Battered Not Broken

by Rose, Ranae

  “Forget about the ice,” he said, taking one of her hands and gripping it tightly. He met her eyes and then his gaze drifted toward the bedroom, giving new meaning to her suggestion.

  She let him draw her across the living area, toward his bedroom door. Along the way, she dropped the large purse she’d stuffed with a few overnight essentials onto the couch.

  When they entered the room he sank onto the bed, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her with him. He leaned in as if to kiss her but paused a scant inch from her mouth, as if remembering the state of his lips. Had his desire really overshadowed his pain until then?

  She pressed a kiss against the side of his neck, an area that was sensitive but unhurt.

  He pulled her closer, against the surface of his chest, which was barely covered by his sinfully-tight shirt, and let the tips of his fingers dig lightly into the flesh of her shoulder and hip.

  She stopped kissing him, her lips a bare millimeter away from the thick column of his neck. It wouldn’t be right to get him pointlessly worked up, especially when he was hurting and needed rest.

  “Don’t stop,” he breathed.

  “I don’t want to be a tease. Not when you—”

  “If you think I intend to lie in bed just waiting for the pain to go away, you’re wrong.”

  “It’s not that I want to stop. I just don’t want to prolong your pain.”

  “The pain fades when you touch me, when you kiss me.”

  She hesitated, knowing her breath was streaming over his skin as she wrestled with uncertainty.

  “I’m serious,” he said. “Those pills I took aren’t going to make this all go away. But you might. Or at least, you’ll make it a hell of a lot more bearable.”

  She gave in and let her body do what it wanted, allowing her lips to rove up and down the side of his neck, covering the area between his jaw and collarbone with kisses. His skin was hot, his pulse jumping beneath her lips.

  “That feels so good.”

  She raised her head for just a moment. “Why don’t you lie down? I won’t stop.”

  He reclined on the mattress, lying with his head and shoulders propped against the pillows. The hem of his shirt rode up on one side, revealing a narrow strip of muscle above the waistband of his jeans.

  She joined him, pressing herself to his side and letting her breasts rest against his shoulder as she applied her lips to his neck, retracing the same trail she’d just blazed, pressing kisses where she already had, refusing to let the heat of her affection fade from his skin.

  He hadn’t been lying about the attention keeping his pain at bay. His relief was evident in the way his muscles became less tense beneath her, in the way the little line between his eyebrows eased, becoming shallower. Encouraged, she reached below, running a hand over his chest, letting her palm skim the waffle weave of his shirt before slipping below the hem.

  Her fingers glided over the ridged plane of his stomach and between his pecs, tracing the line of his breastbone. With her hand there, she was doubly connected to his heartbeat – her fingers and lips hummed with the pulse of it, warmed by the evidence of life that was so easy to detect at the intimate places she touched.

  She moved her hand lower, over the waistband of his jeans and the bulge below, where he was hard beneath the denim.

  He moaned, the sound reverberating against her mouth as it rose up his throat and escaped his swollen lips.

  She managed to undo his button and zipper one-handedly, freeing the hard rod beneath. She gripped it through the cotton of his boxer briefs, running her hand up and down the length of his cock and eliciting another groan.

  Lifting her head, she studied the skin between his eyes, pleased to find that the line there had faded further. If he liked the touch of her hand so much, it wasn’t hard to imagine something that might smooth the mark away altogether.

  She lowered her head and brushed her lips against his neck one last time. Afterward she rose, climbing on top of him and straddling his legs, simultaneously hooking her fingers beneath his jeans and underwear, pulling them lower so she could access his cock – the only part of his body that was more swollen than his lips.

  She lowered her head, pressed her lips against the rounded head and took it into her mouth before he could say a word.

  When she took him deeper, her mouth hugging his shaft, he didn’t speak but moaned again, a guttural sound that couldn’t have been farther from English, or any spoken language, for that matter.

  “Ahh, damn,” he breathed a while later, his cock buried three quarters of the way inside her mouth and his balls in her hand. It seemed to be the only word he could say. None of the other sounds he made as she caressed the underside of his shaft with her tongue were coherent enough to be called words.

  He tasted faintly salty, enough so that she wondered whether he’d came just a little already. The thought made her pussy tighten, though she was still fully clothed and had every intention of letting him finish as they were.

  “Stop,” he breathed a short while later. “Ally, stop.”

  She did, reluctantly, and rose to meet his gaze, leaving his cock bare, wet and flushed.

  “I don’t want to come yet. And I will if you don’t stop.”

  “Then what do you want me to do?”

  “I want to see you.” He reached up and took the hem of her sweater between his thumb and forefinger, his knuckles brushing the skin beneath. “I want to be inside you. Take off your clothes.”

  She eased her way off of him and began to undress, standing beside the bed to remove the layers of clothing she’d chosen to protect herself from a night that was cool but not as cold as most had been lately.

  Ryan’s gaze never left her as she stripped, eventually removing the last garments shielding her body from his eyes – her bra and panties. When they were on the floor along with the rest of her clothing, his gaze almost felt like a physical touch, sweeping over her curves and making her ache wherever it lingered.

  He swung his legs over the side of the bed and quickly disrobed, pulling off his shirt and kicking off his already loosened jeans and underwear, tossing his socks aside last.

  The evidence of the night’s fight wasn’t just written on his face – the violence had left traces all over his body. There was a place on his chest where a few blood vessels had burst, probably during grappling, leaving a red rash of dots, and a bruise on one shin where a kick he’d thrown had been stopped with a hard block.

  She stepped forward, into his space, and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck, careful not to press her body against his face.

  When he looked up to meet her eyes, his swollen lower lip brushed the lower curve of one of her breasts. It felt rough, dry and still somehow sensual. Her skin pebbled as her nipple shrank to a hard bud, warmed by his breath.

  “You’re beautiful, Ally.” He held her gaze captive, his eyes clear on either side of the little crease that lingered between them. “The moment I first laid eyes on you, I wanted to see you like this.”

  He laid a hand on her thigh, sliding it up the length of her leg until he was cupping the curve of her ass. “I wanted to touch you like this.” He laid his other hand on one of her breasts, cradling it from below and letting the nipple harden between his spread fingers. “But I didn’t know how good it would feel. I couldn’t have imagined it, just like I couldn’t have imagined the silver lights and god-awful pain before I saw and felt them for the first time.” He let his lips brush her breast again, touching and pressing lightly, a touch for the sake of touching.

  Her heart skipped a beat as she remembered the way he’d stared at her during his first day at Knockout, like he’d never seen a woman before. At the time she’d dismissed it – or tried to, anyway. Now the memory made her core tighten as he touched her, cradled her and breathed against her skin.

  “Being with you feels better for me than I knew it would, too. Better than I realized it could, to be honest.” No one had ever made her ache to h
ear her name on their lips, or made her heart skip a beat with a look.

  He squeezed her breast, his fingers denting her skin and inciting a wicked ache below its surface. “Does it?” His breath rushed hot against her other breast.

  “Yeah.” Dampness crept from her core as she remembered the feel of him tunneling deep inside her and the sound of him telling her that he didn’t know what pain was while he was there. Like she was someone who healed instead of hindered. It was a new feeling, and a good one. Until him, she’d caused most people she cared about more problems than she’d solved.

  People like her family – her father, mother and maybe even Manny, when she was really honest with herself. Not on purpose, or because of anything she could have really controlled, but the fact still remained that if it hadn’t been for her, her father wouldn’t be in prison and her family would probably still be whole.

  “Ally?”

  “Yeah?” It was a question this time, as his voice pulled her back into the present, his breath feathering across her breast.

  “Come here.” He tightened the hand that cradled her ass cheek, squeezing.

  She climbed onto the bed, a bead of moisture trickling down the inside of one thigh. When she was with Ryan, she’d think of how he made her feel, not how it compared to her regret. “What was it you said about wanting to be inside me?” A little thrill rippled through her as she remembered his words and the way he’d chosen to wait and prolong their time together instead of finishing inside her mouth. That must have taken a lot of resolve – he’d been obviously close.

  “I want to be inside you,” he echoed, drawing his legs up off the floor and onto the bed. “I want to feel you wrapped so tight around my cock that I forget I even have a head, let alone that it hurts.”

  “Why don’t you lie back down, like you were before?” They could make love like their first time. He wouldn’t have to exert himself, and she could give him exactly what he wanted. “I can grab a condom out of your drawer – the second one down, right?”

  “Yeah. And I was hoping you’d say that.” He complied, settling on his back as she crossed the room. “Best view ever from down here when you’re on top of me.”

  She found a strip of condoms in his dresser drawer, on top of a stack of neatly-folded t-shirts. Maybe that was a military habit – most guys she’d known didn’t bother to fold their clothes, just stuffed them into drawers, cramming until they fit. After tearing off one square from the package and closing the drawer, she returned to the bed.

  Bruised and bloodied or not, the sight of Ryan stretched across the bed waiting gave her one of those jolts of sensation – the kind that made her entire core tighten and her mouth water. His body was strong and cut beneath the surface wounds he’d sustained and his cock was as straight and hard as a steel rod, pointing up at his flat stomach. She’d never really given thought before to what her ‘type’ of guy was, but in that moment she was sure that she was looking right at a perfect example, and that that preference would never change.

  For the first time, she sheathed his dick in latex for him, letting her fingers roll down over the veined sides of his shaft, pushing the condom to the base. By the time it was done, the simple act had practically worked her into a frenzy. She hadn’t expected to want to fuck him so badly when just looking at him reminded her that he was hurting. But the allure of his body combined with the allure of easing his pain was absolutely irresistible.

  He moaned when she lowered herself down onto his cock, gripping it at the base until the head was inside her, beginning to stretch her. It felt just like their first time, and their second time, and still, she’d forgotten exactly how incredible it felt. All the flashes of memories and mini-fantasies that had raced through her mind since then had failed to replicate what it was really like to feel his hardness forcing her softer body to yield. She rolled her hips, letting the sensation knock the breath right out of her.

  He aided her from below, rocking her with thrusts that were more rhythmic than forceful, each one deep-reaching. He let one hand rest on her hip while he caressed her breasts with the other, palming their curves and teasing her nipples with his fingertips, rubbing and pinching until they were as hard as his cock was inside her. When he eventually stopped, it was to lower his hand, pressing it between her legs and beginning to tease her there instead.

  Her nipples still ached from his touch, remaining hard and flushed as he rubbed her clit in a circular motion, quickly bringing her arousal to a peak. She met his eyes as the first jolt of pleasure caused her pussy to shrink around his cock, then tipped back her head because it was too difficult to focus on anything other than the friction his shaft was creating against her walls and the heat building between his fingers and her clit. His name seemed to leap to her lips and she didn’t try to stop it.

  When her orgasm ebbed, leaving her half-breathless and buzzing with leftover pleasure, he groaned, slowing his thrusts to a calmer pace. She rode his simple motions until she regained some semblance of equilibrium, then began to move. MMA training and competition had strengthened her thigh muscles, making it easy to ride him, sheathing and half unsheathing his cock over and over again. Every hard breath that escaped him was like music to her ears.

  After a little while, she noticed that the line between his eyes was gone. It reappeared when he said her name, the two syllables escaping his busted lips in a guttural moan as he tipped his head back against the pillows.

  She rocked her hips harder, sending his shaft spearing deeper into her pussy while the head scraped a place that sent shivers of remembered pleasure down her spine, a souvenir of her climax that made her skin pebble all over her body.

  He thrust to her rhythm as he came, tendons standing out on either side of his neck. His parted lips looked sensual despite the cracks that split them and his eyelashes rested against the faintly shadowed circles beneath his closed eyes. She kept hers open, memorizing the moment and the nuances of his expression, the way he looked when he lost himself inside her.

  When he was still she stopped her rocking and rose, freeing his cock from her body and sinking onto the mattress beside him.

  He lay motionless for a few moments before rising to sit, bracing himself with the heel of one palm planted on top of the comforter. “God, Ally…”

  A handful of butterflies burst into short-lived flight inside her stomach as the rasp of his voice caressed her senses. He sounded tired, but there was unmistakable passion in his voice. “Yeah?”

  “That was good.” He rose, rolling his shoulders as if to loosen them.

  “How do you feel?”

  “The pain’s not that bad, but I can still feel the pressure behind my skull and see silver lights. I’m going to go to sleep while I’m still feeling good. Unless that will bother you?”

  “No,” she said, rising and hurrying to assure him. “It’s late anyway. You should get some rest. We still have tomorrow morning.” She knew how to execute a myriad of takedowns – sweeps, throws and scissors. If he tried to do anything besides go to bed, she’d use one of them on him and then hold him captive until he fell asleep. Somehow.

  “Okay. You’re still staying the night, right?” He reached out to brush her cheek with his knuckles, the tip of one finger tickling the corner of her mouth.

  “Yes.” Her heart did a funny little flip-flop movement at the thought of spending the entire night with him, not having sex until the wee hours of the morning, but actually sleeping. Sleeping away his pain – hopefully – and what was left of the night. Somehow, the idea seemed even more intimate than what they’d just done.

  “Good.”

  He pulled a pair of boxer briefs from a dresser drawer and put them on before leaving the room, presumably to get ready for bed.

  She followed him out of the room and retrieved her oversized purse from the couch. Inside she’d packed things like a toothbrush, a hair elastic and a fresh pair of panties – the bare essentials she’d need to stay the night.

  W
hen he emerged from the bathroom with his breath smelling minty, she went in with her toiletries. A few minutes later she was ready for bed, her teeth freshly brushed and her hair tucked up into a knot to keep her waves from being rubbed into a frizzy mess as she slept. Well, she was almost ready.

  “Could I borrow a t-shirt?” she asked as she stepped back into the bedroom. All she had on was the clean pair of cotton hot short panties she’d packed, and she was most comfortable when sleeping in something light rather than nude or in heavy pajamas.

  Ryan eyed her from where he’d already climbed onto the bed, his blue eyes gleaming as he let his gaze sweep over her body. “I would say no, if the idea of you wearing one of my shirts didn’t turn me on even more than you being topless for some reason. They’re in the drawer with the condoms.” He tipped his head toward the dresser, still eyeing her breasts.

  She opened the drawer for the second time that day and lifted one of the neatly-folded t-shirts from its depths. As she held the bundle up and let the careful folds unfurl, she studied the faint creases left by Ryan’s handiwork. How could someone who paid such careful attention to such small details overlook something as huge as the danger he was placing himself in by continuing to fight competitively?

  She pulled the t-shirt to her chest, letting the soft cotton that had at some point hugged Ryan’s body caress her breasts. That was something she could resume worrying about the next day. For now, she’d do her best to make sure he spent the night resting.

  She slipped the t-shirt on over her head, inhaling the faint aroma of laundry soap. She thought she could still smell faded traces of Ryan’s scent clinging to the fabric too, but maybe that was just her imagination. Either way, the garment would definitely smell like him by morning.

  He was still staring directly at her, his eyes blazing an intense shade of blue as he reclined on the bed when she looked up again.