Savior (An Impossible Novel)

by Sykes, Julia

  Clayton nodded somberly. “Yes. That’s true.”

  “Clayton!” I cried, unable to believe that he was really considering allowing Greg to go through with this. “You can’t let him do this!”

  He looked at me sadly. “It’s his choice, Rose. If this is what he wants, I won’t stop him.”

  “No!” I gripped Greg’s forearms. His skin felt paper-thin beneath my fingers, and I could feel that his pulse was anemic. He was so weak. He wouldn’t survive this.

  Greg looked at Clayton beseechingly. “Help me, please.”

  Clayton’s arms closed around me from behind, pinning my arms to my sides as he locked his own around my waist.

  “I’m going now, Rosie.” Greg’s voice broke on my name. God, he sounded so scared…

  “No! You’re not going to leave me, Greg! I’m not going to let you!” I gripped him harder, my fingernails digging into his skin in an effort to keep him with me. He winced as he ripped his arms away, and I could see long red gouges in his skin from where I had clung to him.

  His eyes were agonized as he paused to look at me one last time. “I love you, Rosie.”

  “NO!” I screamed as he turned his back on me. “Clayton, stop him! Stop him!” I writhed in his arms, desperate to break free and run after Greg, but he held me firmly. His hold on me restricted my movements, but I clawed at his exposed hands in an effort to get him to release me. He just grabbed my wrists, keeping me restrained. I couldn’t see my brother anymore. “Please! God, Clayton, please let me go! They’re going to kill him! Help me!” I shrieked as I twisted madly in his grip. He said nothing. I don’t know how long I fought him, but he was just too strong. Eventually, my exhausted muscles gave out, and I sagged against him as broken sobs ripped their way out of my chest.

  Clayton shifted me in his arms, lifting me up so I was cradled against his chest. I buried my face against him, my hands fisting in his shirt. I was so mad at him, but his strong arms and his warm scent were reassuring. He was implacable, unbending. And he wasn’t going to let me go until my sanity returned. I cried and cried until I didn’t have any more tears to shed. I went quiet, trembling against him.

  “I’m sorry, Rose,” he whispered, finally breaking his silence. “We will have agents watching him. We’ll protect him as best we can. But it’s time to let your brother make his own choices. I won’t deny him a chance at redemption.”

  “What good is redemption if he’s dead?” I asked brokenly.

  Clayton’s fingertips were under my chin, tilting my head up so that I was looking into his eyes. “Do you really think Greg could live with himself if anything happened to you because of his actions? He would spend the rest of his life hating himself, consumed by the knowledge that he was responsible for losing his sister.” The pain etched across his features made me realize that he knew the burden of that kind of responsibility all too well.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Clayton,” I said quietly. “You’re not responsible for what happened to Jen.”

  “Aren’t I?” He breathed, his voice laced with anguish.

  “No,” I said firmly, putting my own problems aside for the moment. Clayton needed to hear this, needed to believe it. I couldn’t bear the thought of him going on one more day carrying the weight of this undeserved guilt.

  “People are responsible for their own actions. I can see that now. You’ve helped me to see it. I’ve spent the last year of my life feeling responsible for Greg, hating myself for what I had allowed him to become. But it didn’t matter what I said or did; once the drugs got hold of him, he wasn’t going to change. It took the threat of me being murdered for him to finally be convinced to give it up.” I took a deep breath. “And I’m responsible for the shitty choices I’ve made. I can’t blame my reckless behavior on Greg. I could have forced him into rehab at any time. I could have gone to the police and made them get a court order to get him clean. But instead I selfishly allowed it to continue because I didn’t want to lose him. Every stupid, self-destructive thing I did to escape the pain he put me through was ultimately my own fault. People don’t change until they’re ready to, and you can’t force them to be the person that you want them to be. No matter how badly you might want to.”

  Clayton looked uncertain, but there was a longing in his eyes that let me know he was desperate to believe me. “But I’m helping you change, Rose,” he said. “At least, I thought I was. I could have done that for Jen. If I had just been harder on her…”

  “You are helping me, Clayton. But I think I’ve wanted to change for a long time. Hell, I never wanted to be this person. But I let myself get buried under my problems, and I excused my behavior by blaming my circumstances. Before I met you, I couldn’t see a way out. I didn’t know how to be better. I didn’t even think it was possible for me to be better. But I want that, Clayton. Desperately. I’m asking for your help because I’m ready. When you punish me, when you correct my behavior, you’re not beating me into submission and forcing me to change. The pain you give me helps me to forgive myself so I can move on. I need that, Clayton. I need you.”

  “Rose,” his voice shook slightly, and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I… Thank you. I’ve never seen it that way before.”

  He leaned into me slowly, and I quickly closed the distance between us. Our kiss was desperate and fierce. It was full of pain and forgiveness and our intense need for one another, body and soul. Clayton eased me down onto the bed, settling himself over me. The weight of him, the delicious heat of him, was everything I craved.

  When he finally took his lips from mine to gasp for breath, he was looking down at me as though I was the most precious thing in the world. And I felt the same about him. He was the key to my redemption, and I had helped him to finally accept that he didn’t need to be redeemed at all.

  “I need you too, Rose,” he said raggedly, his voice rough with emotion.

  I reached out to tenderly cup his cheek with my hand. “Then take me,” I whispered. “Please.”

  He touched my forehead lightly, looking regretful. “We can’t. You’re hurt.”

  Now that he called my attention to it, I became aware of the soft, insistent throbbing just inside my skull. But my need for him was more acute than my discomfort. “I don’t care,” I declared. “I forgot it was even hurting until you mentioned it.” I ground my hips up against his. “You help me forget about it when you touch me.”

  He still looked hesitant, but his hard cock let me know how badly he wanted me. “Are you sure?”

  I smiled up at him softly. “You’re a far better painkiller than Advil is.”

  He chuckled. “That’s the strangest compliment I’ve ever received. But I’ll take it.” He stroked my hair tenderly. “I’ll be gentle with you,” he reassured me.

  “I don’t want you to be gentle,” I huffed petulantly.

  He grinned down at me. “How can I resist you when you’re pouting like that? I shouldn’t have told you my weakness. You’re not trying to manipulate me, are you?”

  “That depends,” I said teasingly. “How much trouble would I be in if I was manipulating you?”

  His expression turned stern, but the playful light in his eyes told me he was enjoying our little game. “Loads,” he told me. “I thought I warned you not to try topping from the bottom.”

  “In that case: yes. I am trying to manipulate you.” I pouted again to drive home my point.

  Clayton laughed. “You little minx. If I punish you now for topping from the bottom, then I’ll just be giving you what you want, thereby allowing you to top from the bottom. That leaves me with a bit of a dilemma now, doesn’t it?”

  “Why do you have to be so goddamn clever?” I asked sulkily.

  “And now you’re cursing at me again. Does your deviousness know no bounds? I think I’m going to have to have a long talk with Smith about what we should do with you.” His tone was musing, but his words held a clear threat. My shiver was a result of both fear and a spike of pleasure at
the thought of being at the mercy of both Dominant men once again. How far would they push me…?

  Clayton lowered himself so his lips were at my ear, his hot breath playing over my sensitive neck. “I think someone likes that idea,” he remarked, his voice low and hungry. I whimpered beneath him as my erogenous zones throbbed to life, my desire enflamed by the promise in his tone.

  “Touch me,” I begged. “Please, I’ll be good. Just touch me.”

  Clayton nipped lightly at my earlobe. “Now that’s the proper way to get what you want,” he told me, his pleasure evident in his voice. “No tricks.” He trailed his tongue in a hot line from my ear to the nape of my neck. “And no backtalk.” He brushed his lips across my collarbone. “Just be my sweet and obedient sub.” His teeth bit into the sensitive flesh where my neck met my shoulder, and I cried out as the sharp pain sent searing lines of pleasure shooting to my sex.

  “My” sub. His.

  “Yes, Clayton,” I moaned. “I’m yours.”

  He drew back slightly so he could stare down at me. His eyes were blazing with a desire that was more than just lust; it was yearning.

  “Say it again,” he ordered. “Who do you belong to?”

  “You. I’m yours, Clayton.” My voice shook with erotic longing as I made the confession.

  His expression twisted in triumph as his primal side took over, drawn out by my admission of his complete ownership of my body and soul. He tore at my clothes, his movements rough and almost frenzied, as though he couldn’t strip me fast enough. I met him with equal passion, my lips finding his as I undressed him, my fingers roving greedily over every inch of flesh I exposed. When my touch found his hard cock, he growled into my mouth, a low, warning sound. He jerked away from me, briefly depriving me of his heat so that he could grab a condom from his pants pocket. I licked my lips in anticipation as I watched him roll it on. He noticed, and he leered down at me.

  “Tell me how badly you want my cock inside you.”

  “Oh, God,” I groaned as his crude command washed over me, making my ache for him even more painfully acute. “I want you to fuck me, Clayton. I need you to fuck me. I want you to slam your cock into my pussy so hard that my teeth rattle. And I don’t want you to ever stop.”

  “Fuck, Rose!” He barked out as he impaled me. My fingers twisted in the sheets and my toes curled at the raw ferocity of it.

  “Yes! Clayton!” I cried. “Just like that. Just like that. Thank you thank you thank you…” The words dripped from my tongue in tandem with every hard, rapid thrust, but I was hardly aware I was even speaking. The intensity of my pleasure overwhelmed all other thoughts as Clayton’s cock hit my g-spot over and over again. The friction of his body’s movements against my clit only stimulated me further.

  My eyes were half-closed in my delirium, but they flew open when I felt Clayton’s hand wrap around the front of my throat. He gripped me firmly, but he didn’t squeeze. I automatically surrendered to the primitive part of my brain that was hardwired to capitulate when threatened in this way. My body went limp beneath him as I surrendered to the Alpha, giving in to his physical declaration of his dominance.

  “Who do you belong to?” He gritted out through clenched teeth. His face was contorted into something fierce with the effort of holding himself back. We were both so close…

  “You, Master. I belong to you.” I had never called anyone that before, but the title came to my lips naturally. Clayton owned me in every way possible, and I reveled in it.

  “Rose,” he groaned, and I felt his cock begin to pump inside me as his orgasm hit him. I finally let myself go, not even realizing until that moment that I had been forcing myself to wait for him. I came hard and long, and Clayton continued to thrust into me as I rode out the aftershocks that crackled within me like little lightning strikes.

  As I came down, I found us gasping in each other’s arms. When Clayton had finally caught his breath, he lightly touched his fingers to the side of my cheek, turning my face so I was forced to look into his eyes. They were filled with wonder.

  “I wasn’t expecting that,” he said softly. “Thank you. Are you really comfortable calling me ‘Master’? I would never ask you to do that, Rose. Not unless you wanted to.”

  “I’ve never wanted to before,” I admitted. “But it just felt right. You’re only my Master in the bedroom, though,” I stipulated.

  He grinned at me mischievously. “What if we’re somewhere more interesting than the bedroom?”

  “Okay,” I conceded. “I will call you ‘Master’ outside the bedroom, if we happen to be fucking elsewhere.”

  He tapped his finger against the tip of my nose in reprimand. “You really should learn to watch your language. All of this cussing isn’t very lady-like.”

  “I seem to recall that you rather enjoyed my dirty mouth when I begged you to slam your cock into my pussy,” I retorted.

  He grinned. “Alright. From now on, try to keep the cussing inside the bedroom. Or outside, if we happen to be fucking elsewhere.” I fought back a smile as he mimicked my words.

  “Agreed.” I tried to sound solemn, but I couldn’t stop a giggle from escaping. Clayton laughed with me, the warm sound wrapping around me like rich velvet. I savored the feeling. I didn’t ever want to lose this.

  Chapter 14

  Clayton and I had been officially dating for a little over a week, and – despite my worry for Greg – I was happier than I had ever been in my entire life. Mercifully, the Kings hadn’t hurt him. I wasn’t sure if it was my threat that had kept them from doing so. I really doubted that was the case, but I decided not to question it. The relief at having my baby brother back and finding him unharmed after he had bravely returned to them filled me with hope. He was going to get through this.

  Clayton had intimated that the FBI would have enough information soon to move in on the tribe of Kings that Greg had been spying on, known as Los Furiosos. It was all going to be over, and Greg was going to get his life back on track. He was still using, but not to the degree he had been. It would be physically dangerous for him if he stopped cold turkey without the medical care he would receive in rehab. His body might just shut down because his dependence had become so acute. It bothered me that he wasn’t fully clean yet, but I accepted Clayton’s rational explanation that this was actually what was best for Greg. Still, the drastic reduction in his consumption meant he was lucid more often, and my heart swelled near to bursting every time I was able to see my real brother again. Even when he was hurting with want and on edge, he was never cruel to me like he had been. It was a vast improvement, and it made me believe he really could recover, and our relationship would remain intact.

  Even Cheryl’s enduring haughtiness couldn’t penetrate my bubble of joy. Her bitchiness had only spiked when she had seen my head injury, and I had had to lie and say I fell. I couldn’t tell her that I had gotten hurt trying to save my brother from the wrath of the Latin Kings. She loudly speculated about why I had fallen, her favorite theory being that I had gotten drunk off my face and smashed into a wall. But I didn’t let it get to me. It was as though the high from the endorphins that pumped through me when Clayton dominated my body was so potent that it lingered in my bloodstream long after he was done fucking me.

  Even though I wasn’t out of the woods yet, my life had never been more perfect. The joy Clayton gave me was pure and lasting, fulfilling in a way the cheap highs from alcohol and drugs had never been. He was the best thing that had ever happened to me, and – incredibly – it seemed he felt the same way about me.

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked, curious and a touch worried.

  Clayton shot me a slightly twisted smile as he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “You’ll see.” He had told me this morning that he had a surprise waiting for me after work, and excitement and trepidation had warred within me all day as I wondered what he could possibly have planned for me. He had taken to the responsibility of being my Master beautifully, as though it w
as the most natural thing in the world for him. It felt right to me too, but I couldn’t deny that it was a bit alarming how quickly he had embraced his role. If I thought he had been ruthless and thoroughly domineering before, what he had now become was all-consuming, claiming my body and mind so deeply that I knew I would never be able to go back to who I was before I had known submission at his hands. And I didn’t want to go back.

  It wasn’t until we had parked and were about to enter a high-rise building that I realized where we were: Smith’s apartment. I stopped in my tracks, suddenly nervous.

  “I think I’m going to have to have a long talk with Smith about what we should do with you.”

  I had forgotten his erotic threat until that moment, and now fear shot through me. It made my panties wet. “Master,” I whispered, automatically falling into my submissive role. “Please…”

  I wasn’t sure if I was begging him to take me home or to drag me up to Smith’s apartment.

  Clayton paused beside me, turning my body so he could look into my eyes. His expression was soft, caring. He touched his fingertips to my face, tracing the line of my jaw. Even that gentle contact made me want to shiver. “I think you know what’s coming, Rose,” he said quietly, his tone calm and even. “If you don’t want it, you can use your safe word now or at any time if you feel uncomfortable.”

  But it wasn’t the idea of both men taking me that was really worrying me. “You don’t mind… sharing me?” I asked.

  He ran the pad of his thumb over my lower lip. “At one time, I would have thought that,” he admitted. “But after seeing your reactions when we were both touching you… You’ve never been more beautiful, Rose. I want to see that again; I want to give you more of that. Making you happy makes me happy.” He shot me a wolfish grin. “And I know the prospect makes Smith more than happy.”

  I shuddered in his grasp, overcome with lust and the intensity of his words. “I want to make you happy too, Clayton,” I whispered. “More than anything.”