Obliterate

by Autumn Grey

  He nodded, and the demons in his eyes receded. “And no, I don’t regret meeting you. Never.”

  I’LL NEVER walk away from you.

  Selene’s words rang through my mind as I placed her on the bed, and immediately missed the feel of her body in my arms, trying hard to restrain myself from tearing our clothes off and burying myself inside her. Taking deep breathes, I helped her out of her clothes before stripping mine with shaking hands. I desperately needed to feel her naked body around mine. It calmed me.

  I had been so angry after what she told Adrien, and when I went back downstairs later, I knew I wasn’t angry with her. I was angry with myself. I had no control over time, which was slipping through my fingers, fast. In a little over two months she would leave France, leave Adrien and me. My affection for her had roots, and they kept digging deeper with every passing second.

  I had nearly broken the promise I made when I decided to pursue her after she left my townhouse: to enjoy the little time I had with Selene and not to waste it on trivial matters. Although now I saw I had been missing out. Seeing Selene angry had been a turn on. I had stared at her like a bloody fool, speechless. Her eyes had lit up with unconcealed fury and her chest heaved with labored breaths. She had been quite a sight. Maybe I’ll just break my rule and make her angry more often.

  She glanced up at me, stubbornness glinting in her eyes.

  “Let’s take one day at a time. We will deal with everything when the time comes. Are you okay with Adrien calling you that?”

  She bit the corner of her bottom lip, her eyes searching mine. Her face had always been quite easy to read, but right now, it was impossible to do so. “Are you? He’s your son, Remington. You need to decide this.”

  We locked gazes, communicating without words. She looked so certain, and I suspected she needed this. I had seen how her demeanor changed whenever she was with Adrien. It was like everything around her faded. I had done my son an injustice. He needed this, a woman who loved him fiercely and vice versa, someone he could call “mother.” Every child needed someone like Selene, loveable and freely giving of her love, but that didn’t mean I could let her shoulder this responsibility. I scrutinized her face longer, searching for a sign that told me she wasn’t sure about this decision, but all I saw was a fierceness born from the decision she’d already made.

  Finally, I nodded and pulled her into my arms, curling my body behind her. I simply held her. Then something occurred to me. As much as my need to be inside her at this moment was as ferocious as it was the first time I saw her, having her in my arms released another kind of calm within me. I couldn’t explain it, though.

  I didn’t want to define it.

  I WOKE up feeling anxious, hopeless, and empty. I couldn’t breathe and the room felt as if it were closing in on me. My chest hurt and I felt as though my heart had bled dry during the night, even though I had spent most of it curled in Remington’s arms.

  My body trembled as sweat poured from my temples and body, soaking my cami.

  Oh, God, not now. I couldn’t be having one of my panic attacks here with Remington lying next to me. The last time I had one was over six months ago, which had freaked the crap out of my family. I’d been living at home with my parents and sister, and without warning, I had begun hyperventilating.

  I glanced over my shoulder at Remington, illuminated by the moon spilling from the window, sleeping with his lips slightly parted. I slowly pulled his hands from my waist. They tightened slightly, but relaxed again. I stumbled to the bathroom as nausea rose into my throat. I braced my hands on the sink and heaved. Nothing came out. I tried again, my eyes stinging with tears. Finally, my knees gave way and I sank to the floor. God, I was dying. I had to leave the château. I needed air and my heart was beating wildly in my chest. Then huge sobs escaped my lips. I didn’t even know why I was crying, but the tears kept falling. I remember on the night I had the attack months ago, my mother had held me in her arms and rocked me. She’d told me that crying was a way of cleansing the heart of heartache and pain. However, this felt worse than that night and I wasn’t sure my heart could take it anymore.

  I trembled, my body going from hot to cold, and I whimpered. I drew my legs to my chest and tried to take deep breaths like those that I had practiced with my therapist.

  In. Out. In. Out.

  My breathing slowed, but I was still shivering and cold. I craved warmth, but there was no way I could reach the shower.

  Will Remington think I am weak if I wake him?

  Somehow, I didn’t care. He had already seen me at one of my weakest and most vulnerable times when I told him about losing my baby. Not only that, but he knew what it was to be terrified, paralyzed by fear.

  “R-Remington,” I called out, my teeth chattering. I called his name again, but my voice wasn’t loud enough. Nausea hit me again, and I leaned to the side and heaved, unable to hoist myself to my feet.

  “Selene? Mon Dieu, what’s wrong?”

  “I’m s—so cold,” I whimpered. “So sorry to wake you up—”

  “Shh.” He dropped at my side, snatching me up and wrapping me in his arms and hot body. “Take deep breaths.”

  “I did.”

  “Do it again. Slowly.”

  I did as ordered, filling my lungs and letting it all out. He rubbed his hand on my back and along my arms, and my body started to warm up against his, my muscles relaxing with every breath.

  “Wait here. I’ll go and start the shower.”

  I nodded, missing his warmth as soon as he left my side. He returned moments later and reached out for my hands. I stood up and he quickly scooped me in his arms and stepped into the shower. He put me down on my feet, sat down, and pulled me into his lap.

  “Better?”

  “Yes, thank you.” After a few minutes with hot water beating on our backs, I whispered, “Sorry for this.”

  “You should never apologize for something you can’t control. What happened?”

  I told him what happened and then wiped my eyes, and gave him a wobbly smile. “This is the kind of madness you’ll have on your hands if you stick with me. I’m a mess, Remington. Sometimes I am such a mess that I don’t know my right from my left.”

  He ducked his head to meet my gaze. “I don’t see any madness. What I see is a strong woman. Life has knocked you down several times and you’re still standing.”

  I chuckled, a sound between a sob and a laugh. “I keep asking myself why I didn’t know you before.”

  “Because, like everything in life, this is how it was meant to be. Life doesn’t give us reasons. It just gives and takes. It’s a bastard.”

  He held me longer, urging me to take deep breaths while murmuring endearments, encouraging me, distracting me.

  We stepped out of the shower and dried ourselves. After wrapping our bodies with towels, Remington settled me in the bed then went to the kitchen and returned holding a mug filled with some liquid, steaming rising from it.

  “Drink this slowly.”

  I took the mug, lifted it to my lips and blew to cool it before taking a sip. Chamomile tea. He nodded in encouragement for me to take another sip. When I was done, he took the mug and placed it on the nightstand. He headed for the closet and returned with two T-shirts and two boxer shorts.

  I dressed and then looked up at him. “How did you know about the tea?”

  He shrugged. “My mother used to make this for me when I was young. She’d say it cured anxiety.” He smiled fondly. I nodded, smiling back at him as I slipped between the sheets. “Never, ever think you are weak, Selene. And, please know you can wake me up anytime, all right?” he whispered in my ear as he settled behind me, moving his front flush to my back.

  I nodded, snuggled into him and absorbed his warmth into my body. Remington charmed, spoiled, challenged, comforted, and made love to me in equal measures. Shit, there went the waterworks. It was quite overwhelming when I thought about it too much, so I refused to dwell on it. “Thank you for everyt
hing,” I whispered in the dark. He swept the hair off my shoulder and kissed my cool skin, his arm tightening on my waist.

  I lay there in his embrace, breathing and re-evaluating my breakdown. My therapist had warned me even though the attacks had lessened through the years, they might be triggered by something as small as seeing a child smile or seeing a pregnant woman. Adrien’s question must have prompted it.

  I needed to get a hold of myself to avoid incidents like this from happening again. I closed my eyes, allowing Remington’s hard, warm body to guide me into my dreams of him.

  I WOKE up to the feel of Remington’s lips on my body, his strong, eager hands kneading my breasts, and his fingers teasing my nipples.

  “Good morning, ma belle.”

  I moaned and stretched as he took one breast in his mouth. “This . . . I love waking up to this.”

  “Stay,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and full of need. “Stay with me and I can spoil you like this forever.”

  My eyes snapped open and I felt his hands freeze. My head swam, prompted with all kinds of possibilities provoked by his words, feeding that part of my heart that longed for this. A man like Remington.

  He buried his face into the crook of my neck, his warm breath fanning my skin. “I am sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Disappointment shot through my blood, settling low in my stomach.

  I shook my head. “It’s fine.”

  He pulled back and fixed his gaze on me, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Truth time.” I shook my head, not in the mood to play any kind of games, but he held my face in his hands. “What would you do if I asked you to stay a little bit longer?”

  “I would tell you that I couldn’t.”

  “You couldn’t? Or are you afraid?”

  “We’ve known each other for a very short time, and my family is back in New York.” He continued to stare at me. “Remington, you don’t know me. You don’t know the girl inside this body. Remember what happened last night?”

  “I do.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  I pushed him off me and sat up, watching him as he sprawled on the bed, naked and, oh, Jesus, so beautiful. “What do you mean, ‘and what?’ Remington, that was scary shit. I can’t tell you when something like that might happen again. The same thing happened a few months ago. When I finally snapped out of it, it was raining and I was lying in a field somewhere. Remington, I woke up, left my house, and ran to get away from the feeling of being sucked into a hole.”

  He stared at me calmly, one hand thrown behind his head. “Are you done?” He squinted his gorgeous, all-knowing eyes at me, and I could feel them focus on my fears. Don’t get me wrong, I was confident about myself, and I had worked very hard to be where I was today. But times like these snuck up on me, reminding me that beneath my facade, was a woman still trying to find her footing. Remington’s easy acceptance of me, especially after he witnessed one of my worst fears had thrown me off guard.

  I slid out of bed, headed into the bathroom, stripped off my clothing and hopped in the shower, wanting some distance to gather my thoughts away from his distracting gaze.

  Why wasn’t I happy about this? Remington cared, and he didn’t seem shocked after what he saw last night. Then the truth hit me hard. I sucked in a breath and leaned my forehead on the opposite wall to absorb the impact of what I was feeling. I was happy, but at the same time I was terrified of taking that step and opening myself completely to this man.

  I heard the shower door open, and then slide shut behind me. Cool air swirled around me before a hard body pressed against my back. Remington’s arm circled my waist as he swept the hair to one side, kissed my shoulder and then nipped my skin and I felt the fire ignite low in my belly.

  “We all have our demons, and every once in a while, we have to dance with them, embrace them. Having bad memories doesn’t make you broken,” he murmured against my skin, punctuating his words with a kiss. “It doesn’t change a thing about who you are. Even if you were broken, I would take a chance and glue all the pieces together, to make you whole. Because you’re worth it. Life is a gigantic ball full of heartaches, breakups, both good and bad memories, making up, and falling in love. It’s messy but it’s also fun. “

  God, what is he doing to me? He says all the right things at the right time. He disarms me.

  He splayed his fingers on my stomach, pulling me into his body. “If you think for a second that I’m bothered by what happened last night, I’m not. I admire your strength and will to go on, even after everything that has happened to you. “

  I couldn’t take it anymore. I turned in his arms and kissed him hungrily. He pushed me against the shower wall, returning my kiss with fervor, and murmuring endearments under his breath. I soaked up the words, soaked up the kiss, and soaked up every single breath he poured into me.

  “Your legs.” He said the words against my lips. “Put them around me.”

  I did, at the same time he slipped his hand between our bodies, stroking me before guiding his cock to my pussy. He leaned forward so the hot water ran down his back. I couldn’t take my eyes from his even if I wanted to.

  He kissed me firmly then slammed into me hard, and I groaned. A stream of French words poured out from his mouth as he thumped the wall with a fist. “God, you feel fucking incredible. What’s your pleasure, Selene?”

  I squirmed and moaned in desperate need of friction. I cupped his neck and yanked him down, nipping his throat and he trembled, groaned again, pulled back before thrusting back in. “Yes. Just like that. Remington!” I screamed into his shoulder as he continued to leave me both speechless and thoughtless.

  “You’re not perfect, Selene. I wouldn’t be this crazy about you if you were perfect. You hear me?” He rammed his cock into me to make his point.

  “Yes! Oh, my God, Remington, yes!” I threw my head back and his mouth found my neck, kissing and nipping hungrily. “Please, fuck me harder! God, I love it when you do that.”

  He slowed his thrusts, grabbing my thighs and squeezing them.

  I moaned, ragged breaths filling the room. “Why did you stop? I need you so damn bad, Remington.”

  “Did you hear what I said?” He rolled his hips torturously slow, grinding himself into me.

  I blinked at him, wiggling my butt, my lust-filled brain unable to comprehend what he wanted from me.

  He groaned deeply, slid out of me and then reached around me to turn off the water. Then he pushed the shower door open, cupped my ass in his large hands to stop me from sliding down his body and carefully negotiated his way on the stone floor as he headed for the marble counter. He put me down and as soon as my feet touched the floor, he growled, “Turn around.”

  I did, my skin humming at the closeness of his tightly coiled body against my back. God, he looked sexy and untouchable. “Tell me what you want to do to me.” I peeked at him over my shoulder and met his dark, hooded gaze.

  “First I need to make something clear, even if it means fucking you senseless to get the point through.”

  “What point?”

  “You’re not perfect.”

  “Damn it, Remington, can’t we have this conversation later?” He wielded his “stare into submission” look. When I didn’t reply quickly, he pressed a hand on my shoulder, bending over and then pressed my lower back, grabbed my hips and slammed into me. I screamed his name, panting.

  “You’re not perfect,” he repeated again. “And everything about you drives me insane.” He pulled back and thrust deep inside me. “C’est claire?”

  “Clear as a bell,” I gritted out the words. I was close to orgasm, but I couldn’t reach it if he kept torturing me like this. “I want to come, Remington. I can’t take it anymore.”

  He pressed his lips to my ear while his hands squeezed my butt, before slipping a finger to stroke my clit. “I love how wet you are for me, Selene. You better hold on tight and get ready to scream my name because I’m going
to fuck your sweet pussy. I’m going to own it, ma belle. This.” He cupped me with one hand. My body trembled as his words slid down my body, sending heat straight between my legs. “Hands on the counter.”

  I did as I was commanded, eager for him to own every part of me. He already did anyway. His hand skimmed over my lower back, and then pressed gently. He brought his free hand to my chin and tugged it up.

  “Look how beautiful you are, Selene.” My gaze met his in the mirror. “Keep your eyes on the mirror.”

  He pulled his hand back, slid out of me and back in again, his eyes never leaving mine. His jaw was clenched tightly as if he were in pain; however, his eyes said differently. They held so much emotion I was terrified of acknowledging it, so I focused on how he made me feel. This was exquisite torture. I pressed back, but he gripped my hips, a warning flashing in his eyes.

  “Hold on tight, Selene.”

  I gripped the counter tightly as he began pounding into me furiously. His lips were parted in pleasure. The sounds coming from his mouth spurring me on. Just seeing the look on his face—a mix of wild hunger and tenderness—weakened my knees. He quickly caught me around the waist and continued to pump into me. My climax hit me hard.

  “Don’t even think about closing those beautiful eyes.” He growled out the words that proved to be my undoing. My body shivered as I rode my orgasm and Remington followed me not long after. Unable to hold myself up, I slumped forward and he leaned on me, kissing me on my temple, down my neck and spine.

  Oh. My. God. That was intense. Remington had a way of making every session an all-consuming experience.

  Is this how it would always be if I stayed? Could I have this in my forever?

  LIKE EVERY morning, my day started out with running alongside Selene at five thirty. She rarely slept in and I wasn’t very fond of letting her run alone.