by Winters, W.
“Did you think it would be this way from the beginning?” I ask him. Truly wanting to know what he thought back then, only weeks ago. The reminder of the cell, of me starving and dying of both boredom and fear should make me angry, but all it does is make me pity Carter.
“I didn’t know what to expect from you. I only knew I wanted to have you.”
“To have me,” I echo and settle my head in the crook of his neck. The movement makes my breasts rise above the surface of the water for a moment and the chill is unwelcome until I settle back into the water.
“Your choice of words always seems to amaze me.” My voice is flat, and I wish I could take it back. Silence stretches, and I wonder how long I’ve been in the water.
You can’t wash everything away, but I wish I could.
“How did you think this would end?”
“You’re asking a lot of questions tonight,” he says instead of giving me an answer and places the sponge back on its shelf rather than answering me.
“Oh, and I see I’ve found the question that crosses the line,” I tell him with a smile although a deep pain courses through my heart as I shut my eyes. Each beat feeling harder and taking more of me just to keep going. I can only imagine what Carter wanted to do with me.
“It all changed when I saw how much you wanted me. When I saw how much you craved my touch… how much you needed me.” I open my eyes as Carter’s fingers reach for my chin, the water dripping into the tub as he forces me to look into his eyes.
“I need you to want me still when this is over.” Carter’s words hold an edge of sincerity that’s too much to handle.
I almost ask why, but I’m afraid of the answer I’ll get. I’m afraid what I feel for him isn’t reciprocated. I’ve been foolish before, and I’m almost certain I am now.
“I’m not afraid of you,” I confess to him, wanting to at least hint at the depths of what I feel for him.
“You should be.” He doesn’t try to make his words gentle in the least. “You need to be.”
In his presence, my body turns to fire. He ignites something inside of me like no one else ever has. I doubt anyone else could ever affect me the way he does. Some moments, I hate him and who he is, and what he’s done and will do. But unless those thoughts are on the forefront of my mind, the hate fades and it’s replaced with a lust that clouds my judgment and demands my body bow to his. To show him love like he’s never seen and the power of what it can do to heal him.
What’s more? I crave it more every day. I’m addicted to Carter Cross. And the shame of that fact, although present, has quieted.
But the voice is still there and picks away at me. It’s relentless, but so is Carter.
Chapter 12
Carter
Some moments, I feel closer to her.
Others, more distant.
I wish I knew what to make of her tonight. Nothing went as I thought it would and that puts me on edge.
She fell asleep in the tub, and as I carry her small form wrapped in a towel to bed, I can’t help but notice how peaceful she looks.
Tonight, was like knowing you’re in the eye of a storm. She’s calm and placated but beneath the surface, everything she’s truly feeling rage inside of her. She needs to let it go.
I have to set her down and pull the comforter from underneath her before she can bury herself into the mattress.
As she nestles into the sheets, she wakes calmly.
Rubbing her eyes, she comes to and asks, “Is it morning?” She practically hums the words.
With her damp hair a mess and sleep lingering in her expression, she’s fucking gorgeous.
I cup her cheek and plant a soft kiss on her lips, to which she lifts hers up and deepens it. I’m growing addicted to the way she kisses me. How she doesn’t hide her passion in her touch.
Unlike in her gifted room today. I want them all to be like this one.
I’ve never kissed a woman before her. Never let myself fall for anyone or given them that part of me. So, every peck, every time she deepens it, it means so much more than I thought it would. I need more of this from her.
“Not yet, songbird.” Whispering against her lips I tell her, “You fell asleep in the bath.”
She slowly sits up as I climb into bed next to her.
“Well, I don’t feel tired now,” she tells me and sits cross-legged.
Exhaustion sweeps over me as I lie down and pull her close to me. “Good, I can have you then,” I tell her, letting my lips drag against her neck to leave a trail of open-mouth kisses. I rock my erection into her hip and then pin her under me. “I wanted you in the bath.”
I’d planned on putting one heel on each side of the tub, just as I’d told her to do in the office, but her questions were more important. More insightful, even though I didn’t like where they were going.
It feels like she’s slipping from me, slowly. I’m losing her, and I don’t know how or why.
But I’ll get her back. She has nowhere else to run and no one else.
She only needs to accept that.
Her hand sweeps behind my neck and she pulls my lips to hers, taking and demanding. “Make me forget,” she whispers against my lips and my chest aches at her words.
I need to forget, just as she does. It’s so easy to get lost in her.
My fingers trail down the dip in her waist slowly until I find her cunt. Already hot and wet and needy, she rocks herself into my palm and I smile against her lips.
Nipping her lower lip and guiding my cock to her entrance, I tease her, “You’re always ready for me.”
“Always,” she mewls just before I slam into her to the hilt.
“Fuck!” she yells out as I pull out and then thrust into her slowly, taken aback at the tone of her strangled cry.
Her palms press against my chest, pushing me away as I kiss the crook of her neck and she moans a painful sound. “Carter,” she whispers my name with agony. Her brow is etched with a look of pain.
“It hurts,” she gasps, arching her neck as I pull out of her completely. “It hurts,” she repeats, trying to close her legs. Shit. My body tenses concerned that I hurt her. Fuck. Not like this.
“Shh,” I whisper against her neck and kiss her lightly as my fingers find her clit. She needs to feel good under me. I can’t have her any other way.
Instantly, she moans that sweet sound of pleasure I love hearing. “I was wondering how much I could fuck you before you’d be too sore.” She only replies with a quick inhale and the buck of her hips which does nothing but give me slight relief.
“Look at me,” I command her, and her head turns instantly to face me. Her gorgeous hazel-green eyes burn into mine. My thumb rubs ruthless circles around her clit and Aria bites into her lower lip, desperate to keep her eyes on me but knowing the pleasure will rock through her soon.
Her back bows slightly and her breaths turns to pants, but instead of letting her get off, I lower my fingers, trailing them through her lips and gathering the wetness to bring it lower.
“I could always take you here,” I say lowly, pressing my fingers against her forbidden entrance.
Aria’s answer is to open her mouth wider with a look of shock, but more than that, sinful curiosity.
A smile stretches across my lips as I say, “Not tonight though. I have to play with you first.” Her eyes light again with curiosity and the guilt I felt a moment ago diminishes. I bring my fingers back to her clit then down to her entrance, pressing them inside her gently, but even that makes her wince.
I have to pull the covers back to look at her slick folds; she’s red and swollen, well used.
That doesn’t mean I can’t give her pleasure and that I can’t have mine in return. If I’ve learned anything about Aria, it’s that the more I give her pleasure, the more compliant she is.
Her eyes stay pinned on me as she looks down her body and waits for what I’ll do to her.
I run my tongue up and down her pussy and then suck on her clit.
She’s so fucking sweet. The taste of her on my lips makes my cock twitch with need. With her hands in my hair and her heels digging into the bed she finds her release, screaming out my name.
She curls on her side as I move back up the bed and lie next to her, not waiting to position her just as I want her. With one hand on her breast and the other pushing the hair away from her flushed face, she’s still reeling from her orgasm when I move my cock between her thighs.
“Arch your back,” I tell her, and she obeys instantly, jutting her ass out. And it tempts me. The curve of her waist and the round flesh of her ass are so seductive. I can just imagine gripping on to her and rocking into her as she screams in ecstasy.
She’s not ready for my dick to take her ass though… not yet.
I settle on pushing the head of my cock inside her, only the head and wait for her reaction. A small moan escapes her lips as she rocks gently, finding the aftershocks pleasurable. I know there will be a bite of pain, but there’s nothing better than when pain and pleasure mix.
“Grab my cock,” I give her the command, and she reaches around to take my cock and stroke it. “Harder,” I say then put my hand over hers and show her how to jerk me off. She only has a grip on the base of my dick, but her unsure hold and the lust in her eyes are enough to get me off. Even without her pussy clenching around the head of my cock.
“Fuck,” I groan as she rubs me and slowly pushes more of me inside of her. With my hand on her hip, I stop her from pushing more of me inside of her. Even with her getting off, it’ll only make her worse off and all I need is this.
“I want you every night, however I can have you.” My words are tense as I sit on the edge of my release.
The air between us is different now. There’s a raw quality neither of us can hide, although I’ll never admit it.
Her pressure is firm, her strokes even and deliberate, and then her pussy spasms around the tip of my dick as she cums again from me rubbing her clit.
But it’s the way she’s looking at me that gets me off. Like I’m hers to play with. I’m hers to fuck, to use.
Like she owns me, as she strokes my dick and I cum inside her.
My eyes beg me to close them as I revel in the sweet burst of satisfaction and I mark her again. But her gaze stays on mine, our breath mingling, and I’m forced to get lost in her hazel eyes. I’m still cumming when she releases me, turning and kissing me hard, crashing her lips to mine and devouring me.
My cum leaks from her and onto the sheets, but she doesn’t care and neither do I.
Her heart races as she presses her breasts to my chest and belly to mine. Once again wanting to get closer to me, and I feel for the first time today I have her back. She’s mine again.
The day I stop fucking her will be the day I lose her. She needs my touch like I need the air she breathes.
“I think I might be able to sleep now,” she whispers and then smiles against my lips.
“Sleep well.” I keep my voice calm and soothing, rubbing my arm up and down her bare back as she settles her head on my chest, a new habit of hers. One I approve of.
Looking up at me with her head resting on my arm she tells me, “Sweet dreams.”
I kiss her gently as she drifts off to sleep in my arms with the faint taste of lust still on her lips.
* * *
Addicts will get high on anything. My father’s words ring in my ears. The white lights are too bright. I wince.
Where am I? My head lolls to the side; it’s so heavy I can’t lift it. Everything hurts.
Slowly, I feel each of my limbs. My wrists won’t move, pinned against a metal chair. The same with my ankles and every inch of me is in pain, but the worst is radiating from my stomach.
I heave up a breath that squeezes my chest, coughing up blood.
Fuck.
My right eye is swollen, and I try to open it, remembering how my mother’s pills fell into the gutter. No, we needed that money.
My father said the addicts would buy them, but hardly any of them did. I stayed out all day, and only two buyers paid me anything. And then the men showed up. Talvery’s men.
“How long was he there?”
I hear someone from across the room ask the question and open my eyes to see a swinging light and a man in a crisp suit with long black hair slicked back tossing my wallet across a metal table littered with tools.
A groan tears from me as I try to move. Try to get away. I know he’s going to kill me. I know it.
But it’s hopeless.
“I’m sorry,” I spew and more blood spits up. “I didn’t know,” I try to say but my throat is so dry and feels bruised. I don’t think they heard me, so I repeat myself, pleading for mercy. “I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t know what, kid?” a man hisses in front of me. Pain spikes at the back of my scalp as he grips my hair and shakes my head to look at him. “You didn’t know you were dealing on my turf?” His eyes are a pale blue and ice cold. “The whole east side knows it now. So, you’re fucked.” He spits out the words then leaves me, picking up something from the metal table.
Every crunch of bone, every rip of my skin, every deep gouge pushes me closer and closer until I’m holding on to life by a thread.
I even cry out for my mother.
They all laugh in the room. But still, I cry out for her. Praying she can’t see this and what’s happened only weeks after her death. Shame and regret and pain make my head feel light and slowly I feel weightless. So close to death.
Please, just end it. I don’t want to live anymore. I can’t.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
At first, I think they’re guns that wake me, stopping me from drifting to lifelessness.
Bang. Another bang at the door so close to me, yet impossible to reach.
“Please, I need you,” someone says, and her voice sends a chill through my body, but at the same time, warmth. “I need you.” The words are feminine and soft, but with a plea that begs me to listen.
She needs me.
The pain is still vivid with every move of my limbs, but I can hear her if I listen.
The voice turns harder, colder and the air goes frigid.
“I need you, Carter,” she says again but this time there’s no negotiation in her tone. “I need you!” she yells at me.
The anger rising and a storm brewing around me, she screams at me, her voice reverberating in the room, “I still need you!”
Chapter 13
Aria
His arm feels so heavy. I can barely hear my groan as I wake up and try to push away Carter’s arm.
I struggle, but he only squeezes tighter.
My shoulders twist and I push against his arm, but the muscles are coiled, and his grip is too much. I can’t breathe.
My eyes shoot open, realizing this isn’t a dream.
“Carter!” I cry out in a strangled breath, fighting his hold and letting the anxiety rush through my blood to make me kick backward, shoving and heaving to get him off of me. “Wake up!” My heart pounds harder.
I struggle to breathe. My voice croaks and my lungs burn as I yell, “Carter!”
My chest flies forward as he jolts awake, instantly releasing me and leaving me breathless and crumpled on the bed. The mattress dips and groans as Carter gets up. I push the hair from my face and then try to steady my ragged breathing.
It was only a moment – a small moment – maybe a minute in time, but I thought he was going to kill me, he held me so tight.
“You scared the shit out of me.” I barely get the words out, my eyes still burning.
Without an answer, I turn to him and it’s then I see he’s breathing just as heavily as I am. With both palms against the wall, he leans over and tries to calm himself down.
My blood runs cold at the sight of him. “Carter?” My voice carries across the room to him, ignoring how my muscles are screaming still from fighting against his grip.
Getting onto my knees, I crawl to the edge of the matt
ress. His shoulders are tense, and he won’t look at me.
Cautiously, I climb off the bed and go to him. “It’s okay.” I try to keep my voice soothing, but my body hasn’t caught up to the fact that he needs me. “I’m okay,” I say, trying to reassure him.
With my heart hammering, I gently place a hand on his arm but he’s quick to rip it away and stalk to the bathroom, leaving me with a pounding fear racing through my blood.
“Carter,” I say hesitantly, but he doesn’t respond to me at all.
The question is clear in my mind, go to him or let him be? I’m still catching my breath and waking up as I push my hair from my hot face, registering what just happened.
If I’ve ever seen a man who shouldn’t be left alone, it’s Carter. He’s too broken, and there’s no telling what he’ll do.
“Was it just a nightmare?” I ask him innocently, wanting him to give me anything. I can feel the rug end and the wood begin as I walk toward him in the dark.
He flicks on the light in the bathroom and runs the water. And I walk toward the sound and strip of light from the bathroom that guides me.
“Carter?” I ask him softly as I push the bathroom door open and see his back to me again. His muscles ripple as he washes his face.
“Please, talk to me,” I whisper weakly when he still doesn’t answer me. Even after he’s dried off his face. “Are you okay?”
I can see him swallow in the mirror. I can see the weary expression of a man who’s led a horrible life. The fatigue in his eyes. The pain etched in the faint scars on his back.
He presses his palms to his eyes and breathes in and out. “Go to bed,” he commands in a harsh tone I don’t expect, although, I don’t leave as asked.
My heart squeezes with pain. I won’t leave him like this. “I don’t want to,” I tell him with barely any courage, the words coming out shaky.
“What happened?” I ask him in a comforting whisper. “It was just a dream,” I tell him, hoping they’ll have more comfort for him than those words do for me.
