Unyielding (Tortured Love Book 1)

by Ravenna Tate

  He pushed two fingers into her pussy, and it burned at first, but when he moved them in and out, the pain subsided and was replaced with the unmistakable certainty that she was going to come again.

  “Lynda, I need to fuck you. I can’t wait any longer.” He removed his fingers, then sat back on his heels and moved her hips closer so they tilted upward. He grasped his cock and guided it toward her wetness.

  It hurt. She held her breath, trying to force her muscles to relax, but it had been a long time and his dick was considerably bigger than two fingers. He sighed, and she felt like shit. When he withdrew, she realized he’d barely pushed a couple of inches inside.

  Merrick watched her face for a few seconds, then bent down and kissed her, gently this time. He tangled his fingers in her hair, and moved his lips over hers without pushing his tongue inside. The kiss was so tender and different from before that it sent emotions bubbling up, and she moaned softly in the back of her throat.

  Her entire body relaxed, and she melted into his strong embrace, letting the peace and desire wash over her. When he sank his cock into her pussy this time, it burned only for a second, and then he sat back on his heels again and began to move.

  Lynda clutched his arms and cried out in pleasure as the most intense orgasm she’d ever had raced through her. He thrust in and out slowly, watching her face, prolonging the contractions until she could barely breathe.

  She moved her hands up and down the muscles in his forearms, mesmerized by his strength. He watched her, his face a mask of power and want. The expression was so damn sexy she could hardly believe this was real. She was married to this man. He was her husband.

  His body was so fucking beautiful she had to touch it. Lynda reached up to stroke the fine hair on his chest, and then traced the outline of his abdominal muscles. Her fingers lazily trailed over the hair there, down to where his cock pumped in and out.

  “That feels so fucking good. You touching me.”

  “You’re so beautiful.”

  “You’re so fucking hot!”

  Merrick withdrew and flipped her onto her stomach. Lynda cried out in pleasure as he smacked her ass cheeks, hard. The arousal coursing through her went into overdrive again. “On your knees. Ass high in the air.”

  She shivered at the tone in his voice. Once she was in position, she gasped as he shoved his dick into her pussy again. At this angle, every hard thrust massaged her sweet spot, and another climax was on the way. He reached around and kneaded her breasts, pinching her nipples, then moved one hand to her sore clit. He massaged it, prolonging her orgasm again.

  “You are so fucking tight! I love fucking you!”

  Lynda didn’t answer. She couldn’t. She was lost in the competing sensations of a sore pussy, a tender clit, an unprecedented third orgasm poised on the edge, and her entire body moving each time he did inside her. She’d never had sex like this. Not even close. It was animalistic, raw, rough, hard, and merciless.

  When he pushed a finger into her asshole again, this time he moved it in time with his cock inside her pussy, and the resulting orgasm had her crying out in surprise. It went on and on, and she whimpered now as still he fucked her hard and rough.

  When he finally came, his cries were loud. Droplets of sweat splashed her back as he pumped deep with his dick into her pussy and his finger in her ass.

  He finished, removed his finger, and she slid down to a prone position. He moved with her, lying on top of her body, breathing heavily. His cock slipped out of her pussy, but he stayed on top of her. She was dizzy and thirsty, plus she needed to pee.

  Finally, he crawled off her, and she lay there, still catching her breath. When she sat up, he was next to her, on his back, one arm thrown over his face. She swore he was already asleep. Lynda watched him for a few seconds, but her immediate needs were too strong to be ignored.

  She used the bathroom, drank some water until she no longer felt dizzy, then crawled next to him in bed and curled up on her side. He stirred for a few seconds, glancing at her like he had forgotten she was there. His eyelids fluttered a few times, and then he propped himself up on one elbow. “Do you want me to sleep in the other room?”

  The pain of that question, asked in such an offhand way, was so great he might as well have slapped her. She’d just had the most intense sex of her life, but there had been no intimacy, and there was none now in the afterglow. He didn’t even want to sleep in the same bed with her. He might as well toss a fifty on the nightstand and be done with it.

  Was this what he’d done to all the women he’d fucked? Why had any of them bothered coming back a second time?

  Because he’s filthy rich, you moron.

  Merrick sat up, finally looking at her like he actually realized who she was. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”

  Despite the concern in his voice, she could barely manage an answer. “No. You didn’t hurt me.” She wasn’t all right, however.

  “What’s wrong, then?”

  “I’m not sure how to tell you.”

  “Try.”

  Now he merely sounded impatient instead of concerned. She’d sound like an idiot if she tried to explain her thinking, but she couldn’t leave things like this. “I had hoped this meant we’d try to like each other, at least.”

  He nodded slowly. “We will try to do that, but you need to know something about me. I don’t do romance. Not—”

  The most profound sadness passed over his face, but then it was gone. What the hell just happened? What had he been about to say?

  “I don’t do romance. The sex was good. Hell, it was fucking fantastic. But don’t expect hearts and flowers from me. It’s not who I am.”

  She couldn’t speak. If she did, her voice would crack and she’d cry. She wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.

  He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’ll sleep in the other room. We both have a lot to do tomorrow, so try to get some rest.”

  When she still didn’t answer him, he crawled off the bed, gathered up his sweats and hoodie, and left the room without so much as another glance at her. Lynda had never felt so alone, used, or unwanted in her life.

  By the time she finally drifted off to sleep, after crying so hard she had trouble breathing, she decided it would be a cold day in hell before she had sex with Merrick again. The hell with him, no matter how fucking good it had been, or how gorgeous he was. She wasn’t his plaything, and she would not allow him to treat her like that.

  Chapter Seven

  Merrick woke to his damn phone chirping. It was Dean, asking him when the hell he planned on coming to the office to finish transferring the company. “Hang on a minute.” Merrick put the phone on the nightstand and glanced around.

  What the hell time was it?

  He heard voices, so he shrugged on his sweatpants and followed them. Three members of his security team were in the dining room, eating breakfast. When they realized he was in the room, they shot him guilty looks.

  “Sorry, boss,” said Deke. “We all got hungry. The front desk said to call down when you want breakfast and they’ll send it right up.”

  “Call down for me then.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Merrick returned to his room and was about to step under the shower spray when he remembered Lynda. Fuck. He turned off the water and went across the hall into her room. His heart nearly stopped. The room was empty. No Lynda, no luggage, and no sign that anyone had slept here last night.

  He turned around, intending to return to his security staff, but Leo was already behind him. “She was up three hours ago. Said she needed to transfer the company this morning, and asked someone to drive her to your attorney’s office. Sounded legit, so Nate drove her. Did we fuck up?”

  Merrick ran a hand through his hair then realized how that looked, so he put on his neutral face. He had a lot of practice doing so, but under these circumstances it took extra concentration. “No. No, you didn’t. I’ll need that breakfast to go. And lots of coffee.”<
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  When he returned to his room, he realized he’d left Dean on the phone. The call was disconnected, so he texted Dean, saying he was on the way, and to have Lynda wait for him. Merrick took a long shower to collect his thoughts, and to try to wash away the scent from their lovemaking. Though he had a pretty damn good idea already that a shower would never erase last night from his memory.

  He’d never had sex like that, and he meant no disrespect to Theresa’s memory. But Lynda had shocked him with her responsiveness and her capacity for orgasm. Was there any feeling more powerful in the entire fucking world than making a woman come? She’d had three or four, by his count, though there hadn’t been much blood left in his brain by the end so he might have imagined that last one.

  When he’d first tried to enter her and realized he was hurting her, he’d felt like shit. He hadn’t been thinking. She was so damn sexy and alive, he’d just tried to force his way in instead of remembering how long it had been for her.

  But then it was better once he’d helped her relax. And it kept on getting better the longer he held back his own climax. Next time, he’d use lube and a condom so he could fuck her in that round ass.

  He wondered if she’d mind being spanked. He wanted to hold her down against the bed or a table or something, and paddle that fucking gorgeous ass until it was red. Then he’d fuck her into next week.

  Damn. His cock was ready right now, but that would have to wait. He had a company to acquire. Obviously that was the only thing on her mind as well, because she hadn’t bothered to wait until he was up this morning to take off for Dean’s office. She wanted to take care of it right away. Had Todd called her, or was this her own doing?

  Well, what did you expect? She knows that’s why you married her. This was what you wanted.

  So why did he feel so conflicted over it? Why couldn’t he seem to forget the look on her face when he asked if she wanted him to sleep in his own room? What had that been about? Had she wanted him to stay there? No. Why would she? She wasn’t in this for the romance. She was in it for the money, right?

  Mulling over her response brought back the memory of what he’d almost said. He’d almost told her he didn’t do romance, at least not anymore. He’d almost let something about Theresa slip out. He’d have to be careful. In his defense, he’d had very little blood in his brain at the time, but still. She wasn’t stupid. She’d pick up on it if he kept slipping up like that.

  Once his shower was done, Merrick got dressed then asked Leo to pack for him. He wolfed down some food and coffee, then nodded in appreciation as Deke handed him a full cup of coffee in a Styrofoam cup. The three men were more than his head security detail. They doubled as valets, errand runners, and anything else he needed. He trusted them with his life.

  It was nice to be back in his own car again instead of the rented limo from yesterday, but he swore he could smell Lynda’s perfume. She’d never been in here, so the smell must be in his head. The woman was already under his skin, and he didn’t understand why. It’s not like he’d never had sex before and then left in the morning, or sometimes that same night, and simply went on with his life.

  Sure, this was different because he was married to her, but that didn’t mean he had to act like a lovesick teen. He didn’t do romance. Not anymore. Not since Theresa.

  Merrick began to feel like his usual self as soon as the car pulled up outside the building that housed the firm where Dean was a senior partner. He was used to working on Sundays, as was Dean, so it seemed perfectly normal to stroll into the building and toward the bank of elevators today.

  He inhaled the familiar scents of polished wood and floor cleaner, and then took another long inhale once the doors opened on the tenth floor. Yes. Everything here was well-known to him, and none of it reminded him of the way Lynda had looked with her blonde hair spread out on that pillow. The dark leather furniture looked nothing like her big blue eyes, gazing up at him with lust and awe as he fucked her silly.

  The pictures of sailboats and polo ponies that adorned the walls didn’t resemble that plump, luscious ass as he slammed into her from behind. And the tasteful brass plaque on Dean’s door, indicating whose office it guarded, had nothing to do with her voice, so full of passion and surrender.

  He burst inside, half expecting Lynda to be gone, but she wasn’t. She stood next to the windows with Dean, talking like they were old friends. Both turned and smiled at him, as if this meeting on a late Sunday morning was the most normal thing in the world.

  Lynda looked stunning, clad in a cream-colored blazer and slack set, with just the barest hint of her lavender tank top, peeking out above her cleavage. She wore simple gold jewelry, and matching sandals that showed off her recent pedicure. She had very pretty feet. He hadn’t told her that. He really should have.

  Dean walked over and shook his hand. “Well, it’s about time. Your wife called me hours ago, then faxed over the paperwork.” Dean gestured toward the table. “Sit down. Let’s get this done.”

  Merrick glanced toward Lynda, who looked cool as a cucumber. “May I speak to you alone for a moment?”

  Dean’s gaze faltered. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, nothing. I need a few minutes alone with my wife.”

  Dean put up his hands. “Fine by me. It’s your dime.”

  Merrick waited until Dean left, mentally laughing at the expression. Dean used it a lot, and it was hysterical because he billed three hundred and fifty dollars an hour for weekend work. Lynda started to speak, but Merrick held up a hand. “Me first. How did you find his number?”

  “It’s in your phone.”

  He blinked a few times, unsure he’d heard her correctly. “You were in my room and didn’t wake me up?”

  “I tried to. You were out pretty deeply.”

  Moving closer, he studied her face in the dim light streaming through the blinds. Her eyelids were puffy, and it was now obvious she hadn’t had much sleep. He’d fucked her good and hard her on their wedding night and then left her alone. How long had she been awake?

  Nice one, Merrick. First class, all the way.

  She wasn’t a casual fling. She was his fucking wife. He’d do well to remember that from this point on.

  “Did you have the papers with you, then?”

  “Yes. There’s a fax machine in the hotel suite.”

  Her voice was cold and hard, and her jaw was set. She was really pissed off at him, but this wasn’t the time or place to have a conversation about last night. “Have you eaten breakfast?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you not realize I needed to be here to sign as well?” This was very awkward. She wasn’t offering any information, or trying to explain herself. Merrick didn’t like feeling as if he was the one on the wrong end of anything. “You should have waited until I woke so we could come here together.”

  She shrugged. God damn. She actually shrugged, as if it didn’t matter at all! “Lesson learned. Next time I will.”

  It finally hit him that she had no intention of apologizing or offering a reason for her behavior. To belabor the point would make him look childish. “Fine. It’s done. The papers are here and so are we. Let’s finish this.

  She smiled, but it was forced. “Okay.”

  “Lynda, why didn’t you wait for me?” Pathetic. He sounded like he was begging.

  “I don’t know, Merrick. I had no ulterior motive. I simply wanted to take care of this because I said I would. I realized once I arrived that you needed to be here, too.”

  “Didn’t Dean ask you why we didn’t come together?”

  “No, actually, he did not.”

  Merrick knew Dean wouldn’t ask. He had too much discretion. “What were you two talking about?”

  “Football.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “We were discussing pro football. Your attorney is a huge Giants fan.”

  “Yeah, I know. I didn’t realize you were, though.”

  “I’m not. My father is, and I gr
ew up listening to him rant about them.”

  He glanced over her outfit again. She really did look nice. “Is that new?”

  “I bought it recently, yes.”

  So she had it packed in her suitcase. Why? “Where had you planned on wearing it? We didn’t decide to take care of this until last night.”

  “I wasn’t sure what we’d do the day after our wedding. Most people go on a honeymoon, so I wanted to be prepared for any occasion.”

  Her voice trailed off by the end of the sentence until it was barely above a whisper. Holy shit. She had hoped he’d take her somewhere. That’s why she had so much luggage. And that’s why she had such pretty underwear, and this very stylish outfit, packed inside it.

  Instead, they were spending the day after their wedding taking care of business matters, and doing a lousy job of making small talk. Merrick had to say something, but he had no clue what. They both turned at the sound of voices in the hall, and Merrick realized he was paying a shitload of money to stand here and feel uncomfortable talking to his wife.

  He strode over and opened the door, then asked Dean to come inside. He would talk to Lynda about this later. They had the rest of their lives to talk, and it wouldn’t cost him any money to do so.

  Chapter Eight

  Lynda couldn’t help gawking as Merrick led her on a tour of the apartment that would now be her home as well. He had a small staff, and they had quarters on the first floor near the service entrance. The main entrance was on the opposite side of the apartment, and it was only accessible by a private elevator that required a code. He explained he changed it every month, and encouraged her to memorize it rather than keeping it written down somewhere.

  He had added the cell numbers of his security staff to her phone during the ride from Dean’s office to the apartment, and then asked her if she’d be more comfortable with a female bodyguard.

  “Bodyguard?”

  “Yes. You need one. But don’t worry. You’ll never know he or she is there.”

  “Let me think about that for day or so. I’ll let you know.” Who the hell was this guy that he kept such tight security around him? She hadn’t realized it would be like this.