by Gemma James
“Yep.”
Cocky sonofa—
He thrust his cock into me, and I gasped. The ability to think or speak evaporated. He shoved deep, his girth stretching me wide, impaling me with nothing but him.
God. Rafe Mason was inside me again. I could hardly grasp it, this moment that was too surreal to be real. I pinched the back of my hand just to make sure this wasn’t another dream, that I wouldn’t jerk awake to find an empty bed and an even emptier heart.
But this was real.
Real.
Propping on his elbows, he leaned over me and stared into my eyes. Barely breathing. Not speaking. Not moving. Just there inside me, rock hard and pulsating.
Driving me fucking insane.
The need for more tore through my chest, closed my throat, and burned behind my eyes. I squeezed them shut and fought impending tears. He filled me up so much, too much, until there wasn’t any room left for myself.
“Rule number four,” he whispered, his lips brushing my cheekbone. “Don’t ever hold back your tears.”
My lids fluttered open, allowing hot, salty drops to trickle from my eyes…allowing him to lap up my pain with a greedy tongue.
“I was dying without you,” I managed to say beyond the ache in my throat and the furious despair that dripped down my cheeks. I’d endured six months of facing the stillness of night in the midst of nightmares. He’d promised me the world, but in the end he’d turned it upside down without a thought.
“Me too, baby.” His hoarse voice traveled through my body, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. He thrust inside me with two languid slides of his cock, and that’s all he gave me before pulling out. He jerked me up by the arms, spun me around, and bent me over the mattress. I gripped the bedding in both hands, my chest heaving with each inhale and exhale, colliding with the sound of his shallow breaths at my ear.
“Do you trust me?”
I wouldn’t have hesitated before he’d left, but now all I offered was a nod. A lie.
I wanted to trust him.
“Don’t move,” he said, his tone commanding obedience.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“Need lube for this. I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“You don’t have condoms, but you’ve got lube?”
He brushed my hair to the side, and his lips trailed down my spine. “Sweetheart, I didn’t need condoms because you’re it for me. I’ve had six months of nothing but lube, my fucking hand, and a shitload of vulgar fantasies all starring you.” He pushed away from the bed, and his confession of celibacy heated me from the inside out. I was relieved yet terrified because I could already tell how worked up he was.
My ass was on the line. Literally. And he’d already said I wasn’t allowed to tell him no.
There was no no.
Rafe had finally claimed me. My body, my will, my life.
My everything.
I was a man obsessed, a man on the brink, and Alex would suffer for it. Even knowing this, I couldn’t go back. I’d finally done what I’d thought about doing since I parted ways with Jax amidst the inferno of our destruction.
Alex and I had come full circle. I remembered every touch, every cry of pain, every thrill that stormed through my blood at knowing she was at my mercy. I wanted her there again, unable to get away or deny me anything. As I squeezed the silky, water-based substance into my hand and palmed my cock, the darkness inside me took hold. Potent and undeniable, I couldn’t stop this if I wanted to. The idea of slipping into the one place no one had fucked was too tempting.
She must have sensed the near frantic need consuming me because she clenched her ass cheeks and squirmed. I stilled her with a firm hand on her back, and that’s when my demons surfaced. My whole body trembled as I gouged my fingers into her skin. But even as I held her perfect ass in my hands, the ghost of Cleft assaulted me. The rapes in prison were never far, always a part of me, no matter how much I tried to bury the memories.
Shuddering, I closed my eyes for a few seconds and eventually came back to myself. To her. She was trembling as much as I was.
“Are you scared?”
“Y-yes.”
“I’ll be gentle. Get on the bed and tuck your knees under you. I want your ass in the air.”
She climbed with a half sob, half whimper. “I’m not ready for this,” she said, her voice full of uncertainty. Yet she raised her butt anyway, displaying how easily she’d give in to me—how she’d always give in to me.
Grinding my teeth, I smacked her backside hard. “Higher.”
She immediately capitulated. I spread her cheeks, fingers teasing the opening of her tight hole I couldn’t wait to penetrate, and settled behind her. I dragged my index finger lower and probed her drenched pussy, then slowly withdrew, making her raise her bottom without realizing it because she was too busy chasing my touch.
“You want me to be your first, don’t you?”
As a tremor seized her, she gave a reluctant nod.
“Good girl.”
“Why are you being like this?”
“Like what?”
“So…cold.”
My spirit took a nosedive toward hell, thrashing and screaming the whole way, begging me to save me from myself. She was right, but why I’d succumbed to treating her less than the treasure she was…that I couldn’t explain.
“You signed up for this,” I said, attempting to divert her with an ill-conceived cop-out, “the instant you said ‘stay’ on that island. I sure as fuck remember that night.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“You need to understand who I am.” She should be scared. Her pleasure would be fought for and earned through her tears and pleas every fucking time. That’s what got me harder than fuck. I leaned over her back and brought my mouth to her ear. “Just submit, baby. Everything you’re holding onto…let it go.”
“What if I can’t?”
“I know you can.” I worked a finger into her puckered hole. She clenched her jaw, and I withdrew and dipped in a couple more times. If I weren’t such a shameless prick, I’d prepare her with a butt plug first, but I couldn’t wait. I needed to take her this way—needed it more than anything. I’d dreamed about it obsessively, jerked off at the fantasy the whole time we’d been apart.
The last thing no one had taken from her…it was mine.
I angled her face so I could see her eyes. Shit, there were those tears again. As I positioned the tip of my cock and inched into her, I leaned down and dragged my tongue up her cheek, tasting the addictive flavor of her pain. Giving her time to adjust, I waited several heartbeats, ready to explode, to pound my stress away.
To feel her tight around me.
I pushed in further, and she yelped. A man with a heart would have stopped for a few seconds so she could get used to my body invading hers, but I could barely manage to keep my pace slow and steady. I hungered for it too much. I pushed in another inch, eliciting another cry of pain.
“It hurts!”
Even as her muscles sucked me deeper, driving me to total annihilation, I hated myself for the heaving sobs that broke free of her twisted mouth. Her hands formed two tight fists, and she screwed her eyes shut. I was doing this to her, pushing her, being a complete and utter jackass…making her hate me.
Drawing in a breath, I willed my dick to take a breather. “Baby, you’ve gotta relax, or it won’t stop hurting.”
“I can’t!” she shrieked. “You’re too big.” She tried crawling up the bed, making it a couple of inches before I pulled her ass flush with my groin and plunged into her. The scream that tore from her mouth lanced through me. She attempted to escape me again, but I held her captive in my madness, my hands gripping her perfectly round bottom and keeping her exactly where I wanted her.
“Take deep breaths. Relax those muscles.”
“Please, Rafe,” she sobbed.
I pulled out slowly, opened the bottle of lubricant, and fisted my cock with a wet hand, then I worked my way back inside
her, rubbing her cheeks as I settled into a gentle rhythm. “Your ass is mine, no one else’s.”
Slowly, her body relaxed, despite her hiccupping mewls that broke me to pieces because they reminded me of that fucking underground tunnel. Reminded me of her on her toes, taking the harsh bite of Brock’s whip.
Now I was the one hurting her, and I couldn’t stop, couldn’t even grasp why I needed to push her to the breaking point. Not even hunting Brock down and torturing the fucker to death had eased this thing inside me.
But she did. Every salty drop glistening on her cheek, every howl of pain quieted the raging river of lunacy storming through me.
She was my elixir to sanity.
And I was showing her the blackness that tainted my soul. I was giving her what she had begged for in that dark tunnel—the guy my amnesia had nearly killed forever.
I wound an arm around her middle, mindful of her tattoo, and brought her upright until we kneeled together on the bed. I was deep inside her, and falling even deeper as she leaned her head back on my shoulder and stared at me with tear-filled eyes. Fuck, her ass felt good, closing around my cock with unbelievable tightness. My gaze lowered to her throat. That expanse of skin tempted me, and I thought about curling my hand around her neck, but something held me back.
The flashes of blood spurting from Perrone’s neck; the euphoria of choking every last breath from him. And more recently, the copious amount of adrenaline that had flushed my veins as I meted out what Brock had coming to him. He’d been the only one to escape the police, but he hadn’t eluded me.
I couldn’t risk losing control with Alex—she meant the fucking world to me, and I wasn’t about to endanger her. Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
“I love you,” I whispered, my lips nearing hers, my cock nestling a little deeper, making her wince. I searched the green sea of her eyes, hoping I’d find forgiveness for taking her like the monster I was.
But I only saw pain.
I reached for her clit and flicked lightly. Her mouth opened, forming a delicate O. I was about to come, was too fucking close, so I tempered myself and gave her the time she needed to catch up. Her body flushed with impending orgasm as I worked my fingers in and out of her cunt. Even in the dim room, overwhelmed by winter and the shadows of night, the sheen of her pink-tinged skin was unmistakable.
“Crash with me,” I said before claiming her mouth, adding pressure to her clit, smothering her throaty cries that didn’t speak the language of pain, loathing, or even anger. Those muffled howls were an oath of uninhibited surrender. They were pure fucking ecstasy.
“No!” Rafe thrashed beside me in bed, pulling me from sleep. “Get off of me,” he said with an agonized groan. Undeniable pain laced his voice, and his helplessness suspended me in a state of horror.
“Rafe,” I said in an urgent whisper. “Wake up.” I settled my hand on his shoulder, but he screeched a louder cry. Bolting upright, he lunged for me. His sweaty hands clamped around my neck, unrelenting in their intent. I wheezed a plea and squinted at the doppelganger strangling me. Rafe wasn’t unleashing an act of sexual perversion—he was a madman lost to the terror of a nightmare.
“Rafe!” I fought for air, but his hands emanated rage. Cleft’s name bled from his lips with a sob.
“It’s me…” I said, barely getting the words out. Entrapped in full panic mode now, I dug my nails into the backs of his immovable hands.
He’s going to kill me.
The shadow of his massive form grew smaller, darker. My heartbeat throbbed in my ears, like a slow and steady bass drum counting down the last seconds of my life. I yanked his hair, scratched his scruffy face…
Blackness.
A loud gasp tore from my lips, and I sucked oxygen into my lungs as if I’d never breathe again. Clutching my throat, I coughed as Rafe’s hunched form at the edge of the bed crystalized. Through my tears, I watched his expression crumble. Tugging the sweat-drenched strands on his head, he shuttered his gaze.
“I-I’m sorry,” he said, huffing rapid breaths.
“What”—I coughed again—“happened?”
He ran a trembling hand down his face then stared at me with tortured green eyes. “I was dreaming…” He exhaled in a rush. “I could’ve fucking killed you.”
I swallowed hard, one hand still massaging my throat, and scooted into a semi-reclined position. Somewhere between passing out and coming to, he’d switched on the light.
“What were you dreaming about?”
That’s when he shut down. We could have been sitting in pitch black, and I still would have sensed him withdrawing.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said, looking somewhere over my shoulder.
“You mentioned Cleft.”
“I don’t remember.” He reached overhead and tugged on the chain to the light, sending the room into darkness again. The mattress shifted under his weight, and his trembling arms enclosed me, urging me to lie back on the bed. Burying his nose in my hair, he settled his body over mine. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“But you did.” I wasn’t talking about the choking or even the anal sex. By the heavy moment of silence that fell upon us, I figured he knew that.
“I don’t deserve you, Alex. I should let you go, but I can’t.”
“I’m not asking you to let me go. I’m just asking you to be honest with me.”
“I’ll end up destroying you.”
My heart nearly stopped. That statement was too close to what he’d said in my nightmare while we were trapped in that tunnel. Part of me was scared he was right. The way he’d taken me tonight, forcing his cock in my ass…the residual pain of that pinged through my chest. Then to wake up to him choking me, really choking me as if he meant it and wouldn’t stop. As if he couldn’t stop. He’d spit out Cleft’s name while in the throes of his nightmare, all the while squeezing the life out of me. Those were the actions of a tortured man.
“After you left,” I began, hesitant because I wasn’t sure how receptive he would be to what I was about to say, “I started seeing a therapist. Maybe talking about what Cleft did will—”
“We’re not talking about the past. We’re moving forward.”
“This isn’t moving forward.”
“Leave it alone,” he warned, maneuvering until we were on our sides. He spooned me and grabbed my breast with one hand while the other wedged between my thighs.
“No,” I said, a challenge in my tone. “I won’t leave it alone. You can’t shove everything under the rug and pretend it didn’t happen.”
“You just broke the third rule, sweetheart.” He slid a leg between mine, opening me for his plundering touch. “If you break the rules, you get punished.”
Like the whore I was, I spread for him, despising myself for wishing he’d push that finger deeper. “This is your idea of punishment?”
“Yep,” he whispered, touching me more fully, his breath heating my ear. He forced his free hand between my lips and depressed my tongue until I gagged. “Fuck, you turn me on so much,” he said, thrusting devious fingers in and out of my pussy. “So fucking wet.” He pushed against my backside with a grunt.
I bucked into his hand, moaning my pleasure around the fingers that gagged me, drenching the fingers that fucked me. Shameless, I pleaded for him to let me come in muffled whines, inaudible whines, yet he somehow understood them.
Understood them enough to yank his touch from the wet, throbbing place that ached for release.
His fingers slipped from my mouth, and our torturous desire for each other blasted the room in shallow breaths. Tears wandered down my cheeks. Frustrated, angry tears. He wasn’t being fair. I moved against his thigh, sliding in my wet need, but he removed his leg. Gathering my wrists in one hand, he held them in front of me, far away from my throbbing pussy.
“Are you gonna tell me no again?”
I almost shook my head until I realized it was a trick question. Instead, I pressed my legs together, willing the space betwe
en to simmer down. As if my stillness taunted him, he jammed a finger between my thighs and teased my slit. I arched into his erection, unable to stop myself, and rubbed my ass against his length. Just baiting him, probably playing with fire. He dipped a thumb inside me before wedging it between my lips.
The way Zach used to, except my reaction was vastly different. I sucked my arousal off, quieting a frustrated groan. Rafe would keep me strung all night. I dreaded it, but I also lived for it, knowing how his mind games heightened the thrill. The thought of being trapped by orgasm denial made me squirm. God, I was on the cusp of splintering.
“Do you want my cock in your ass again?” To emphasize the threat, he inched his tip into my tender hole.
I nearly shook my head, almost told him no.
Another trick question.
Going completely still, I counted, drawing in even breaths through my nose. He brushed his fingers over my nipple, and I bit my lip hard to keep from moaning out loud.
“Good girl.”
He shifted until the tip of his cock nudged my pussy, and I thought I’d die. How could he hold back so well? Especially since he was as worked up as I was. His chest pressed against my back in a furious tide, and I imagined his mouth stretched tight to withhold a curse. He couldn’t hide what his body wanted. His heavy breathing and hard cock gave him away.
He nipped my ear, and his lazy caress on my nipple turned to a hard pinch. “You’re so intuitive, knowing when to submit without a single word. So fucking perfect.” He tongued the rim of my ear, and I broke out in shivers.
“No more questions. Are we clear?”
No. We weren’t clear at all. Somehow, I’d find out why he’d left the way he had. I wouldn’t stop until I got him to talk to me. Otherwise, this would never work if we kept secrets from each other—if we couldn’t compromise. If we lied to each other.
But he’d left me no other choice. The word no wasn’t allowed in my vocabulary, so with my body on fire, held captive by my unwavering need for him, I told him what he wanted to hear.
“We’re clear.”
I’d been holding her for hours, comforted by the steady sound of her breathing. Maybe insomnia was a blessing, considering what I’d nearly done to her. If I hadn’t woken up when I had…a shudder tore through me, and I held on a little tighter.
