Serenity's Key

by Charlotte E Hart

  The temperature is rising around us. I can feel it in my body as it aches to move forward. It yearns for him on me, in me, completely obliterating all logical sense as the leather slides through the loops on his trousers.

  “You should tell me to stop, Lilah,” he says smoothly, not once removing his eyes from mine as he runs his tongue over his teeth again. He knows, doesn’t he? He knows as well as I do that this isn’t right, that we should both move away from this and get on with our lives. I can tell by the slight grate in his voice. It’s like he’s tempting himself with something he shouldn’t need or want. He’s not in control, and neither am I. This is animalistic, something neither of us knows what to do with. We just need it, regardless of everything. I need it.

  “No,” I breathe out, and I so wish I hadn’t as he steps forward instantly, grasping at my fucking offering and yanking me to him. I don’t care. It’s just like fire shooting across my skin as he pulls me to his chest, and I feel his heat, dousing me in a feeling I don’t even try to avoid. I let it consume me as I feel his fingers tighten on me, and stare up into him again.

  “Everything this time, yes?” he says, drawing me closer still and pulling his lips up the side of my cheek.

  Everything. Yes, let’s do everything. Here. Now. Let’s get it all out of our systems and fuck like there’s no tomorrow. Then it will be done. Finished. Over.

  He lays my hand on his chest by the buttons then lets go completely. He just stands there, arms wide as he looks down at me, and stares into my eyes. “Hmm? What is it to be, my love? Will you take what you need when it is offered?”

  My brow furrows a little, suddenly unsure of what’s happening. Why is he giving in? I expected force, shoving and pushing, not him offering himself to me.

  “Still so confused, my little wolf, hmm? Do you not feel it? Here is your belt, Lilah. Take it,” he says, waving the black leather at me. My eyes look at it. I know they do because I feel them move, but my heart doesn’t. My heart stays fully focused on him. He’s asking me to help him, isn’t he? For whatever reason, he’s asking me to give him what he needs, not what I need. I slowly turn back to look at him again, sensing the calm rising inside me because of my power here. He does need punishing, probably for what he did to Alexander.

  “Give me my money and I’ll help you,” I say eventually, raising a brow and backing away another step to wait for a response.

  “No, Lilah. That is not how this will go.”

  “Oh, yes it is. Your daughter is waiting for you to rescue her, Pascal. You have two minutes to make a decision or I walk.”

  “I have as much time as I require,” he says, unbuttoning his shirt and smirking at me in his usual arrogant way while stepping forward. “Junker and Thomas are watching Claire, ready to pounce should she need assistance, hmm? All is presently well.”

  I don’t know why but my legs bump into the wall behind me, regardless of the fact I wasn’t aware I was moving. “These two minutes you offer are for your own perusal, my love. What is it to be? Shall I ravage you, or will you have your way with me?” And then the shirt exposes skin, fucking drool worthy, deeply tanned skin as he allows it to hang open and begins to slide his cufflinks out. “You are salivating, my love. And your cunt grasps for me, yes? We both smell its filth, hmm? It is a dirty little thing, no?”

  The sound of his metal cufflinks rattles around my head as he drops them to the wooden floor beneath us and moves closer again. So close. There’s only a hair’s breadth between us as he breathes in deeply and closes his eyes, savouring the smell of my cunt no doubt.

  I’m pinned against the wall by a tower of Pascal and yet he’s not even touching me. I can’t fucking move. I’m stuck, immobile, and wanting nothing more than to fuck him until we both bleed. I stare at his chest, watching the red silk gently flick against his scars as he inhales again. Such beauty. He’s such a beautiful man regardless of all this conflict—pure and true to his own demons. Whole. All others pale next to him. They’re weak, insignificant when placed against such a force. My breath sighs out of me at the realisation that he’s right. I am confused. Tired and confused. I’m tired of running, tired of pretending, tired of trying to work it all out. This thing between us simply is. It neither softens nor deteriorates because I deny it. It exists deep down inside me, pulling me into him regardless of what he’s done.

  “I hate you,” I spew out. I do. I hate that he has this power over me. I hate that I can’t move away from him. And I hate that I feel so weak under him.

  “Mmm,” he murmurs, smiling and moving his face closer then running his tongue along my jaw, causing shivers to descend again. “You hate your indecision, my love, not I. We shall let this love find its errant path, hmm? Let it clarify itself?”

  “But you hurt him. He could have–”

  I get no further before the sudden divine force of him is on my lips, rolling his damn tongue around my mouth and forcing all the feelings I’ve been denying to rise back up. My back arches instantly, pushing me into him as his hands wrap around me and drag me somewhere. I don’t know or care where. Anywhere is fine. At this point, in my deluded mind, I’d go anywhere with him, for him. If it means I can have him inside me again, if I can get one more second of that calmness that settles when it’s right between us then I’ll take it.

  The first flash of fear springs up inside me as he suddenly levers my body and begins tearing at my clothes. My jumper is wrenched upwards, then the shirt buttons rip open, causing me to gasp out at the sound. I wish the fear wasn’t welcome, but it is. I can feel it scorching its way downwards, already igniting the ache between my thighs again and promising me relief from the denial of the dungeon. He tugs at me again, his hands gripping perfectly onto my thighs as he yanks at the top of my trousers and I feel them slide down my legs. Just get inside me. I just want him inside me.

  I eventually realise I’m helping him when I feel leather beneath my fingers and push at my boots, throwing them anywhere to get myself naked as quickly as possible. I grasp out at his trousers, barely containing the need to rip them from him as we roll around on the wooden floor. I’m tearing at the material, shoving his body to a better position to find leverage as everything gels together between us. It’s all there, as we twist and turn in one another’s hold—the love, the force, the clawing and tearing. Clothes are thrown everywhere as we frantically strip away yet more layers to get to skin.

  “Bite, my love,” he orders, and I do, immediately. On what, I don’t know. It’s just skin. His beautiful skin, and the groan that leaves him makes my stomach convulse in need as I finally feel my trousers leaving my ankles. Then his fingers stop grabbing at me suddenly, and I attempt to find some focus to see why as I sense them softening and easing off.

  “What?” I ask, as I search his eyes for reasons and put his hands back on my waist, exactly where they should be. “I want more. More pain. It’s fine. It’s all–”

  “I need you to hurt me,” he says, growling his way around the words as he reaches for his belt and holds it up to me. I climb up his body and sit astride him, wondering how the hell I’m going to deliver pain from this position. “Around my throat.”

  What?

  Chapter 3

  What does he mean, around his throat? That can’t be good. I’m not strangling him no matter what he’s done. I stare down into his green eyes before flicking my gaze around his features. He’s entirely serious as he pants slightly beneath me, and I can feel his breaths rising and falling as I rest on his chest.

  “Wrap it around me and ride your cunt on my face.” That could be the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. I’m almost speechless as I stare back at his lips and watch them moving around his exhale. “Hmm? Do it, Lilah. Fuck my mouth and throttle me at the same moment.” I can’t speak. Hitting someone with a belt is one thing, even learning to use a whip, but throttling someone? No, that’s, I don’t quite know what that is.

  Fingers suddenly dig into my arse harshly, pulling me up to h
is waiting mouth as I slide along his chest and hover in front of it. Everything is silent again. The only sounds are our breathing, and him slipping a looped belt around his neck. It’s like another universe, and I feel myself retreating from his face, trying to force my way back down his body and away from the very thought of doing something like this.

  “No,” he growls out, intensifying his hold on me and yanking me back to his mouth. “You will do this for me.”

  “I... I can’t. Won’t. No, Pascal,” I say, but the moment his mouth engages my clit, I’m damn near frantic with need.

  It’s like a year of my life has been missing and all the answers are living in his lips. His tongue swirls, lapping at me and gently biting, creating that perfect fucking rhythm of his to get me where I need to be. Oh God, it feels so good. Too good. My knees spread wider, inviting him in all the more as the biting becomes more painful. His fingers crawl down my arse, slipping between my cheeks and opening me up even more as I keep rocking. I’m desperate to have them inside me. I’m desperate for him inside me. I can feel it all dripping and oozing as he keeps eating at me.

  My breathing hitches as I feel him inch in. Just one finger, a finger I could ride all fucking night if he’d let me. I close my eyes to the sensation and grind myself further onto him. Face, finger, cock. Christ, I want his fucking cock. I want to bury it inside me and keep it there forever, along with his heart. I want my fucking heart back. I want it beating inside of me, with mine, where it damn well belongs.

  “Yes, my love. Ride,” he mumbles from beneath me, and the words mingle with slick wet growls of need and more driving fingers. “Take hold of the reins,” he says, pushing something into my hand and then reaching behind me.

  Fuck.

  My eyes flicker open to see the end of the belt somehow wrapping itself around my fingers as I continue riding. And then I turn to see him tugging at his own cock. Back and forth. It’s shining with come and tempting me to suck. Oh God, it’s all too much as I increase my pace, almost leaning on the belt to keep myself balanced.

  “Watch me,” he snarls, twisting his hand viciously to pull my attention back to his eyes. It’s painful enough that I jump up away from him, wincing at the intense throb he’s created with so little movement inside me. “You want my cock in you? Hmm?” Oh God, yes I do, and his voice only makes me pound my groin against his face harder, searching for my orgasm, practically begging it to come through me. “You don’t deserve it, fucking little whore that you are.” My hand snatches at the belt instantly, wrenching his head sideways. “Slut.” Again. I jerk, more ferociously, watching his neck muscles straining against the coil and sensing the smile on my face. “More, Lilah,” he mumbles, his voice grating as he leans away from the loop to tighten its force on him. “Whores don’t deserve me. You don’t deserve me.”

  Something snaps inside me. I don’t know what it is—anger maybe, control, frustration?

  I lift myself off his fingers and shove myself back down to my cock. My cock. I want it buried so far inside me I can’t breathe. And if he wants to get to the point where he can’t either, fine. My lips find his instantly, caressing them as my fingers tighten around the belt.

  “Put it in me,” I order, as I scrape my teeth across his jaw. He instantly grabs at my hips, using all his strength to keep me away from his cock, the one I so desperately need.

  “No. Whores don’t deserve–” My other hand slaps out at his balls between my legs, causing him to groan again and falter in his hold on me.

  “Is that what you want from me? All this pain? You’ll fuck me properly if you do.”

  His mouth smiles against my lips. I feel its amused tightening as he strains his neck away again and shoves his cock upwards towards me, only to remove it again and regain his hold on my hips.

  “Tighter, my love. Prove yourself,” he murmurs, running his teeth across my lips and drawing us into another kiss of need. Try as I might, I can’t get any purchase on anything now. He won’t let me. “Pull it taut, Lilah. My cock aches to have your cunt wrapped around it.”

  Teasing and rubbing happens, all over each other, followed by tensing hands and frantic groans. I’m desperate to come but I have nothing to come against. My fingers find their way to where I’m aching for friction, hoping to relieve the ache that’s damn near killing me, but he pushes them away so fast I haven’t got a hope.

  “You should have tied me, my love, hmm?” he drawls, laughing slightly as he does and rubbing his cock into me again. “Pull the fucking belt, Lilah. Do it. Be yourself. Give me what I need from you, you deplorable little slut. Whore. Worthless and fucking filthy little whore.”

  That’s all it takes for fury to take over. There’s nothing but blinding lights and milliseconds between me wrenching and him shoving me down onto what I need most. The stretch is delicious as it consumes all thought and I gaze into his brightening eyes. He’s buried inside me to the hilt, driving in with such anger that I scream at the impact as he does it again. And again.

  I keep pulling on the belt, letting him dictate the pace and somehow listening intently for breaths as I watch his eyes glaze over and go off somewhere else. Oh, but the twinkling in those green eyes… It’s like a starlit sky as he rams into me again and I feel the burn chasing me effortlessly. Growls of passion sound out in the room, and sweat slickens already drenched skin. His cock relentlessly pounds into me, bringing with it love and connection. We’re so close. We’re just a blur of hearts hammering and pulses racing. Oh God, I miss him. I miss him like this. I miss his need for me, and mine for him.

  There’s a short intake of breath as his fingers grip so tightly I howl from the sensation, and I don’t know how I know, but I do. My hand releases the belt immediately, loosening the pressure as I let the inevitable happen and grind my clit onto him more. Over and over, I grind down until I feel him thickening and pulsing inside, ready to release. We’ll do this together. We’ll come together, breathe together, fuck together. I know we’ll always be together in some way as stare down into his eyes and watch him coming back to me. Those brightened eyes dull slightly as I keep grinding, and his panting becomes less panicked, more tranquil as he relaxes, then tenses again, pushing me down onto him with every frenzied drive.

  “Now, my love,” he murmurs, tightening one hand on my skin again to pull us closer, and reaching the other for my face.

  Timeless. That’s the only word that even begins to describe the sensation as we come together and stare into each other’s eyes. Timeless. Moments of sheer bliss race though me like never before as I feel him root himself and pour heat into me. No sound. No noise. No one else but him and I, and this feeling we create together as cascades of goosebumps explode on my skin, and I’m hopelessly lost in it. I’m drowning in its glory as he cradles my cheek and holds me away from him a little. I’m ready to die for it should it be asked of me. Ready to die for him.

  He slowly slides himself in and out of me as I rock a little longer, letting the last of the vibrations wash through me. It’s beautiful really, in the most depraved sense of the word when I think about the fact that I nearly throttled him. But he asked for it, didn’t he? He forced the situation. Wanted it. Begged, in fact. And as I watch his mouth curve into one of his most glorious smiles I know he needed it. I just took him somewhere he craved for the first time. Subspace—that’s what Alexander called it. If he had half the feeling he gave me that first time then I’m not surprised he’s smiling. I look down at my hands on his ribs and notice the marks from my nails striping his flesh. They’re pretty, if one can call them that. It feels as though they show some kind of ownership as they mirror the old scars lying beneath them. Beautiful.

  I find myself drawing circles around them, mingling the two together and creating patterns in his skin as I silently sigh my orgasm away and wonder if I could get another one.

  “This was not prudent,” he suddenly says, tapping my cheek sharply to get me to look back at him. Prudent? I snort out a laugh, rolling my eye
s at the statement. Nothing is sensible or level-headed around him. Ever. It’s a constant mix of confusion and sensations that counter each other. Stay? Leave him? Love him? Hate him?

  “I doubt sense has anything to do with anything,” I reply with a frown, because I can’t find a more useful response given the fact that I’ve just done the very thing I didn’t want to do, cutting off his air supply as I did. I shake my head at his lip licking as he grinds himself into me again and rubs his thumb back and forth over my cheek. If I were sensible, I’d get up and walk away. I’d revel in this moment for a few more minutes and then leave with no further thought for any of it. I should; I know that, but this connection is so strong, so damned divine and consuming. “Nothing’s changed, Pascal. I’m still leaving.”

  He sighs a little, widening his lips to open up into that dirty grin of his.

  “Of course you are, my love,” he says, dropping his hand from my face, letting it travel the length of my arm until it reaches my hand and brings it over his heart. “It still beats, Lilah. You did nothing wrong here. I asked you for it.”

  “I know that,” I reply calmly as I slowly pull my hand away and give myself one more flex around his cock. Just one more before I begin to lever myself off him and get to my feet, once more leaving my own damn heart against his hand, too. “That’s not the reason I’m leaving, Pascal. You are.”

  “Mmm,” he hums from behind me as I head for the shower to try to regain some sense.