Raw- Rebirth

by Belle Aurora

  It felt so wrong, so unnatural to want this.

  He was too coarse. Too brutal.

  It made no sense for my pussy to be weeping the way it was.

  Yet, here we were.

  With one hand at my throat, he snaked his free arm around my waist and held me in place as he shuffled forward, trapping me between his body and the wall. Draping my legs over his knees, he put his forehead to mine, unforgivingly close, and rubbed my pussy firmly. “This what you want, baby?”

  He was out of character.

  “Yes,” I breathed out shakily.

  Twitch’s face softened a moment. “You sure?”

  He was giving me an out before this turned violent. But I wanted to give him this gift, because I loved him and... “I trust you.”

  Looking pained, his eyes closed and he held them shut tightly, knowing this was costing me my comfort, but being consciously unable to let me go.

  Would he test my limits?

  Yes. He always did.

  Did I trust him to stop if need be?

  No, he wouldn’t stop. But he would slow it down for me if I failed to keep up. And that’s all I needed.

  Small reassurances. Not grand gestures.

  I watched in fascination as he took in a deep breath, stretched his neck out, and then opened his eyes to lay his dark glare on me. He leaned in and put his lips to the shell of my ear, and when he rumbled out what he did, I knew it was on. “Daddy’s gonna fuck you now, baby.”

  My core squeezed, and when he tightened his grasp on me, I felt my heart beat steadily against his palm, and my body was his to do with what he pleased.

  Today, I was his toy. His plaything. A tight hole and nothing more. And he would use me because he wanted to, not because I had given my permission. Because he was hurting and needed an outlet.

  I gave myself up as tribute to his pain.

  My mouth opened in a silent moan as he placed the tip of him at my needy slit.

  “Shut your mouth,” he growled, and I did, my eyes on him, breathing heavily through my nose.

  As the tip of him kissed me softly, he held my neck callously in one hand while the other came down to haul up my tank top. He peered down at my black, strappy harness bra, looking at me attentively, before running rough fingers over the swell of my breasts. “Don’t be shy, angel.” His brows furrowed at the softness of my skin then he licked his lips. “If I bite... yeah, it’ll hurt.” He yanked down my bra harshly then smirked unkindly at the way my breath hitched. “But I promise you’ll like it.”

  He applied the smallest amount of pressure, and as the head of him slipped into me, my eyes fluttered closed, a soft breath leaving me lightly. Little by little, he slid deeper and deeper, dangerously slow. And when I was halfway impaled, his brow knitted, he gritted his teeth, and with a solid thrust, a loud gasp was pulled from me as he drove into my pussy, balls deep.

  Feeling full and desperate, my lips started to move, and then I was begging on a rushed whisper, “Oh, please. I want it so bad. Please, baby. Give it to me.”

  The way his eyes hooded... oh, fuck. He was a vision, my dark seraph.

  He brought his face to mine, nose-to-nose, as he kept his eyes on me. His responding whisper was so hot it should have been illegal. “This pussy is a part of you, angel, but you and I, we both know the truth.” His minty breath warmed as he bit my bottom lip hard enough to pulse. A keening moan was forced from me as he laved the sting with his tongue. “It’s between your legs—” He nipped me again, softer this time. “—but it belongs to me.”

  This was what I affectionately called beast mode.

  His words had me reeling.

  I guess we all loved a gentleman but secretly craved a savage.

  When he tilted his hips back and thrust upward, my entire body shook. He did this steadily, over and over, his tight grip on my neck, my pussy dripping. My bare back against the wall, my nipples peaked at the combination of hot at my front, cold at my back, and when my sex clenched around him, I felt his cock jerk in response.

  A sudden urgency ran through the both of us.

  Twitch’s face screwed up heatedly, and when his free hand came up to join the other at my neck, I could feel he was close. Clutching both of his hands tightly, I felt my air supply being cut off, and when my eyes widened on him, his expression remained unchanging as he pumped into me.

  My arms felt heavy as I failed to take in a full breath, and when I was too weak to hold on any longer, they fell to my sides as he fucked me senseless. As he fucked the very life out of me.

  Existence was strange that way, and I felt it was poetic justice to be killed by a man I’d only moments ago told I trusted with my life.

  ***

  Twitch

  I was surrounded by things I loved.

  Her body, my favorite art piece.

  Her moan, my favorite song.

  Her breath stolen, she continued to put her trust in me.

  I wore her love like a tattoo.

  She revived my scorched soul with a single kiss.

  I loved this woman.

  I loved her to death.

  ***

  Lexi

  Eyes open but bleak, I lost consciousness.

  Moments later, I was revived with a sharp gasp as he released me.

  And the orgasm that hit me came out of nowhere.

  His arms came around me, holding me up as I took in the air I so desperately needed. My heart raced erratically, and complete and utter bliss filled me, flowing through my body in waves. Tipping my head back, I opened my mouth and screamed as I clenched fitfully around his cock. Not a second after, he pushed as deeply inside me as he could, and I heard his rough grunt around my harsh wheezes.

  Twitch held me close, my head falling to his shoulder, and I continued to gasp, taking in as much air as I possibly could. My forehead had misted with perspiration—from exertion or fear, I didn’t know.

  His softening cock slipped out of me as my legs continued to shake, and when he placed his face into the crook of my neck, breathing me in, I came to realize that I would give anything to keep him sane.

  Even my own life.

  “Angel,” was what he panted into my neck, kissing the hot but soft skin there. The skin he’d held too tightly for entirely too long.

  What he meant was, “I’m sorry.” But there was no need for apology. I thought it cruel to have someone apologize for being nothing more than he was.

  A natural born hunter. A conditioned killer.

  That was like asking a lion to apologize for being a predator and trying to convert it to veganism.

  Unfounded.

  Feeling his release dripping out of my still clenching core and onto the hallway floor, I gripped the back of his head with both hands, holding him close. Breathing heavily, my voice croaked, “I wanted it. Besides...” I moved my lips to his damp hair, and whispered, “You needed it.”

  The way his hold tightened on me, leaving me breathless, told me I’d been right.

  And for as long as I lived, I would give everything in my power to make this complex man’s life a little less complicated.

  Chapter

  Thirty-Five

  Lexi

  It was after midnight when I heard the car start. My eyes shot open with a start and I listened fixedly. The front door closed behind him and I shot up out of bed, running to the window, watching in complete disbelief as he made to leave.

  My heart squeezed so hard my breath left me with a whoosh.

  As he loaded a duffle into the passenger seat, my eyes widened and I took in a shaky breath before whispering on an exhale, “Oh my God, you asshole.”

  He was leaving. Running in the night like a goddamn coward.

  My chest began to ache painfully.

  Motherfucker!

  In that single moment, anger like I had never felt before settled over me. In that moment, I was a child born of rage and bedlam. Fury be thy name, and as I rushed out the door, my ferocity ignited from a s
ingular spark to a raging inferno and it burned so hard it scorched my veins.

  If he thought he was leaving me, leaving us a second time, he had another think coming.

  “No,” I called the second I crossed the threshold. That call was upgraded to a shout when he turned and stilled, an expression of impatience crossing his features. “No!” And once I passed the front porch, I didn’t stop, charging him in nothing but my slinky, cream-colored nightie. My heart began to race as I lifted my hands, put them to his shoulders, and pushed as hard as I could. “No!”

  My shove barely moved him.

  How infuriating.

  “Go back inside,” he uttered passively, and my anger went supernova.

  I spoke. I spoke even though my voice shook. “You don’t get to do this.” When he turned his face away, I lifted my trembling hand and brought it to his cheek, forcing him to look at me. “You don’t get to do this to us again.”

  He licked his lips, blinking down at me unemotionally. “Go back inside, Lexi.”

  “No.” I stood my ground, but my bravado slipped. “Not without you.”

  Twitch took in a deep breath. “I gotta get outta here a while, okay?”

  “No.” My veins lit with pure scorching lava. I shook my head and ground out excruciatingly, “Not okay.”

  I hated that I cried when I got angry because he thought I was genuinely sad, when in reality I was trying my hardest not to fucking kill him myself.

  My eyes blurred with unshed tears. “Is this what you do now? You just pack up and leave when shit gets hard?” My breathing turned heavy as I let my anger be known. “I’m so glad you feel you have the choice, you fuckhead,” I panted then wept. “I don’t have that luxury, to escape when I feel like I’m fucking sinking inside, which is a lot, by the way. Because I’m a mother.” I pointed toward the house as my tears left a burning trail on my cheeks. “And there’s a little boy in that house who depends on me.”

  When he lowered his face, the sadness crept in, outweighing the anger. My grief was real, and while I had already gone and experienced the first three stages, the forth step came hard and fast. And then I was bargaining.

  “Please don’t do this.” My shoulders shook as I cried openly. He opened his mouth to speak, but I lifted a hand, cutting him off. “I don’t care what you do to me, but don’t do this to him.” It was hard to breathe and my voice turned weak. “I barely survived it, Tony.” My lips quavered, as I whispered agonizingly, “This will kill him.”

  As we stared at each other a long while, Twitch unzipped his hoodie and stepped forward, cloaking me in his warmth and his smell, pulling the hood up over my head while looking completely calm, and I hated him then.

  How could he appear so tranquil as I felt my world was falling apart?

  So when he stepped forward and cupped my cheeks, I fought him. “No.” I lifted my hands and slapped at his chest. He leaned in again, and a pained grunt escaped me as my hand connected with his chin. “Don’t touch me!” A strong arm circled my waist and held me fast, and I lifted my arms, hitting him again and again as I wept openly. “Don’t touch me, you piece of shit!”

  “Baby, stop,” he cooed, avoiding as much of my assault as he could.

  Balling my hands into fists, I punched his shoulders, but my blows were abating as my heart weakened, as my soul desperately tried to understand why this was happening all over again.

  The answer was a hard pill to swallow.

  It was happening, because I let it.

  “Let go of me.” I struggled in his hold, and when he didn’t release me, I screamed, “Let go of me!”

  And just like that, Twitch had turned me into another angry housewife yelling in the street.

  He let go then, and as much as I begged for it, I wanted to rush back into his arms if it meant keeping him with me a while longer.

  Yes. I was truly pathetic.

  And when I shook my head and turned my back on him, heading back toward the house, wondering how in the hell I would explain this to my son, he caught my wrist. I yanked it free with little to no effort and turned my deathly glare on him. “You want to go?” I swept my arm out. “Go.” My expression severe, I warned, “But I swear to you, Antonio Falco, if you leave today, you leave for good. Do you hear me?”

  Yeah, I said it. But I didn’t mean it.

  I spun on my heel because I didn’t want him to see me cry again. He stopped me with, “I left a note.” My feet failed me and I stalled. “It’s just a couple days.” My throat constricted painfully. With my back to him and my feet chilled, he spoke quietly. “I’m coming back.”

  My breath left me with a whoosh and my shoulders slumped. I didn’t dare face him.

  He went on, “Just a few days. That’s all.” And when I heard him approach, my entire body turned rigid. “I’m coming back, angel.”

  Why should I believe him?

  Last time I believed him, I ended up burying him.

  “I’m not leavin’ you. Not the way you think.” I loathed that I heard sincerity in his voice. “I told you, baby.” What he said next had a fresh stream of tears falling. “Always find my way back to you.”

  I hugged myself then, trying in vain to talk through my tears. “Where are you going?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Spent six years without you, angel. Spent those years alone and miserable. Now I got you, got my boy, and I’m fuckin’ happy. I’m not takin’ any risks.” My back warmed as I felt him stand right behind me. “Gonna find someone who makes sure we get at least six more together.” When his hands came down on my shoulders, he uttered, “I’m tired of waiting. I can’t live like this, knowing she’s out there planning whatever the fuck she’s planning. Livin’ with this dread in the pit of my stomach.” He inhaled deeply, followed by an exhale. “It’s messin’ with me, baby.”

  Ling.

  This was about Ling.

  At my silence, he went on, “You know me, Lex. You think I’mma wait for the bitch to attack first? Fuck that shit.” The hands at my shoulders squeezed as he made a negative sound in his throat. “It ain’t my style.”

  My feet were freezing, and when I turned, I did it slowly. My damp eyes met his, and I asked quietly, “Why do you think she’s planning something?”

  Brutal honesty. “Because I would be.” And the certainty in his voice made my heart stutter.

  My eyes turned as desolate as my tone. “You’re not leaving?”

  He shook his head slowly and his eyes spoke to mine, holding a certainty in them. And at that moment, confidence surged through me. One I had no right to feel, not with our history. It filled me with hope.

  I held my breath.

  Past experience told me to fear this man and what he could do to me, but my heart objected so profoundly that it wouldn’t be silenced. I took the objection and kissed it soundly, holding it close, nurturing it to grow.

  When he glanced down at his watch, he uttered the words I feared hearing. “I gotta go.” At my unsure expression, he stepped closer, taking his hands and placing them gently on my waist. “I’m coming back,” he uttered earnestly. The hands at my waist squeezed. “And when I do, we’re getting married.” His soft brown eyes searched my strained face, before he ordered gently, “Kiss me before I go.”

  Soft promises made with a forked tongue.

  No. I shouldn’t have believed him.

  Then why did I?

  Because it was better than the alternative.

  My heart cracked, fissures appearing all over the fragile glass it was made of, and when he looked me deep in the eye and commanded, “Kiss me,” my feet moved without permission.

  He lowered his face at the very same moment I stood on my tiptoes, and when our lips touched, so much was said without ever being spoken. My arms wrapped around his neck and I was not letting go. Not yet.

  His tender kiss said, “I won’t let you down,” while my desperate lips begged, “Come back to me.”

  And when he backed away, carefully pulling m
y arms off of him, I watched him approach the car and I panicked. “Don’t get lost, okay?”

  He snuffled out a soft laugh before looking at me. Really looking at me. “Don’t you know, angel?” The intensity of that look gave me chills. “No matter which map I take, they all lead back to you.”

  Jesus Christ.

  I was in love with a silver-tongued snake.

  My breath hitched as I delayed his departure. “Love me forever?”

  He opened the car door and paused. And then he smiled, the beautifully crooked smile that haunted my dreams to this very day. “Till the end of time.” Before he slid into the drivers seat, he muttered, “Wait for me, baby.”

  But I didn’t respond because it didn’t need to be said.

  And as I watched the car reverse out of my driveway, I came to the sickening realization that I would wait.

  I would wait a million years.

  My eyes fluttered open sometime before dawn. I reached out, knowing he wouldn’t be there.

  Fingers blindly searching the empty side of the bed, I closed my eyes and curled in on myself as my heart ached tenderly, hugging his hoodie to me in the early hours of a lonely morning. I breathed in his heady scent and, eventually, slow as the sun rose, I fell back asleep.

  “Where’s Daddy?”

  I don’t know and it’s killing me.

  Smiling down at the little monster with a light that didn’t reach my eyes, I uttered, “He had to go away for work.”

  Molly glanced at me from the table, frowning, and we exchanged a solemn look.

  My son peered between us, before asking carefully, “When is he coming back?”

  His hesitance slayed me.

  I sat beside him and ran a gentle hand through his hair. “I’m not sure, baby.”

  A couple days, he said. The note he left said a week. For all I knew, it would be months. Years, even.

  Who knew?

  My attitude grew more pessimistic by the second, and before I did something really dumb, like burst into tears for the fourth time this morning, I peered down at my little man, and said, “How about we put on a nice dinner tonight? I can call Ana and Julius.”