by Hera August
For one brief moment, his lips brush over hers, gently imploring her to accept what will come next. "Belle.. I can't bear anymore,” he groans against her parted lips, in a voice laced with strain and urgency. “I've wanted you... wanted this for so long..."
To be quite honest, it doesn’t make one bit of difference to Belle what he’s saying, because she’s already so moved by the way he said it. He’s already captured her heart, and now she is dying for him to show her what it means to have his body take possession of hers.
She is increasingly aware of the teasing and insistent pressure of his hard sex against her. That overwhelming sweet ache overtakes her again, and she breathes thickly against his parted lips, "I can't wait anymore either. I want you."
His eyes shut as he pushes forward. He enters her, slowly. Her body mercifully accommodates him. And the sensation of him being sheathed within her is so maddening, that it forces all other thoughts from her mind.
As he finally thrusts himself in to the hilt, she is overcome by the exquisite agony. Belle's cry rings out just as a tortured moan slips past his lips.
Now fully sheathed inside her tight warmth, Belle is assaulted by overwhelming sensations. The power of the sweet ache is astonishing. Blinding ferocious lust seems to surge through him. Belle watches Judas' every movement, captivated by the rapt expression that washes over his face just before his body tenses and his eyes close. To see him be so moved by the feel of her, heightens her own need.
Out of her mind with wanting, she raises her hips against his, and breathes in a whisper far too husky to be recognizable as her own, "You don't have to stop."
"Am I hurting you?" he asks in a strained voice.
She presses her lips to his, her hips squirming in the most maddening manner, as she murmurs, "No. You don't have to hold back. I don't want you to hold back anything. Never with me."
She gasps as he withdraws himself almost all the way out and thrusts into her again. The feeling takes her very breath away. Judas' eyes fix on hers as he begins to move in and out of her. The incredible sensation is overwhelming. Belle begins to meet his thrusts, reciprocating in perfect unison. Their rhythm is unhurried at first, as they savor the feel of each other. Belle is astonished by Judas’ maintained discipline and prowess. Each movement he makes is artful and deliberate, and she can tell by the tension in his body, and his intense expression, that his control is not coming easily. It seems he’s fighting to delay his own release until she’s been thoroughly satisfied.
There’s still so much pent-up passion lurking just behind his eyes. She wonders how long he'll be able to contain it. She hopes it won’t be long. She pines for him to share it with her, for anything that will bring her closer to understanding him, and prove that this is real.
Her hands smooth lovingly over his lower back as her movements grow bolder. Belle feels empowered by her seeming effect on him, and she is overcome with the desire to bring him the same intensity of pleasure he seems so determined to bring her. As her hips rise to meet his, they writhe in a circular fashion, increasing the stimulation for both of them.
Tilting back his head, Judas groans. His eyes close again as she kisses his neck. Her hands roam impatiently over his back as she runs her tongue over the sensitive skin of his throat. She can feel his hard cock pulsate and tighten, and as though helpless against the feelings she is awakening in him, Judas moans, "Jesus Christ, Belle..."
Their rhythm increases; their movements becoming more frenzied. “I need you, Judas. I need you so much.”
His hands find her face, cradling it as he kisses her roughly, his thrusts becoming more forceful. Belle marvels as his hands suddenly seem to be everywhere at once, fondling her breasts, smoothing over her thighs, and grasping at her hips. The mind-blowing pleasure starts to grip her and she raises her knees higher.
Judas' hunger for her is insatiable. Her delicious moans and cries are becoming more insistent, telling Judas that her release is imminent. His fevered kisses claim her mouth as he crushes her body to his, rocking into her without mercy. His passion breaks upon her like raging waves upon the shore.
He forcefully grasps her thighs, guiding her to wrap them around his waist before his hands find her arms and raises them over her head. His hands rub up the length of them before his palms slide over hers, their fingers interlocking in one erotic moment, as their eyes meet with savage intensity. His voice is hoarse, and his eyes blaze with emotion as he rasps, "Say it again."
Her eyes never leave his as she moans in abandon, "I need you, Judas. Only you."
There is such strain in his voice as he breathes, "You’re mine." His jaw clenches as his hands grasp her wrists, pinning them to the bed. His eyes burn into hers as he thickly demands, "Say you’re mine."
She arches against him, his body continuing to slam into hers, the physical pleasure becoming more than she can stand, making her cry out her answer, "Oh God... I'm yours... Always…"
He kisses her fiercely, letting go of her wrists, and hauls her closer to him. Her hands grasp his shoulder, her fingertips biting into his flesh as she begins to climax. Finally, he gives himself over to the pleasure of her body. Her muscles start to contract around him, as their frantic movements grow rougher and more chaotic. He moans against her mouth, and the intolerable pleasure wracks her body as he blindly slams into her. For one moment, they’re lost in the possession of each other; their cries mingling with one another before the pleasure overwhelms them, becoming something too powerful for either of them to contain.
Belle clutches Judas tightly as she comes harder than she has ever done in her entire life. Her body tenses as she cries out in a shaky voice, "Oh, Judas!"
Judas relinquishes his control at the same time, the spasms in her body ruthlessly stimulating him, as he reaches his own climax. He moans as though savoring the long denied pleasure. She feels his body shudder as he spills his seed deep within her.
Belle feels as though her world has been turned upside down. The overwhelming storm of passion and emotion leaves her exhausted, as she clings to the center of her universe.
Judas Bane.
Spent by the forcefulness of their lovemaking, she collapses against him. He wraps his arms around her as he holds her close. Enfolded by his protective embrace, she sighs deeply, lost in the rhythm of his beating heart. Her own heart pounds fiercely, her pulse unnaturally loud in her own ears.
It seems an eternity that they remain like that. Slowly the world returns little by little and awareness of her surroundings creeps back in.
She breathes deeply, memorizing his unique scent. In his embrace, she feels deeply contented, and despite the fact that all reason maintains that she should fear Judas, she has never felt more safe and protected than she does now in his arms. The realization comes then with crystal clarity.
This is real.
This is right.
She’d thought once that Judas was playing a game with her, a game she was determined to win. But now, giving herself over to him, she knows the truth.
They have both lost.
THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE EASY. In and out. Erase the problem and wipe away the trail of evidence into non-existence.
But this one mission is fucking everything up. Judas is…
The shrill of the phone cracks like a whip in the empty room and Vladimir doesn’t even wait for the first ring to finish. “Yeah?"
“Boss, it's Nestor. Just got back from Wentworth Creek, we're on our way back."
“So what've you found?” Vladimir asks, peering out the window, his form the only presence and light in the room.
“Well, we tapped into the main database of the warehouse, made a duplicate of Spencer’s secretary’s computer memory… She, uh, found Judas’ private files—pictures."
Vladimir bites down, feeling a convulsion of rage steam up in his body, but he remains calm in his delivery. “Hmm. Anything else?"
“Nothing except…"
“What?” he snaps, pushing his fiste
d hand into his pant’s pocket.
“Well, while we accessed the memory, a bill came up for a leased blue minivan under the name Douglas Whitemore. Purchased and received the same week as the files were. The description of the minivan isn’t familiar to anyone when we asked around, but get this—it's the same car the cops put out an APB on after the Dela Cruzes went missing. Cops found the van two days later in Coastbourne somewhere. We got a hold of the police files and it's identical in license plate and everything to the car seen in front of the Dela Cruz's house the morning they disappeared."
“Really?” Vladimir drawls, cupping his chin. “What’d you think that means?"
“Dunno, Boss… Maybe they're up to something."
“Or…” Vladimir adds, his voice a deep shake, “…maybe someone tipped them off."
There’s a long pause before Nestor continues, “What'd you want us to do?"
“Get rid of it all. Go to the secretary’s house—you know the rest,” Vladimir orders mechanically, his monotone voice not deviating for a second. "Wait. Did you say the van was in Coastbourne?"
"Yeah."
"That's near Aston, right?"
"A few hours from there, yeah. Why?"
"Judas’ old mansion’s in Aston...” He sighs, shaking his head, deep in thought.
“Boss?”
“Stay out of sight for a coupla days. Things are gonna go down. Need clearance. If shit goes down, I'll call."
He clicks the phone off before waiting for Nestor's response and presses speed-dial Three.
“Roman."
"Find anything?"
"Boss. You ain't gonna fucking believe what I found out."
Chapter Twenty-Nine
JUDAS IS ALONE.
He’s always alone. That’s the way it should be. The only way a man like him deserves. But for the first time in his life, there is more to consider.
There is Belle.
Standing on his balcony, his unbuttoned black shirt flaps in the howling wind, reflecting the somber mood of the dark skies above. For so long he’s played the part his life has condemned him to. The heartless, invulnerable, Judas Bane.
Ever since that dark day...
And now, it seems all that can change. The dark oblivion he thrives in—is now his curse. He doesn’t want to find the right and good in the darkness that consumes every beat of his heart. But Belle draws him in like a black hole pulling him asunder, and his whole world has become her. It’s suffocating him. He can’t fucking breathe.
It’s so intense, it feels like dying all over again.
The bits and pieces of his plan had been falling perfectly into place. But now, after tasting the beginnings of victory, he’s in trouble. Belle had submitted and willingly given herself to him. Begged him like he’d wanted. She’d offered her body and her heart, and he had slept with her; it’s time to carry out the final part of his plan. But something has gone wrong.
He never expected this...
Happiness.
Belle makes him feel it, and it’s tearing him apart. He thought his feelings were physical and that sleeping with her would sate him from the longing that incessantly plagues him—because that’s what happens with every woman he sleeps with—and then executing the final part of his plan would be easy.
Who’s he kidding? He’d been hooked the moment he saw Belle walk into the attic. Hooked the moment he heard her angelic voice tell him that everything’s gonna be okay. Hooked the moment his eyes set on her big, innocent, stunning green ones...
He should have known then, what a world of trouble she is capable of causing. He was naïve to think his weakness for her would vanish. He doesn’t feel as though he's gotten ‘his fill’ of her at all. If anything, the need for her has only intensified, and now he feels as though he can never get enough of her.
But vengeance suits him. It’s driven him all his life; knows little else. Coming into his life, she’s caused him anguish. He’s sick and twisted, and that dark side of him wanted her to know that sort of agony.
Payback.
Revenge.
But last night made Judas forget everything. He had been content in lying in her arms, and he never wanted that feeling to end. The euphoria of her being so close to him, her words, her intoxicating kisses, and her gentle touch, almost made him forget the past. In those moments, his plan couldn’t have been further from his mind.
He had dared to dream.
And now... now he can never hurt her.
But he’s vulnerable now. For the first time, in a long time, someone has his heart in the palms of their hands. He swore he’d never be weak again. He learned that lesson when he was just seven-years-old.
The day he had died.
Looking out onto the vast view spread out before him, lightning flashes from the dark thunderclouds ahead and rain begins to pound the stone ledge. The more Judas thinks about it, the more he realizes retribution is unlikely to solve anything. The idea of hurting her now seems... wrong. He’s doubtful that revenge is ever what he'd really wanted. Now the only thing he truly wants is Belle. He knows she will be his end. That he’s entering a world of hurt. But he wants her, every part of her; he wants nothing else. He can no longer fight it. The need to possess, the need to lose himself in her... she’s smashed his pride and thrown his world into disarray.
What if he stops his plan? Told her the truth? Set her free? Or... be with her in a way he’s never dreamed of being with a woman…?
No, he can’t. It’ll be his downfall. Hers, too. He can’t let that happen. It’s thoughts like these that are so dangerous.
‘You make sacrifices for the ones you love...’
Vladimir wants her dead, and he’ll stop at nothing until her whole family is six-feet under. If Judas tells Belle the truth, she may not want to leave him—and worse, he may not let her leave. But it will be at the cost of her life. His world will destroy her. Vladimir will kill her. He can’t let that happen. Not again. Judas can’t let history repeat itself... He dares not even think of the consequences, for the thought of Belle dying, fills him with the worst sort of dread and despair.
There’s only one thing to do. For her protection, he has to be the monster the world has made him into, the one he knows he’s capable of being, the man he is without her, the side of him he wishes would just die when she is near.
He has to tread carefully. Both their future teeters on the edge of a knife. One slip, and there’ll be no going back. Despite being for different reasons than he intended, he will execute the final part of his plan.
Forgive me, Belle.
I’ll only drag you to Hell.
Chapter Thirty
JUDAS IS NOWHERE TO BE FOUND.
His bedroom is dark. Only sparse light spills in from the balcony. The grey light seems to fade as the Sun sinks lower behind the thunderheads on the horizon. Suddenly the heavy door behind Belle slams with a loud thud. She jumps at the sound. Undeterred, she ventures farther into the room. Her eyes darken, taking in more light as her gaze sweeps the seemingly vacant room.
She’s about to turn and leave when something stops her. There’s something different about the air in the room, a subtle stirring, making her skin tingle. Like an electric charge, it makes the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. The very air around her seems to crackle with some unleashed energy.
Judas.
A sudden flash of lightning illuminates the room from the open balcony. The jarring crash of thunder meets her ears, startling her. The crash is close, far too close. She backs away from the balcony, nearly tripping over her feet. Holding a hand over her chest, she turns just in time to see Judas emerge from the shadows.
Somehow he appears crueler than she remembers him. His icy gaze rakes over her as he stalks closer, his lips tightening into a thin grim line. The picture sends a chill through her body. Unable to meet his gaze, she lowers her eyes.
Something's wrong.
Only after a startled gasp escapes her lips does she realize t
hat she’s been backing away from his imposing presence. She stiffens suddenly, making a conscious effort to stand her ground. "Judas... you scared me," she says, catching her breath.
"Did I?" His tone is chilly, indifferent.
"Yes. Where have you been? I've been looking for you all day."
"Why?"
Caught slightly off-guard by the question, she stammers, "I, uh... well, I guess I was just a bit lonely." Her reply is met with silence. Ignoring the gut feeling that something is terribly wrong, she tells herself that his bad mood may be down to Vladimir. Had something happened? Has Vladimir found out they’re alive?
Maybe I can just lighten the mood a bit... It’s worth a shot.
"I missed you, Judas,” she says, biting her lip with a smile. “Where have you been?"
"That's none of your business." Her heart aches as he levels a cold glare at her. "While you’re here, you can clean for me. I need—"
"Clean for you?" she chokes. Her chest tightens like a corset is tied around her, strangling her ribs.
"Yeah. My boots. Polish them before I leave. I want them spotless."
She feels panic begin to swell in her chest as breathing becomes more difficult. Gaping up at him, she asks, "Polish your boots...? You're leaving?"
"Isn’t that what I just said? Are you deaf?" He strides away from her, not bothering to look back as he finishes, "Remember—spotless."
She darts ahead of him, slamming her body against the door to block his exit. Narrowing her eyes, she demands, "Why are you treating me like this?"
He sighs like she’s a pest irritating him. "Like what, Belle? Like someone tied to do what I want? That is why you’re here. To do whatever I want. Remember our deal?"
"What?” she seethes. “You can't be serious?"
Narrowing his eyes, he evenly replies, "Dead serious."
The pain of it is so moving, that she has to shut her eyes against it. "But...” She slowly opens her eyes, steeling herself to go on. “What about last night? And everything you said—everything I said!" she cries out.
