Broken Parts (A Dark Romance) (Parts of Me Book 3)

by J. A. Wynters

  “Luce mia.” I groaned as I tasted her sweetness, the fruity flavour of her wine ripe on her tongue. She was a goblet full to the brim with liquor and sweet things, and I was about to drink from her, indulge in her gifts until I consumed all of her.

  I took Mia’s hand and pulled her from the couch. “Stand up Mia,” my voice was scratched and gruff, she stood up to her full length and I loomed over her, taking her in, sucking in her perfume and boring into her eyes the golden flakes jumping in anticipation.

  I stroked the line of her chin, slowly tracing it with a light touch, bringing my thumb to her lips and sweeping them slightly with the most tender of touches. She purred at my touch. My hands reached for her jeans, undid the button and tugged. “You won’t need these,” I whispered into her ear. Mia pulled them off leaving them in a puddle on the floor.

  I pressed my body forwards, forcing hers onto the arm of the couch. “Sit Mia,” I growled at her and she obeyed.

  I traced the line of her jaw and brought my fingers to her chin, ensuring she looked into my eyes. I wanted to see her, into her, watch as I touched her, felt her, devoured her; she was mine and I was going to make certain she knew.

  Not breaking eye contact, I reached for her shirt and begun to unbutton it one button at a time, revealing a lacy black bra holding a pair of perfectly perky breasts. She gasped as I pushed the left one out of its cup and reached for her nipple already hardening. I pinched it lightly, and Mia’s chest rose and her eyes fell away.

  “Eyes on me!”

  Mia’s eyes locked on mine and I rewarded her with a delicate kiss, sucking her nipple into my mouth and tugging it with my teeth. I watched the need spill into her eyes and my body tightened with its own desires.

  My hand reached over to her other breast and, like the first, I pulled down the cup. Her exposed breasts were held up neatly allowing me to pinch and roll her nipples—taste, tease, tug.

  Mia’s thighs rose, her legs began to shake, her breaths became shallow.

  “Stop moving,” my voice brought us both to a halt, “Eyes on me.” I reminded her as I took a step back admiring my handy work. Her beautiful nipples stood to attention, the pink, plump tips hardened and glistening against the fire light.

  Her lips parted and eyes dilated, her breath hitched—she looked fucking delectable. The fire crackled painting her body honey and ochre, and all I wanted was to lick it all from her body—all the sweetness and goodness—and make it all mine, letting it saturate my insides so that I too could become good and sweet. Except I had dark desires that I was about to impart and I hoped her goodness could withstand my ruthlessness.

  I walked back to the couch and put my hands on her knees, “Open!”

  Mia parted her thighs willingly. My fingers traced the lines of her outer thigh and rounded her ass, grabbing the elastic of her silky, black panties and pulled them off revealing her beautiful, pink pussy. Instinctively she closed her legs.

  “I said open! Don’t let them close again or there will be consequences, do you understand?”

  “Yes Gabriel,” her voice was shallow and deep. My name on her lips sent a shiver around my body that ricocheted against my heart.

  I forced her knees further apart, and she found purchase on the couch, arching her back and throwing her head back.

  “You are incredible,” My voice grated against her skin as I fell to my knees, kissing the silken length of her thigh, her scent rising to torment my senses and tamper with my sanity. My nails dug into her flesh, and she cried out as my tongue tasted her. She was heat and honey, and I savoured her flavour as my tongue flicked and lashed against her wet lips. Relishing a long, slow ride of delight that drew desperate moans from Mia and made me more rigid, engorged, and hungry. I devoured her in a tender assault of the senses. Her hands clutched fistfuls of my hair, pulling me against her, her hips moving against my mouth—wanting more, wanting me, wanting control.

  I pulled away from her and she whimpered, her need searing and raw.

  “Not yet luce mia,” I whispered against her and bit the swollen soft flesh of her breast. She cried out and the sound ignited the maddening wildness that brewed beneath our gentleness.

  I ripped her from the couch and pushed her to her knees. Her shaking hands reached for my jeans, tearing at the zipper, scratching at the button as she pulled them down freeing me. Her hands circled along my shaft and she pulled me into her hot mouth, ripping a primal, guttural growl from me.

  I sank my fingers into her hair and yanked her up. My cock pulled from her mouth with a pop, and we both groaned our disappointments.

  I spun Mia around and bent her over the arm of the couch, forcing her legs apart with my own and pressing her head below the arm of the couch where it locked.

  “I don’t want you to move Mia.”

  She whimpered her response, her chest rising and falling as I prowled around her fighting the onslaught of raw physical desire and my need to possess her. If I was going to show her how much I loved her, I had to show her what love really was—a long torturous path, full of anguish and pain that ends in fantastic pleasure. My need to make her suffer with need defied reason, but I didn’t care. I was possessed by her—infected with Mia.

  I positioned myself behind her, my hard cock between her wet lips, and I moved ever so slowly. My cock slid against her as my hands explored her skin with feather light touches. She shivered beneath me, her moans growing with each movement, her legs quivering. She wanted to move against me but she was trapped, her head pushing against the unmoving couch. She was a prisoner and torturing her was insanely satisfying.

  I kept sliding against her and the more she tried to push against me—trying to force my body to please hers—the slower my movements became.

  “Please Gabriel.” She begged as her whimpers became mewls of desperation, her legs shaking with need, her face an anguished mask of agony.

  I was stripping her sanity bit by bit, pushing her to her limits, and pushing myself over a cliff I have always wanted to fall down. It was a kind torment; a delectable agony, a wild and fierce possession of all her senses, a disillusion of mine. It was purity and beauty in its rarest form. We were a broken fucked up diamond, and I was about to carve us to a million dazzling pieces.

  “Tell me Mia, say the words.”

  “Gabriel…”

  “Say them.”

  “I.Love.You.” Her ragged breath fell from her as the words tumbled in a strained, shaky voice, and my heart seized as they sneaked inside—settling, spreading, and infecting my soul.

  I tumbled into the abyss and slammed into her; she cried in pleasure, in pain, in despair and in relief. I withdrew, slower this time and slid home again. Home. She was my home. I grabbed her hips, my fingers digging into her clammy body saturated in sweat and sex like a fever. Maybe I infected her too.

  My cock drove into her, fueling the frenzied madness that brewed between us; a demented, throbbing need that spiraled into untamed urgency that neither of us had any control over. It raged through us like a scorching deluge, shredding our sanity and stripping us raw to our need. I smothered her with my body, answering the desperate way she pushed into my thrusts. My body grew rigid, my grip tighter—bruising—as Mia splintered around me and we fell.

  We tore apart seeking comfort in each other’s arms, seeking to regain a perch in this world, a semblance of sanity.

  We fell back and I pulled us away from the couch and onto the cold bed, breathless and senseless.

  I held her as if she was the only real thing in this world, and she pulled me to her, clawing her way back to me.

  “Mia, luce mia.” I managed.

  “Gabriel…” she tucked herself into me, curling against my heated skin—wasted, exhausted, and elated. She closed her eyes and we both melted into the darkness.

  Morning light pierced through drawn curtains in a fine, sharp line. Like a splinter, my entire world shattered in the most beautiful and petrifying ways. My heart swelled and chugged as I th
ought of Mia calling my name, and my skin crawled with warmth as she uttered the words, “I love you Gabriel.”

  I pulled her body to me and relished in her warmth, her scent, and her beauty. She mumbled into her pillow and I chuckled. Mia was not a morning person.

  “Why are you up already?”

  “It’s already late and we still have one more thing to do before we head back.”

  She mumbled something incoherent and tried to pull away from me. I pulled her closer to me and held on to her.

  “I thought you said we had to get up.”

  “I am up.” I bit her shoulder as I ground my hardness against her ass.

  “You are insatiable Gabriel.”

  “Can you blame me?”

  “Let me go. I stink.”

  “You smell incredible,” and she did—of me and sex and jasmine. I nibbled her ear.

  “I’m gross.”

  “You’re stunning.” I kissed the curve of her shoulder.

  “Let me go.” She whined, and I grinned against her long neck.

  “Beg me.”

  She huffed and I tightened my grip around her, my erection sliding between her legs.

  “Beg Mia.”

  “Gabriel,” she whined again as my cock slid against her wetness, shadows of the night before echoing between us.

  “Beg.” I hissed as I nibbled her neck, my teeth sinking into her flesh.

  “Please Gabriel.”

  “What are you begging for Mia?”

  “Gabriel…”

  “Do you want me to let you go?”

  “Never let me go Gabriel.” Her voice trembled.

  I purred at the words, “Now say it”

  I loosened my grip but didn’t release her fully.

  “Say.It.” I gritted my teeth.

  “Gabriel…” she whispered as my arms hardened around her in a threat to cage her in again, my erection still sliding along her wetness.

  “I love you.”

  “Mm mm. I fucking love when you say that.” I rolled above her and captured her mouth in mine. I didn’t care about the frizzy morning hair or tired eyes, I just wanted to show her each and every fucking moment that I felt the same.

  My swelling erection slid against her wetness—grinding, teasing, wanting.

  “Gabriel…” she moaned into my mouth, and I felt myself harden even more.

  I slipped inside her, a deep growl emanating from somewhere inside me, something primal and needy that felt her and demanded her everywhere.

  I kissed her as I moved inside her; I wanted my lips and my tongue to say all the words that hung on their edge but that I was unable to say. I wanted to create our own language—a language only our bodies understood, a language that our heat and need translated to desire and desperation that was bigger than ourselves.

  Her nails bit into my skin as she stole my breath with her burning moans. I dragged my mouth from hers just so I can watch her face as it grimaced and tore into joy and delight, as her full lips pulled and pouted, breathlessly beckoning me as her eyes fluttered shut. Her fevered skin coloured and her body quivered as she fell in final surrender. My flesh fused in hers, my need urgent and desperate as she pulled me apart and consumed all that was left of me.

  “Luce mia.” I uttered the words against her searing flesh. I found her mouth and kissed her greedily falling on my back and releasing her at last.

  “Are you going to do that every time I say I love you?”

  “Why don’t you say it again and find out?”

  She bit her lip, a smile spreading across her glowing face, “You’re incorrigible Gabriel.”

  “I can’t help what your words do to me, Mia.”

  Our eyes locked for a second and I saw a flicker of something in hers. It was momentary and fleeting, and she tore her eyes away from mine and got off the bed.

  I watched her walk into the bathroom and moments later the taps came on. I reached for the phone by the bedside and called the main house.

  “Hello.” A male voice answered after the third ring.

  “We’re ready.”

  “Excellent. We will be down in thirty minutes.”

  I hung up and made my way to the shower, hoping Mia would tell me again that she loved me.

  “Why do you keep looking at your watch?” She looked stunning with her makeup-free face and wild, wet hair that hung around her like loose ropes.

  The knock on the door was my response.

  “Let’s go.”

  I shot up and opened the door. Geoff stood outside, his thick moustache stretching across his face. He wore a large hat that covered his hair and sunglasses that were too big for his face.

  “Good morning, I trust you had a good night?”

  I nodded while Mia’s face flushed in crimson.

  “Should we get going?”

  I grabbed Mia’s hand and stepped outside as we followed the farmer to a golf cart that waited at the end of the lane. We hopped on and took off. In the morning light, the farm seemed to stretch on for miles. Green pastures surrounded the lush, green property as the buggy turned lazily around paved paths.

  The smell permeated the air, it changed and soured around us from fresh earth to pungent, old sweat. Mia stiffened next to me and we rounded a sloping corner. The large shed was as manicured as the house and the lawns, made of oak planks and a sloping corrugated iron roof that was painted a too-bright-red.

  Geoffrey parked the buggy and stepped out leading us towards the stables. We bypassed the building, walking around it to a fenced oval pasture. Mia grew rigid as a second man came into view.

  He rode a white horse that seemed to be wearing long black socks, while leading two others in his wake—one Chestnut, the other bay coloured. The horses were in full riding gear, galloping along the fence.

  Geoffrey put two fingers to his mouth and blew out a short, sharp whistle. The man whipped his head around and when he saw us, kicked the stirrups and lead the horses towards us.

  I could feel Mia’s body harden as the beasts approached us. I put it to excitement as my own heart constricted with joy.

  I’ve never been to a working farm before; well, not in the sunlight and not one where I didn’t burn everything down, and I’ve never ridden a horse. The lead horse snorted and shook his head as the three neared us and I resisted the urge to take a step back. I’ve never backed away from anything, I wasn’t about to now.

  Geoffrey climbed the fence, his hands hanging over the white wood. He reached for the horses as they approached allowing them to smell his hand and he patted the one nearest to him along the cheek, burying his face against the long snout. When he turned to us his face beamed.

  “This here is Garnet and she’s a beauty. Max will ride her as he guides you today, and these here are BONNIE & CLYDE.” I eyed Geoffrey and he burst out laughing.

  “Don’t worry, they’re not outlaws.” His laughter boomed out of him like thunder rolling across the green field.

  “So why the names?”

  “They were just inseparable,” his glance pivoted from my face to Mia and back again, “We bought them from another farmer who said he couldn’t break either one in. I found that hard to believe, I’ve never owned a horse that didn’t work for a livin’.” He patted Garnet’s long, white neck and they shared a long look, the horse’s long white lashes hooded its eyes. “Once we got ‘em over here, we placed them in their stalls, one on each end of the stable. They went mad, kicking and snorting, until we put them side by side. I’ll be honest, I’ve never seen two horses like them. Once we started training them, we found that they wouldn’t break alone. They resisted, they retaliated, but as soon as we put them together it was like a calm settled over them,” he reached over to Clyde and patted the long neck, “I think this old rascal just needed a girl to show him what’s what.” He chuckled and the horse shook his head.

  “My wife suggested we call them Romeo and Juliet, but their story was far too tragic.”

  I frowned at his
words, “As was Bonnie and Clyde’s.”

  He rubbed his chin considering my words and shrugged, “Perhaps, but at least they went down like they lived—wild and well and together.” A strange smile crossed his face and he patted Clyde once more, “Don’t worry, as long as they stay together everything will be fine.”

  But if they didn’t stay together? I wondered as he turned to Max and gave him instructions. I wrapped my arm around Mia and pulled her close, she felt distant and was yet to utter a word since we arrived.

  “Are you ok? I thought you would be a little more excited,” I turned to look at her face and noticed her eyes, tears pooled at the rims, “Mia?”

  “No,” she reached for me and placed a hand on my chest, “There’s just…” here eyes swung from her hands to the horses and back to me, “Gabriel, I—”

  “We don’t have to ride if you’re not ready.”

  “No, that’s not it.”

  “Mia?”

  “It’s—”

  “Would you like to feed the horses?” Geoffrey interrupted as he approached us with a bucket full of hay and some chopped up vegetables. He paused and stammered when he saw Mia.

  She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and plastered a fake ass smile on her face. I’m not sure who she thought she was fooling, “Yes, let’s feed the horses.”

  She stepped towards Geoffrey and accepted a handful of veg from him. I followed suit wondering if I pushed too soon, maybe she wasn’t ready for horses or for reminders.

  I grabbed a handful of hay and vegetables and mimicked Mia. She hung over the fence, her hand outstretched to Bonnie. I held mine over towards Clyde who took a few steps towards me. The massive horse sniffed then began chewing.

  Geoffrey grabbed my wrist, “Open your hand with a straight palm, friend.”

  I looked to Mia who opened her cupped hand too. She must've been overwhelmed being so close to horses again, horses that resembled her Cookie and Jigsaw so perfectly. I berated myself again but was drawn back to Clyde who was frothing at the mouth just lightly, the bit tucked into his mouth pulling against the lips. He chewed the food from my hand leaving a slimy layer of saliva, which I wiped all over the back of my jeans.