“Ride my cock. Hard.”
Leaning back, I did as instructed, grinding my pelvis up and down. My ass repeatedly smacked against his thighs, and the sound echoed in our small space. I arched my back, and he gripped the nape of my neck, tugging my hair.
“Christ…you’re mine. Tell me you are mine.”
Looking deep in his glimmering eyes, allowing him to see into my soul and the sincerity of my pledge to him, I replied, “Yes. I am yours and only yours.”
“I have missed your body. I love burying my cock deep inside your sweet cunt.”
How does he do that? He managed to take a word most women find overwhelmingly crude and make it sound so sexy.
His arms banded around me, holding me possessively, as he sealed his mouth around mine consuming me in a deep, lush kiss. I couldn’t seem to pull my lips from his. We were like to two animals, clawing and scratching, devouring the other’s body, trying to soothe our aching appetites.
Wanting him to see my face, I tore myself away from his luscious, perfect mouth, and he ran his hand up and down my back then glided his fingertips over my clit. This man knew my body. He repeatedly hit my sweet spot causing my body to arch back as shuddering waves rocked through my core. The orgasm burst through with intensity, and my muscles clenched around him. He followed, not far behind me. I collapsed, panting and moaning into his stiffened shoulder to muffle the cries of pleasure, as he pumped his orgasm into me.
“That…That was incredible,” he said, his voice thick with relief.
“It’s always incredible.”
Laughing, he replied, “Well, I can’t argue with that.”
Holliday
After my shower, I found Ronan on the terrace, sipping a glass of whiskey. Leaning against the doorjamb, I drank him in. His sexy body was dressed casually in a pair of navy shorts and a blue-and-white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He was looking out over the dark evening sky, which paled in comparison to my view.
The tension he was harboring from before had eased. His phone hadn’t made a peep for a few hours. I took that as a sign that no news was good news. I am sure that he had mixed feelings regarding the matter.
The sound of my Prada ankle-cuff sandals hitting the stone tile pulled Ronan from his thoughts. Turning to face me, he ran his hand over the curve of his perfectly stubbled jaw and then let out a deep breath.
“My beauty, you look absolutely…well, beautiful.”
Since we were going to a less formal place this evening, I opted for a pair of black crepe shorts and an ivory colored lace tank top.
Taking a step towards me, he gently tugged my sleek ponytail.
“I quite like your hair styled this way,” he said softly, feathering kisses against my neck.
“I thought you preferred it down, fanned out around my shoulders, against expensive sheets,” I teased.
He grinned, and I ran my hands over his chest, the fabric of his shirt soft on the tips of my fingers. With one hand around my waist, he gathered me closer, drawing me into a deep kiss. His tongue licked mine, teasing me, driving me wild with lust.
Our passionate kiss was interrupted by a knock at the door. I shot Ronan a puzzled look. Grabbing me by the hand, he pulled me back into the living area. Before I knew it, a three-piece mariachi band had entered our villa, followed by three carts of delish Mexican food and a bottle of tequila with freshly sliced limes.
“We’re staying in this evening.” He spun me around before dipping me backwards. “I hope you don’t mind, but I want you all to myself tonight he whispered.
I didn’t mind. Not one single bit.
My lifeless body jolts up and down. All around I hear grunting and laughter. Relentlessly, my body is ravaged. Alcohol stings my nose, and tobacco-laced breath rushes over my neck, causing my stomach to convulse. The pain around my wrists is excruciating. After several minutes, the pressure releases, and I exhale deeply. A calloused hand grazes my cheek and then grasps my throat at the base. Through blurry eyes, I see myself pinned beneath him— one of Satan’s minions.
Coldness rushes over me, and my body goes numb. As panic sweeps through me, my heart pounds against my rib cage. I can’t feel my arms, my legs, my fingers, or my toes. The one thing I can feel is this monster shoving inside me, and I don’t want to.
“No, please. I don’t want this!”
My brain screams at my body, shouting and urging my limbs to shake off the numbness and fight back against the force of this devil in the flesh who is terrorizing my body with his.
“You shouldn’t have left me, Holli,” he hisses through panting breaths. “I gave you everything, and you left me.”
Tears burn my eyes, spilling down my cheeks. The ringing in my ears is almost welcome relief, attempting to drown out the sounds of his heavy breaths.
“Who do you think you are that you can just toss me aside, making a fool of me?” he snarls. His tone is icy, but his breath is hot against my ear.
A violent shudder moves up my spine. More tears grow thick in my throat, and I cry out in pain before begging, “Please stop hurting me, Derek!”
“I’m branding you as mine as a reminder that you will never fuck another man without thinking of me first.” He roars. “Mine forever.”
The words ring through my ears. It’s agonizing, like fingernails slowly grinding down a chalkboard.
“No, I’ll never be yours!”
Suddenly, all the muscles in my body clench. I hear a loud smack, and my hand throbs with a hot, stinging pain.
“Holliday!?”
My tear-filled eyes darted around the dimly lit room. Ronan was hovering over me, rubbing the side of his face. The scent of salt water rushed to my nose, and a warm, tranquil breeze fluttered over my body.
“Are you okay?” He knelt at the side of the bed. “Baby, please answer me.”
My skin was damp, my knuckles white from gripping the bedsheets. After a beat, his voice finally rang through, and I managed to reply. “Yes, I think so.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded, placing my palm on his cheek. Even though my mind was fogged with tequila, I was embarrassed and utterly confused. My body felt heavy and weak.
“Did I do this?” I asked, rubbing my thumb over his burning cheek.
Nodding, he drew my palm to his lips, pressing a soft kiss. “In your sleep, you were kicking your legs and calling Derek’s name. I tried to wake you up, but that must have scared you,” he replied quietly.
“I…I’m so…s-sorry,” I stammered. “I don’t know…what came over me.” Realizing he had just witnessed one of my night terrors, I began to sob.
He sat on the bed cradling me in his arms. “Shh— I’ve got you,” he murmured into my hair.
Tears trickled, stinging my heated cheeks. The mixture of lingering booze in my system and the oncoming headache hindered my ability to think clearly. Flashes of the ugly memories swept through my mind. When I went back to that place so vividly, guilt, fear, and sadness took over, crippling my emotions.
But why do I go back there? What is my trigger? Think! Dammit! Think!
“Please don’t cry. You’re safe with me,” he said, kissing my shoulder. Curling beside me, he wrapped one arm over my stomach and his left leg fell over both of mine. “Talk to me. You had a nightmare, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You were dreaming about the night you were…” He swallowed hard. “That horrible night.”
“Yes,” I sobbed. “Something triggered the nightmare.”
Where is that music coming from?
“Do you hear that music?” I looked up and saw the speaker in the ceiling.
“Oh, yes. I must have forgotten to turn off the sound system after we went to bed.”
After turning on the light, he climbed out of bed and walked over to the living area. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the lyrics. Then he flipped off the music, and after a few moments, it hit me.
Oh God! Oh no!
; Sweat formed on the back of my neck. Ronan crossed back towards me and then stopped at the foot of the bed. Rolling up from underneath the covers, I stared into his beautiful, green eyes—and I remembered.
Images of the two of us having sex, the music pounding through the speakers, and our bodies coupled with odor of cigars and tequila all hurled back to my memory.
God, I feel sick. Fuck!
“Hey,” he said, climbing back into bed. “You look ill. Are you okay? Do you want some water?”
I started crying again, telling him that I was so sorry. Parts of me were damaged and broken, and I was sorry for that. Ronan was an incredibly understanding man, but would he understand this? Could he ever forgive me?
“Talk to me.”
I couldn’t stand this pain. My heart plunged to the pit of my stomach.
“Last time I had a nightmare was when you left and I was alone at The York.”
“What do you think happened this time?” he asked softly. His eyes met mine, and somehow, I thought he knew.
I expelled a deep breath. “The cigars and the music, I think triggered that memory.” With my voice barely a whisper, I managed to croak out, “And…maybe even the sex.”
My heart crumbled as sadness washed over Ronan’s face. Like the glow of a fading flame, the sparkle dimmed from his eyes. He stared at me blankly, and after a few moments, he lowered his head. Then he climbed out of bed and into the shower.
Water poured over him as he stood motionless with his palms pressed flat against the tile wall and his legs stretched behind him. Steam enveloped the room and fogged the glass, so I could only see the shadow of his body as I lay in bed sobbing. No doubt he was trying to drown himself or wash away the soul-crushing pain I had caused him. I should have followed suit and marched right out to the water. Let the waves carry me away to the darkest depths of the ocean.
Had I soiled the most intimate part of our relationship? What the fuck have I done? I must have shattered him into a million pieces. Fearing something was broken between us now, I wasn’t sure how to repair the damage. At some point, I managed to fall asleep through my aching pain and muffled sobs. And I never heard or felt Ronan slip back into bed.
Our last full day in paradise before jetting back to Manhattan and we had to spend it putting on a show for the tabloids. While I wasn’t thrilled with the idea, I was resolved to remain upbeat for Ronan. Being photographed alongside my lethally sexy movie star boyfriend while spending a romantic day on a private yacht? My life could have been worse.
Although, after last night, I wasn’t sure that our slightly scripted romantic adventure was still happening. Lying in bed, I stared at the ceiling, listening to the waves crashing outside. Ronan’s side of the bed was cold, and he was nowhere in sight. Uneasy, I rolled out of bed and then padded on bare feet towards the living room.
While wandering aimlessly around the villa, I noticed that Ronan’s pajama bottoms were casually tossed over the chair in the bathroom. Well, at least his luggage was still in the closet. He hadn’t fled and left me to fend for myself in a foreign country. He probably went for a workout or a walk. I was sure he needed to clear his head.
But when I checked my phone to see if he’d sent me a message, there was nothing. His iPad was sitting on the dining room table though. And a notepad and pen were nearby, but nothing was written. So I turned his iPad on. Several articles were open.
HOW TO HELP A LOVED ONE WHO’S BEEN RAPED
SOMEONE I LOVE HAS BEEN SEXUALLY ASSAULTED
RAPE CRISIS INFORMATION
WHAT TO DO WHEN SOMEONE YOU LOVE IS SUFFERING FROM RAPE OR ABUSE
WHAT IS RAPE TRAUMA SYNDROME?
A MAN’S GUIDE TO HELPING A WOMAN WHO HAS BEEN RAPED
Was he up all night reading?
Passages had been highlighted, specifically on the topics of flashbacks, night terrors, panic attacks, and dissociation. My heart flooded with an overwhelming sense of gratitude.
I placed his iPad back on the table, and went to take a shower. The hot water surging over my skin soothed some of the tension I was feeling. Still, I desperately wanted to talk to him about what had transpired last night. Clearing the air was my top priority.
A cool breeze tinged my skin. I felt Ronan behind me even before he spoke.
“Hi, my beauty.”
“Hi,” I said, throwing my arms around his neck, to hug him tight. He drew my mouth to his, kissing me heatedly.
“Where were you?” I asked.
Running his hands through my wet hair and over my shoulders, he stared at me. We stood in silence for so long that the glass shower door fogged over, trapping us together again. I had become familiar being with him in this place, where the whole world was shut out and we were intimately close.
“Ronan,” I mumbled, tracing the curve of his jaw.
“I know,” he whispered, closing the gap between us by pulling me to him. Then he let out a deep sigh, pressing his forehead to mine. Lowering his mouth, his firm lips parted and he swept his tongue against mine. As I moaned into his kisses, a mixture of sweet relief and erotic torture cascaded through me. We finished our shower in silence, but my aching mind was comforted by knowing that Ronan had come back to me.
As I straightened my hair at the vanity, I turned to him. He was seated on the edge, enjoying his morning coffee.
“Do you mind if we talked about last night?”
He nodded, giving me a halfhearted smile.
“First, I’m so incredibly sorry, I feel sick about this whole thing.”
“You don’t need to apologize, Holliday.” He paused for a few beats. “I did some research last night because I wanted to know more about your…condition. You call them triggers. I didn’t know how to process the possibility that our having sex might have caused your nightmare.”
“Yes.” I swallowed hard. “Triggers vary…and…” I couldn’t speak past the ache in my heart at the thought of Ronan facing my nightmare.
A cold knot tightened in my gut. Yes, I had been up front and honest with him when he had asked. I’d given him all the gory details, but now, he’d witnessed firsthand the subconscious battle I fought against the men who’d brutally attacked me.
“Goddammit!” I yelled in frustration, tired of feeling this way.
“Hey. There is no timeline on your healing process.” He stood in front of me, rubbing my shoulders in an effort to soothe me. “I’m here to support you, not push you into anything that causes you to relapse.”
A twinge of pain shot through my stomach. I had to choke back the bile that had come up my throat.
“It’s not you. Please, don’t be afraid to touch me, okay? Promise me, Ronan. Promise me that you won’t treat me like a fragile piece of china because of this one incident. I swear my heart won’t be able to take it if you pulled away. I intend to keep fighting. In no way do I want my issues to hurt you or come between us.”
Ronan searched my face, and his eyes met mine. “I’ll never stop touching you.” He kissed my cheek. “Just try to stop me from keeping my hands off your gorgeous body. I love that you have such a strong fight in you.”
“Also, I want to be clear: Please, don’t feel that you will say or do the wrong thing.” I smiled and stood tall. “What I’m trying to say is: I can handle the desire you have to command things of me sexually. Don’t feel like you can’t be rough with me—because I do like it.”
He squared up to me. “Good, because I plan to help you break down these walls. When I told you I was the last man you’d ever tell your story to, I meant it. I’m not going anywhere.” His arms banded around my waist.
My heart sang with joy. Relief echoed in my brain.
“Thank you,” I said.
He quirked an eyebrow at me. “For what?”
“For giving me your love, and for not running for the hills when things get tough.” I laughed softly.
“Holliday…”
The way he whispered my name felt like he was breathing hope back into
my soul. His eyes glimmered brightly. Pushing my hair back, his lips grazed against mine with a sweet and tender kiss.
“I’ll never run away. I’m here, and you never have to be afraid. Now, finish getting ready, because we have to be at the marina in an hour.” He smiled, smacking my ass with the rolled-up newspaper.
I playfully shoved his arm, giving him a sour face as he exited the bathroom.
With renewed determination, I resolved to keep fighting. For myself. For Ronan. I was done being broken. It ended now.
We had spent the day taking tons of photos, swimming, and lounging in the sun. Ronan tried his hand at fishing while I lounged on the sundeck. We sipped Coronas while giving plenty of PDA for Franklin to capture for the tabloids. I never noticed any cameras while we were out. It was truly the perfect day.
We returned from our boating excursion exhausted, so I decided to take a dip in the plunge pool while Ronan excused himself to take a call from Nina. I tipped my head back and let the warm water wash over me as I sank to the bottom of the pool. When I returned to the surface, Ronan was calling my name.
“Holliday, do you want a beer or some wine?”
“I’ll have another Corona with lime, please.”
He handed me a beer and sat on the side of the pool, his feet dangling in the water.
“What did Nina have to say?”
“The pictures will be online shortly,” he said before tossing back a swig of beer. “She told me that the pictures are very convincing of two people in love and she believes that the public will forget about the Grady James incident in no time.”
“Very convincing, huh?” I smirked. “So glad she thinks we’re both good actors.”
“Nina probably didn’t even realize what she was saying.” His lips curled up into a seductive smile. “For the record, I don’t need to convince anyone how deep my feelings for you are.”
I moved between his legs and placed my elbows on his thighs. He leaned down and the curve of his mouth captured my lips in a sweet kiss.
Perfectly Scripted Page 3
