Meia nodded, anger flashing in her eyes, no longer looking like the timid, frightened little girl I'd seen a moment ago. "Yes, and he did whatever he wanted. He wouldn't leave me alone, even back then. Told me he wanted to own me, that his father would give him anything he wanted."
"So his father gave you to him," I said.
She shook her head. "No," she said. "His father sold me, to a man here in Las Vegas."
"He sold you. Like a piece of property."
"A child bride," she said. "To an old man here. I thought that it couldn't be worse than Aston, that at least I was getting away. But the old man was - not a nice man. He enjoyed...inflicting pain." When she spoke the words, her eyes brimmed with tears and I could tell there was so much more behind the words that she couldn't say.
I took her hand in mine, feeling her tremble as she continued to speak. "When I became pregnant, he left me alone. It was a blessing. At the time, I only cared about the pregnancy because he stopped touching me. The torture finally ceased. But then I started to care about the baby forming in my belly, terrified that he would rip him from me. But Ben was born, and he didn't take him."
"How could this happen?" I asked. "How could someone just buy you, keep you in secret? Keep a baby in secret?" It was unfathomable, that this was something occurring in this city.
"When you have unlimited resources, you can make anything happen," Meia said. "It's easy to pay a doctor to make house calls. Easy to pay for someone to look the other way. I had no paperwork. No identity. Ben and I have no identity. We are ghosts."
"How did you get away?"
"The old man died," Meia said. "And I was finally free. He left us money, Ben and I. I think it was his apology for what he had done. Or some kind of attachment to his child. I'm not sure. He never held Ben, never asked to see him, so I never understood why he would care his son. But I thought I was finally free, that I could leave, take Ben with me somewhere far away from all the reminders of what had happened. I was wrong. Aston had never forgotten about me."
I had not forgotten the day Aston came to take Ben from me. How could I? It was etched in my memory, the last moments I had with my son. I had no idea what would happen when I started looking for a way out, trying to figure out how to escape the country with no passport and no identification. With a baby.
I was a naive child at the time. I should have run immediately, gone into hiding somewhere and used the money to buy Ben and I paperwork. But I didn't understand how anything worked. I didn't understand the urgency of everything. I was wrapped in this little cocoon, inside the walls of the old man's estate, where I thought I was safe from the outside world. The old man was dead, and the threat was gone.
If I would have had any foresight, I would have understood that the real threat was out there, still lurking, just waiting. The man who had been obsessed with me, who had tortured me as a child, who had broken me once before.
It was an idyllic week I spent with Ben, after the old man's death, and before Aston showed up. The truth was, it was an idyllic couple of years before the old man died. It was like all of the pain from before had never happened. He banished us to a guesthouse on the property far from the main house. Out of his sight. The prior torment was over, and Ben had room to run and play, an expanse of manicured lawns and a home that was vastly more than I had when I was a child.
Two years of relief in a series of years full of suffering.
And then Aston arrived. How he found me, I didn't know. I didn't understand the extent of his reach back then.
~ ~ ~
Ben pressed his little body up against my leg, his arms wrapped around my knee. I bent over to scoop him up, kept him against my chest as he whimpered, sensing something was wrong almost immediately.
"Meia," Aston said. "It's been a long time."
"Please." I begged him, trying to be calm, trying to keep myself from falling apart, there with Ben in my arms. I had to be strong. For him. I clutched him tight to me, as if by holding him I could keep him from being taken away. "Whatever you want, I'll do it. Don't hurt Ben."
All I could think about was that Aston would kill Ben, right there in the garden where he'd been happily playing, oblivious to any kind of evil that existed in the world around him. Please don't let Aston kill him, I prayed silently to a God that had never heard me before, pleading for my son's life.
In front of me, Aston smiled, the expression only making him look more sinister and threatening. He gestured to the men who were with him. "Take the boy."
I screamed when they tore Ben from my arms. I screamed as he was taken from me, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks as he wailed, terrified of the men who carried him to the waiting vehicle. "Please, Aston," I pleaded, falling to my knees in the damp grass at Aston's feet, the first of many times I would beg him from this position. "Please don't do this. You can't take my child."
He looked down at me, his eyes cold. "Whether he lives or dies depends entirely on you," he said.
~ ~ ~
When I finished the story, I finally allowed my eyes to meet Hammer's. I felt his hand, still on mine, a comforting gesture. I couldn't imagine what he must think of me, the mother who let her son be taken away from her, who had been unable to figure out how to escape the clutches of the monster who did it for two years. Two years in relative freedom. Not chained. Not kept in a dungeon someplace. I had an apartment, designer clothes, access to a penthouse. Access to money when I needed it.
I was terrified Hammer would look at me and see someone who had not tried hard enough to find her son, who lived in fear instead of bravely trying to rescue him. I was terrified he would see me as irreparably damaged, soiled and broken.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Meia," Hammer said, his voice hoarse. "I can't...there's nothing I can say."
"You must think I'm horrible," I said. My heart raced, and I pulled my hand from his, anticipating his judgment.
A look of confusion flitted over his face. "What? Fuck. No. Are you kidding? What the hell kind of man do you think I am? Why would I think you're horrible?"
"All of the stuff that's happened -"
"Shit, Meia," he said. "I can't fucking imagine. Hell, my kid's not much older than your sister. I can't even..." He shuddered, his face contorted. "What those animals did...what Aston has done to you…”
“What I’ve done, Hammer…” I said. The things I’d done while with Aston were grotesque, made a thousand times more so by the fact that I was doing them in order to keep the bastard from killing my child.
“You survived. You've done what you had to do to survive."
"So much has happened, Hammer. I don't know if I can - I don't know what to do anymore." I didn’t know if I could have sex. Certainly not for pleasure. I didn’t know if I could feel anything for someone else in that way.
"Listen to me,” Hammer said, taking my face in his hands. “I swear to you on my life, I will do everything in my power to get your son back from Aston. You won’t belong to him anymore. I will kill Aston with my bare hands.”
I put my hands on his wrists, took his hands in mine, sliding them away from my face. “No,” I said. “Aston is mine. I’ve thought about how I would kill him since I was thirteen. That’s something you won’t take from me. No one will.”
Hammer’s face was expressionless for a moment, and then he smiled. “Good.”
He sat there, unmoving, holding me for a long time, his arm wrapped around me, my head on his shoulder. I was almost surprised by the gesture, by the fact that he seemed to be content enough to just sit there, holding me. He wasn't like the other men, with their rough demands, their need to constantly debase me.
I could hear his breathing, slow and rhythmic, comforting, and I felt his lips on the top of my head, his hand stroking my hair. It wasn't sexual, yet I felt warmth running through my body in response to his touch.
Without thinking, I pulled away and faced him. I kissed him, hard on the lips. His lips parted, and I heard a rumble in his throat
that sounded more like a growl than anything else as he pressed his lips to mine, so hard that I thought they would bruise. My body was warm, desire radiating from my core to my fingertips. It washed over me like a wave as Hammer pulled at my dress, struggled with it, unable to remove it from his position on the bed, then grunted and stood up, pulling me to the edge of the bed with him. Yanking it over my head, he tossed it on the floor, then stopped and stood there, looking at me. I felt exposed under his stare, but not in the way I’d felt exposed before, under the gaze of the men who took me.
With Hammer looking at me, I was more vulnerable somehow, more naked. My cheeks felt hot as he focused his attention on me.
"Shit," he said. "You are gorgeous."
Hammer kissed me, slowly this time, and I felt my heart race at his touch, dampness growing between my legs. His hand was on the back of my head, fingers laced through my hair, but his touch was gentle as he held me against him. I felt his tongue graze mine, and when he pulled my bottom lip between his teeth, arousal rushed through me like nothing I'd felt before.
"This is a first for me," I whispered. I pulled away so I could look at him, my heart pounding in my chest. It was terrifying, the prospect of having sex with someone just because I wanted to. It was completely unknown territory. I feared I was somehow fucked up, that sex had somehow become all twisted around in my head, muddled up with pain and terror and everything else that came with what I had been through.
Hammer nodded, seeming to understand what I meant. "I'll take it slow," he said.
I wasn't sure whether I wanted him to be gentle, or whether I wanted him to destroy me with his touch. I wasn't sure which I was more afraid of.
I reached up to pull off his shirt, running my hands over his smooth chest, his muscles rippling under my fingertips. He was hard, all muscle, not an ounce of fat on him, a product of hours pumping iron...and fighting, I supposed. I traced the outline of his muscles, wanting to linger, to memorize the way he looked right now in this moment.
"You need to stop doing that, or there's not going to be any taking it easy," Hammer said, his mouth close to my ear. He took the fleshy part of my ear between his teeth, and I heard a moan escape my lips.
When I spoke, my voice was breathy, somehow not like me. "I don't know if I want you to take it easy."
"Shit, I'm going to take it so easy you're going to be aching for me," he said, his voice gruff. The tip of his tongue was on a sensitive place near my earlobe, and I tilted my head to the side, letting his mouth roam down the side of my neck, tracing kisses along the length of my collarbone to the tops of my breasts. My head lolled back and I closed my eyes, reveling in his touch, his hand on my breast, the warmth radiating through the lacy fabric of my bra. My nipples hardened instantly under his palm, and I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling his head closer, wanting his mouth on my breasts, needing his mouth all over me.
I wanted him to envelop me.
I felt heady, drunk with desire and the realization that I craved him. All of him. I had never wanted anyone before. Not ever.
I didn't know why this man was so different from the rest, but he was. And he was making me believe, for the first time, that there could be something more for me.
If I weren’t so consumed with my need for him, that thought would strike fear into my core.
He reached behind my back, slipping off my bra, kissing my shoulder where he slid the strap over my skin. He took my breast in his mouth, circling his tongue around my nipple, his touch exquisite torture, one I only wanted to keep going forever. When he drew his head away from me, I inhaled sharply. “What’s wrong?” I asked.
He smiled. “Nothing at all,” he said. “I just want out of these goddamned clothes so I can feel your skin against mine.”
I shivered as he yanked my panties over my hips so sharply I thought he would tear them from my body. He slid down to his knees between my legs, pulling them to my ankles, and I stepped out of them, gingerly, still on my heels. His hands were on my thighs, and arousal rushed through my body, heat between my legs.
He looked up at me from where he knelt between my legs, his expression one of unbridled lust. "God, you're fucking beautiful," he said. "Fuck my clothes - I need to taste you."
My body responded to him in the most visceral of ways, the throbbing of my pussy impossible to ignore. I shuddered as he touched his lips to my inner thigh, and let out a moan. The anticipation of him was almost too much to bear.
Then he stopped, and I waited, holding my breath, wondering what he was about to do. Hammer inhaled deeply, loudly, and then looked up at me again. "Shit," he said.
A lump formed in my throat. "What? Is something wrong?"
He shook his head. "Fuck, no, there's nothing wrong."
"Then what?" I asked.
"The smell of you," he said. "That shit is going to make my cock explode."
Oh God. The way he talked - dirty and direct - I didn't know what to make of it, what to do with it. But my body did. I wanted him to touch me. I needed him to touch me.
"Spread your legs," he said, not waiting for me to comply before he pushed my thighs apart, forcing my rear against the mattress. "I want you on my mouth."
As he spoke, I could feel his breath, warm between my legs, the air teasing, caressing me, even before his tongue reached me. And when it did, when he finally stopped teasing me and ran his tongue from the bottom of my pussy to my clit, I thought I was going to explode.
"Oh, my God." My words were punctuated with sharp inhalations of breath, gasping as he began to work his tongue over and over my clit, around and around in circles. I'd never felt anything like it before. What he was doing to my body now, the sheer pleasure of it was overwhelming. Any pleasure I'd ever had before was always accompanied by pain. In absence of pain, the intensity was practically blinding.
He covered me in his mouth, his tongue working me over until I was nearly breathless. Then, hands on my ass, pulling me against his mouth, he fucked me with his tongue. I lost myself with him, for the first time in my life not able to think about anything else that was happening, about all worries that normally ate up my thoughts. Instead, I was completely and entirely swept up in how it felt to have someone concerned only about my pleasure. Waves of arousal washed over me, bigger and bigger, until I was on the brink.
I felt his fingers at my entrance, probing, gently opening me until he slipped them easily inside, my pussy slick with my wetness.
"Shit, you're so wet," he said softly, his voice a growl. I could barely answer. All I could think about was how it felt to have his fingers inside me, stroking me, his movements rhythmic.
"Oh my God, Hammer." I nearly panted the words, as he returned his mouth to my clit, his tongue swirling in circles like he had before. "I'm - I think I'm close."
"Does this feel good?" he asked, between mouthfuls of my clit.
Good? It felt amazing. There was no comparing what he was doing to anything else I'd ever felt in my life. "Oh God, yes," I said, less and less able to control the moans that escaped my lips.
"Do you want me to keep doing it?" he asked.
"Yes, please," I begged. "Don't stop. Don't ever stop." I was so close to the edge. I wanted to let go. There was just a small part of me, holding back. I'd never come for a partner before, not once.
But Hammer had me on the brink.
He must have sensed something shift in me. He looked up at me, his fingers still doing that rhythmic thing inside me, his voice dominant and commanding. "Listen to me," he said. "I want you to come on my fingers, do you understand?"
I bit my lip, nodding, even though I didn't know if I could let go.
Then he put his mouth to me again, sucking my clit so hard it was nearly painful, and lost myself in his mouth and his fingers until I was so close to the edge. I felt him pull his mouth back from me, just for a moment, to speak. "Come on me. Now."
Something about the way he ordered me to come pushed me over the edge and it felt like an explosio
n as I came on him, my muscles pulsing around his fingers inside me. It was an eternity before I could open my eyes and look at him.
When I did, he slid his fingers from me and touched them to his mouth, his tongue pressed up against his fingertips. "You taste amazing," he said.
I couldn't speak, I was so unraveled by him. I felt undone, completely, standing there naked while this man - this tattooed, fighter, biker, computer nerd - looked at me with hunger in his eyes. "Hammer," I said. "That's - oh my God, that's never happened to me before."
He stood up, a cocky grin on his face, and began to unbuckle his pants. "Well, get ready. Because that's sure as hell not going to be the last time you feel my mouth on you."
I doubt she had a clue how sexy she looked, standing there in those black heels, buck naked, leaning against the bed. Her hair was mussed, a tangle of strands, pieces sticking up at all angles where she'd run her hands through her mane while I was between her legs. Her lipstick was smudged where I'd kissed it the hell off her.
This girl had roused every bit of protective instinct there was in me, had my blood pumping through my veins ready to take out the asshole who had beat her. And now, Christ, I just wanted to be inside her, more than anything. My cock throbbed to the point that I thought it was going to fucking explode.
At the same time, I didn't want to hurt her, this girl who had already been broken beyond belief but was still so strong. I felt like a schmuck, talking about all my shit when hers was horrific. And now, all I could think about was myself and how much I wanted to be inside her, when what I needed to do was to go slow, calm my shit down.
The problem was, I’d just had a taste of her, and I wanted more. That was the least of my problems. A bigger problem was that I knew myself, and I knew I wasn't about to casually fuck this girl. She was already under my skin, and I knew myself well enough to know that she was going to stick there.
Breaking Hammer (Motorcycle Club Romance) (Inferno Motorcycle Club Book 3) Page 13
