift further and further into the shadows.
My eyes meet Daniel’s, watching his long, dark lashes rise and fall so slowly, almost trance like. His tongue slides along his parted lips, his gaze shifting to watch as his own hand slips down and curves around my right breast. My eyes close when he rolls my nipple between his fingers, and squeezes until he draws a whimper past my lips. His mouth follows—a warm, wet sensation enveloping my breast, followed by the biting clench of teeth. I gasp, lost in the storm that’s about to rage.
His mouth falls away and I watch him step back and take his flesh in hand, giving it a few long strokes while my body literally melts against the chains.
My eyes meet his, a nervous tremor shaking my body. His hand comes up and grazes my cheek with his touch, a whisper of sympathy along his face. Then his touch is gone and he circles to behind me, his body warm against mine, his lips soft against my ear. “I’m going to break you down, baby. Then I’m going to put you back together.”
I gasp, my body seething from his words. But then, I realize, that’s what he’s done with me every time I’ve read his books. My head falls back against his shoulder, offering my surrender.
He groans and nuzzles into my neck, then steps away. Suddenly, the silence cracks with the sound of leather hitting flesh…my flesh. I cry out, feeling the bite of the belt as it lands across my bottom. It’s painful, but not blinding. I welcome it, as though welcoming an old friend. Again it comes, along the backs of my thighs, forcing a grunt from my lips. My body arches, just in time for another one along my back. The strength is growing, the pain building. He’s working me up, lash by lash, blow by blow. I can hear his breaths turning ragged behind me, feel him losing himself in the demons that haunt him. They merge with my own. All the years of solitude, of being misunderstood, of feeling like a freak. Of longing for something I thought would never be.
More strikes come, turning brutal, turning vicious, until I’m writhing against the bonds that hold me in place. I feel him working his way around me, until I feel the lashes against my front. A hiss sounds, right before I feel my left breast and nipple explode in white-hot heat. I shriek, my eyes filling with tears. I’m vaguely aware of his form, vaguely aware of the dark, tortured eyes watching me as I take his pain, and offer back my own. I’m soaked. A wet, throbbing, hanging pile of flesh. He strikes my core, my sex, my stomach, the fronts of my thighs. He’s unleashed now, running with monsters, feeding a beast he has no choice but to nurture. Once more, he’s at my back, and that’s when I feel the full force of his rage, of his hurt. His grunts drive a pulse between my legs as I hang limp from my chains, my head bowed, tears streaming, feeling every harsh blow like a lover’s caress. Mercy drifts into the madness, resting on my tongue
“Say it,” I hear a raspy growl demand from behind my back.
I shake my head, swallowing the word down, determined.
Another blow lands, so brutal a shriek tears from my mouth.
“Say it!”
“N—ooo.” The word comes out in a choked sob.
I need this.
You need this.
We need this.
Another strike comes, then another and another, over and over until I feel my soul fracturing into nothing.
Then, finally…it stops.
My moans drift, the pain still swarming, the burn still spreading. My chin falls to my chest, too weak to hold it up. I see a shadow before me, dark and looming. A finger lifts my chin, until I’m staring into black, haunted eyes. There’s pain, there’s love, there’s concern, all molded to shape the tortured man before me.
“Amelia,” he breathes, in an almost reverent tone.
I have no words. Can’t speak. I watch him drop to his knees before me, panting, his big, strong hands soothing the ache over my body along the way. I feel worshipped, loved, and needed in such force it breaks my heart. Then with a desperate lunge, he lifts my legs over his shoulders and drives his face into my sex. I cry out, his tongue delivering wet, brilliant strokes of pleasure. My body jerks and seethes while he feasts on me, like a starving, feral beast. I’m so close. Already so close.
“Not yet,” he grumbles, then dives back in, lapping at my wet, needy flesh.
I moan, feeling the pain of denial. The storm rages, centered at my core, fueled by the man on his knees before me.
“Please,” I whimper, the pleasure turning into a torture I’m not sure I can bear. The pain I only had to withstand, but this…this I have to withhold.
He growls in warning, continuing his attack. His tongue swirls over my clit, then purges into my pussy, all the while his hands kneed my ass, shoveling me into his mouth.
My shoulders ache, my arms spread wide, all my weight hanging from the chains, but it only adds to the surrender, to the riptide threatening to pull me under and tear me apart.
“Daniel!” I cry out, desperate, unhinged, feeling as though my body will splinter into pieces if he doesn’t set me free.
Then I hear it: one simple word that sets my universe on fire. “Come.”
My body reacts on command, sending a bolt of lightning tearing through my core. I scream, my entire being ripped apart, bit by bit, cell by cell, pleasure and pain clashing like two raging gods. He holds me, grips me, tongues me, while I gush all over his mouth, his lips. He has done just what he said he would do. He has broken me down, and reduced me to nothing.
Oh, Daniel. My sweet, ruthless, tortured soul.
When the rage settles, all that can be heard are my tear laced whimpers and his sultry groans.
He stands now, hooking my legs over the crook of his arms so I’m splayed around his waist. I feel his hot, steeled flesh at my entrance. “Look at me,” he rasps.
I force my head up, gazing into wild hazel eyes that reach down into my soul, putting me back together, piece by piece.
“I love you,” he breathes. No three words have ever held so much power. Just like that, I’m whole again.
“I love you too.” My voice cracks with emotion, fresh tears spilling over once more.
His eyes close as he leans his forehead against mine. “I’ve waited so long to hear you say that.” The silence simmers around us for a long, beautiful moment, until he moves and nuzzles his face into my neck, and whispers into my ear, “I’m going to make this hurt, baby. Forgive me.” Before I can respond, he lunges inside me, tearing me open. My cry shatters the room as I’m impaled on his cock, his flesh too demanding against my tight inner walls.
“Wait!” I cry out. “It’s—it’s too much. It’s too big. Please. Please. It hurts too much.”
He stills. “Look at me.”
I shake my head, eyes squeezed shut.
Then I feel it. His m
outh on mine in a gentle kiss. His breath is like a calming summer breeze, his lips like soft pillows of feathery down. Whispered words begin to drift around me. Familiar words, beautiful words, pained words. His words. Passages from his books, passages I know by heart. And just like that, my body gives, melting against the man who has held my heart prisoner for so long. I can feel the graze of his lips move against my ear, feel the heat of his voice, so deep, so steady, working to calm me, to bring me back. All the while, his hands caress me, fondle me, while he holds me open. His virgin sacrifice.
When I finally open my eyes he’s there to meet my gaze. It feels like I’ve traveled to the far reaches of the underworld, only to wind up safely back in his arms.
“Daniel,” I whisper, gazing up into simmering hazel pools that regard me as though I hold the key to life itself.
He searches my eyes, perhaps to see if I’m really here, really with him. I blink and let him see that I am. Relief blankets his face, but it’s washed away when hunger takes over once more.
His face tightens, his jaw clenches as he slowly withdraws, then with a determined lunge, he thrusts inside me once more. He fills me, stretches me, burns me. My cries fill the room again, but this time his groans are with me, in a symphony that has been eight long years in the making. Again the tears come, only this time for happiness, this time for love…a love so strong I think it will tear me apart. Only I know he’ll be there to put me back together, just like he’s doing now.
His flesh stabs at my core, over and over, his grunts turning wild, his eyes black as the world we share. My clit begins to pulse and rage with every rake of his body against mine. His arms force my legs further apart and he drives himself home, making me bleed, making me die just a little in his arms.
“Amelia,” he croaks, spilling my name as though it’s his last breath.
He swells inside me, a pillar of love and greed and want. It hurts, it heals, it pounds me into submission and buries me in madness…the madness that is ours to share…the madness that covers the walls around us…the madness that seeps into the starry night above.
I scream, the orgasm stabbing me clean through, gutting me as his body braces and jerks against me, so violent, so unleashed.
The final groan rips from his throat and tears through my flesh. His lips crush against mine, holding me while he purges every last drop of his love deep inside me. I can feel his muscles quake, feel the mountains move, our bodies joined in a bond that will never ever break.
We’re both panting, both reeling, our bodies simmering like scorched earth. He gazes down at me as beads of sweat line his brow. His skin appears flushed, so warm and bright against his vibrant eyes. “Say it. Say that you’re mine.”
My throat swells, his gaze so intent, so vulnerable in this precious moment.
So strange, how life can turn. After all this time, our paths have collided; like two planets in space, drifting towards each other, bound with the inevitable, resulting in a force so great that our universe will never be the same. But there are somethings that will never change.
He is my dark.
I am his light.
Together, is where we belong.
I smile, knowing that no truer words will ever leave my lips. “I’m yours. I’ll always be yours.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Four weeks earlier.
I hurry my feet over the sidewalk, a little nervous that I haven’t given myself enough time to get to the interview. A quick glance at my watch tells me I’m right. Shit! I know better in a new city. I pat my purse, making sure I’ve got it, but still can’t shake that feeling that I forgot something. I glance down at my beige pencil skirt and white blouse, making sure I didn’t forget to put them on. I’ve been spacey lately. Distracted. I always am when I move somewhere new, feeling the loneliness a little stronger until I’ve settled in and made it home. Then it hits me.
My resume!
With a quick spin, I’m running back to my apartment, as fast as my navy pumps can carry me. I turn the corner just as I glance at my watch again, when I run into something hard, moving fast in the opposite direction. I go flying backwards but a set of strong arms snatch me into their grip. Then I’m standing, looking up, a bit dazed, and in that moment, time stops. I can’t breathe, can’t speak. I simply stand there, shaken, staring at the most bewildering hazel eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re a brilliant maze of spun gold and winter green with specks of rich dark chocolate. The color shifts with the light as he moves, as he blinks. They’re oddly intense, the long dark lashes rising and falling so slowly. It’s like looking up into a universe all its own. Like a universe that I know, intimately, with no reasonable explanation. And just like that, I feel sucked in.
Finally able to manage something, I smile, and notice with immense pleasure that a soft groan seeps from deep in his throat.
“Sorry,” I offer shyly. “I was in a hurry and wasn’t paying attention.”
He shakes his head, then speaks, his deep voice reverberating through every cell inside me, instantly pooling desire between my legs. “It’s my fault,” he says with a rush. “I—” His words leave him, and he just stands there, gazing into me, wide-eyed, as though stuck and unable to move. He almost seems panic-stricken.
I smile again, and look down, unable to hide the blush that takes over my cheeks. I’m not sure I’ve ever had this sort of effect on a man before. When I look up again, he finally smiles back, somewhat crooked, but so, so beautiful. It is in that moment that I know I’m in trouble.
Big trouble.
The rest of him is just as breathtaking. Handsome, tall, and powerfully-built. He wears jeans and a snug grey t-shirt, the mounds of his chest straining against the fabric. His short, dark brown hair gleams in the mid-day sun, beckoning for my fingers. When his hand leaves my wrist, trailing off with an ever so subtle caress, I feel a physical ache that shocks me. I watch his mouth open, watch his gentle lips part as though about to say something, but then nothing comes out. He seems breathless too.
“I’m Daniel,” he says finally.
“Amelia,” I reply, a bit awkwardly.
His eyes graze over my face as he repeats my name. “Amelia,” he says slowly, and in such an intimate way that it feels like he just ravaged me right there on the sidewalk. A vision enters my mind, of him tearing off my dress; and then I remember the reason for said dress, and the interview…and the missing resume.
“Actually. I’ve got to run. I’m late,” I say, feeling as though saying those words is the closest I’ll ever come to torture.
“Dinner,” he says simply, as I move past him. “Tonight.”
I turn and blink. He stands there waiting, arms by his side, chest rising and falling faster than before. Suddenly, Thomas comes into my mind, like he always does when I meet someone new.
“Umm, actually… I can’t. I’m —sorry.”
I watch his face falter as I turn to leave. Then I stop, staring down at the concrete. A thousand reasons to leave him behind rip through my mind. It can’t go anywhere. You’ll only hurt him. He’s better off. He’ll never be able to compete. Spare him. They’re the same reasons I’ve turned down every other man who’s ever approached me with interest.
Only…it’s never been this hard to walk away.
With a resolve I don’t understand, I turn back. “Alright. Dinner.”
I watch his lips part, watch his face shift in surprise, as though he wasn’t expecting my answer. He blinks, then quickly reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a cell phone. I say my number as he types it in, watching the shapely muscles of his forearm flex with every motion, then seeing to my surprise that his hands shake ever so slightly. I think he catches on to my thoughts, as he quickly tucks his cell phone away and shoves his hands into his front pockets. When he looks at me, his eyes have darkened, as though perhaps he has revealed more than he would like. His gaze turns so intent, so powerful, that my breath once again leaves me. I’ve never been affected like this before. Well, p
erhaps I have, only it wasn’t because of eyes, it was because of words.
“Okay, well…call me later?” I say. “I have to run.”
He nods. “I’ll call this afternoon.”
I smile, feeling a powerful heat growing inside me like I’ve just swallowed the sun. I turn and walk away, only to stop and turn back at the corner. He’s standing in the same place, unmoving. He looks almost pained, watching me walk away. I offer a parting wave, and watch him nod, as though he’s unable to do anything else, then I turn the corner and cover my heart with my hand to keep it from bursting through my chest.
I walk slower than I should, given I’m late, but I can’t help it. I feel like I’ve just been hurled into a whole new universe, where the laws of physics don’t quite work the same; where time moves slower, where gravity feels lighter.
Suddenly, a deep sadness takes hold. Thomas . I have no idea how I’m going to ever let him go. Then I remember those hazel eyes. Perhaps Daniel can be the one…the one to save me from my obsession. My twisted obsession. I smile.
Wouldn’t that be nice.
The End
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Iris Ann Hunter is a romance author who writes to affect as much as arouse. Her stories are raw, sensual, and achingly erotic, and span the spectrum of beautifully dark to tenderly twisted. Fond of the shadowy side of love and lust, she harbors a borderline unhealthy need to pen books about tortured souls and forbidden desires.
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