by Gemma James
“Let me come,” I begged.
“Not until you’re screaming for it.” He drove his cock in with renewed fervor, and we both cried out. “Not until you can’t breathe,” he said with a groan. “Fuck, I want you waking up on fire.” His hands squeezed, and I resisted fighting him, holding so tightly to the bars, my knuckles cramped.
Our gazes remained locked together as he choked the air from me. The moment was surreal, his eyes sparkling like emeralds for those few seconds when I turned my life over to him. Everything around him narrowed to black, and there was only him in my vision, in my world, in my heart. I opened my mouth, needing to say his name, but it wouldn’t come out.
“Don’t fight it. Just a couple more seconds—”
When I came to, his name a sigh on my lips, I felt his head disappear between my legs. He flattened his tongue on my clit and pressed hard. I squirmed and bucked, limbs quaking high on his shoulders, and gasped for breath. I wanted to claw at my neck, but my fingers remained one with the headboard. I wouldn’t let go, no matter what.
“Rafe!” I rasped. “I need to come. Let me come.” I repeated the plea until it became a continuous prayer. I didn’t know how he did it, but he was skilled at keeping me on edge. His tongue and fingers brought me higher, and my cries tore through the loft. Nothing on Earth felt as good as him between my thighs, licking and sucking, entering a finger and curling it just the right way.
Holy fuck.
He entered another finger, moved his mouth to my inner thigh, and bit down. His fingers worked me as I arched above the bed with a shriek. His teeth sank in deeper and that bite spread through me until I was out of control and lost in helplessness. He brought a hand up and twisted my nipple, eliciting a full-on scream.
Don’t let go of the bars…whatever you do, don’t let go.
“Please…please…give it to me.”
He pulled away and sat on his haunches, and I cussed at him, out of my mind as blood pumped to my core and begged for release. My foul-mouthed rant seemed to amuse him. “You’re an instrument I like to play. I can strum you for hours. I like you this way—wild, desperate, and fucking insane with lust.”
“Will you ever forgive me?” I squirmed as salty frustration drenched my cheeks. “I’ll do anything. Please, I need you.”
“Forgiving you won’t erase the last eight years. I can’t just wipe that shit from my head.”
I flushed with shame, acutely aware of how I was spread before him, wet between my thighs while his mind dwelled in past horrors. “I’d do anything to go back, Rafe.”
His brows furrowed over contemplative eyes. “What am I to you? Some fantasy you held on to all these years? What do I mean to you?”
I groaned. “You’re my beginning, my end. You’re my everything.”
Slowly, his face relaxing in something close to tenderness, he slid up my body and folded me in his arms. “You sure know how to twist the knife, sweetheart.” With a heavy sigh, he pushed into me again. His strokes were just right. His hand on my nape, holding me in place as he nibbled at my neck, was just right. His body enveloped mine, like a cherished present he was carefully unwrapping.
He gripped my neck, sank his teeth in, and I screamed when the tsunami began. I pulsed and clenched around him, ached long and deep, and I couldn’t stem the howl erupting from my being. I clutched his hair, no longer able to hold on to metal when I could hold on to him, not with the way I was coming. And just as the tide ebbed, another wave crested. He never stopped thrusting, didn’t slow or quicken his pace. He worked my body as if I were made for him.
“Do it again,” he said with a gruff quality that was sexy as hell. “Howl for me. Come undone. I’ll put you back together.”
I screamed again, my face a mess of sweat and tears, and grasped his shoulders, my fingernails biting into hot, damp skin. “I fucking love you,” I choked as the last ounce of strength fled. I was gelatinous skin and bones in his embrace.
“No, stay with me.” He still moved inside me, and his lips mashed against his teeth as he neared orgasm. He dropped his head into the crook of my shoulder, smothered a deep groan, and emptied into me.
Time stilled, seconds ticking in an endless loop while we held each other, and eventually our breathing slowed. Twined together in sweat, twisted in each other and in the sheets, the charged air blanketed us. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but his face took up space only inches from mine. I breathed in when he exhaled, our chests dancing together to the same beat. My skin tingled and sparked from head to toe, and I shivered because he was still nestled inside me, his erection growing by the second.
“I’m still fucking hard. I can’t get enough of you.” He pressed me into the mattress and pinned my arms above my head. His need to control no longer scared me. If anything, it made me feel more connected to him, more alive. By giving him this, I felt I was giving him back a small piece of himself. I’d never be able to atone for my sins, for the years of torment I’d put him through, but I could do this, could give him every broken piece of me.
“I’ve never felt this way before,” I whispered.
“What way?”
“Like you. Like I can’t get enough.”
“My insatiable little slut.” His lips curved against mine, taking the sting out of the insult. Unlike when Zach said it, the word held different connotations when coming from Rafe’s lips. Pride, possessiveness. His fingers tightened around my wrists. “My sexy little slut. I’ve waited so fucking long to be inside you.” His free hand circled my jaw, and his lips and tongue battled with mine endlessly. We came up for air, and he bit into my shoulder.
I drew in a breath between clenched teeth.
“Does my need to hurt you scare you?” he asked.
“No.”
“This is nothing, Alex. I have some really fucked up fantasies, things I’ve never tried with anyone.”
I should have felt at least marginally afraid by his admission, but I could only grasp a single detail—he’d never done the things he wanted to do with me.
“Like what?”
“That’s a conversation for another day.”
“Rafe,” I groaned.
“I’ll need to make you cry. Often. I love the taste of your tears.”
“My heart’s already bleeding them. Do what you need. I’m yours.”
“You’re gonna regret being mine.”
A tremor of fear speared through me. The way he said it, with unmitigated certainty, took my breath. He didn’t need to use his hands to steal my lifeblood.
He pulled out of me and crawled to his hands and knees. “Turn over.”
I flopped to my stomach and shivered as chills traveled over my back.
“I’m not done with you, not even close.”
20. INTRUDER
Alex
Something was wrong. It pulled at the edges of my mind and demanded I take notice. I reached for Rafe, but my fingers grasped empty space. His side was bereft, though the sheet still radiated his body heat, so he couldn’t have been gone long. I jolted upright, eyes blurry, and blinked. We must have fallen asleep after our second round of sex.
The loft was the way we’d left it, though it was cast in shadow, indicating the sun had set. Once my eyes adjusted, I noticed the ladder was closed and the bathroom door shut. Darkness seeped from underneath, so he wasn’t using the toilet. Grabbing the sheet and surrounding my body with it, I tiptoed to the ladder and let it drop to the floor with a loud clank that made me jump. I was about to call out his name when another voice stopped me.
“Who’s here?” Zach’s question thundered up the stairs, and I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep from crying out.
“Just some girl I hooked up with. Listen, we should talk about this when you’re sober.” Rafe’s calm tone poured over me like warm honey, and I let out a breath until it sank in that Zach was really here, just a few feet away. And he was drunk.
I stumbled back, gouging my fingernails in my arm, and lost
precious seconds as I thought of my brother discovering my presence. They exchanged more words but none of them penetrated. I was too frozen in a waking nightmare of Zach finding me in nothing but a sheet. He’d go irate and kill Rafe. Frantic, I searched for my clothes and found my sweats on the floor. The T-shirt was ruined, so I jerked a drawer open and grabbed a shirt that was sure to swallow my tiny frame. I stepped lightly across the room, gritting my teeth when the floorboards creaked, and listened, remaining out of sight.
“You’re a fuckin’ liar! I know she was on her way here.”
“What are you talking about?” Rafe’s voice held steady, but even so, I balled my hands. He could handle himself, I knew he could, but I couldn’t get the memories out of my head. Zach was insane when jealous and irrational, and it was like watching a lion let loose all its ferocity onto a weaker species.
Rafe had taken him down so many times during their matches, but this was real. This wasn’t a training session or a controlled fight inside a cage with screaming fans crowding around to watch. This was bad.
“The little bitch was running straight to you. I’m not stupid. Did she call you? Tell me what she said, every word. I need to know.”
“Seriously, Zach. I never heard from her.”
“She’s always wanted you, and now she’s”—his voice broke—“gone. Just like that. This is your fault! I swear to God, I’ll tear you to pieces if you don’t tell me what she told you.”
“I was convicted of raping her, remember?” Rafe’s tone barely concealed a lethal edge. “So why would she come here? That doesn’t make any sense.”
God, he was clever, and it made me love him all the more. Zach couldn’t argue with him, not without incriminating himself.
“Then why’d they pull her car from the river down the fucking highway?” he yelled.
“I don’t know.”
“I can’t go on without her,” Zach choked. “I won’t.”
“C’mon, man…” Rafe’s voice faltered, and my spine stiffened. Something had him scared. “Put the gun down.”
I gasped, then slapped my hands over my mouth, but it was too late. The sound echoed in my ears like a blaring siren, and I was certain Zach heard it.
“Tell your hookup to get her ass down here.”
“This is between you and me,” Rafe said. “I barely know her. She doesn’t need to be part of this.”
“Get down here now!” Zach shouted.
I stumbled down the stairs, my legs shaking so badly, Rafe steadied me to keep me from sprawling on my ass. He pushed me behind him, but not before I saw Zach’s eyes bulge.
“The hell?” He jabbed the gun in Rafe’s direction. “Lex?”
“Go home,” I told him, hating how my voice quaked. “I called the cops. Th-they’ll be here any minute.” It was a lie, Rafe knew it, as I didn’t have access to a phone, and I was positive Zach knew it too from the way I tripped over the words.
“Un-fucking-believable.” Zach’s bitter laugh made me cringe. “Do you think I give a shit about the cops? Let them come.”
Rafe was strung so tightly, I worried he’d strike at any second, but he reached a hand behind his back and clutched mine, as if I could anchor him. “What do you want, Zach?” he asked.
“I want you dead.”
I swallowed a sob and clung to Rafe’s hand. “Please, leave us alone.”
Zach gestured at me with the gun. “Get over here.”
“N-no.”
Rafe’s shoulders bunched, and his fingers squeezed mine.
“Now!” Zach staggered forward. “Get over here, or I swear to God, I’ll shoot him.”
A sob escaped, as I recognized the truth in his words. Even though he was wasted, a gun evened the playing field. He was much too close, and it wouldn’t take a straight shot to hurt or even kill. I went to move away from Rafe, but he wouldn’t let go.
“You’re not touching her. You want to shoot me, do it, but you’re not laying a hand on her.”
“Don’t test me!” Zach roared, raising the gun a few inches.
I yanked free and flung myself at Zach, clutching his shoulders, and the barrel pressed into my chest. “I’m here. Don’t hurt him.”
“What are you doing?” Rafe shouted.
“Stay back,” Zach warned him. “Don’t make me hurt her.”
I couldn’t see Rafe’s reaction to my brother’s threat, but Zach’s lips thinned into a dangerous line. “Did you fuck him?”
“Zach,” I pleaded, avoiding his furious gaze.
He gave me a rough shake with his free hand. “Answer the question!”
“Yes!”
He spit at me, and I resisted the urge to inch back as I wiped my cheek on my sleeve. He’d only pounce on it, see it as a display of weakness. As long as I stayed between the gun and Rafe, Zach couldn’t shoot him. Somehow, I had to get the weapon away from him.
“Why, Lex? Why can’t you love me like I love you?”
“If you love me, you’ll calm down and think about what you’re doing.” My words seemed to have the desired effect. He let out a breath, and I felt the gun slide down my chest by a few degrees.
“Of course I love you, baby. I’m the only one who loves you. He’s just a fucking waste of space.” He tried to push me to the side, but I clung to his jacket.
“Let’s go,” I said. “Right now. We’ll get far away from here, just you and me.” I inched a hand down his chest, disguising my aim for the gun as a caress.
Rafe jerked me back before I got close to the weapon and shielded me with his body. “Fuck no. You’re not stepping foot out of here with him.” Holding my hand tight with one hand, he gestured toward the gun with the other. “Why don’t you put that down and fight me, like we used to, or are you too washed up to take me?”
With a snarl, Zach switched on the safety and jammed the gun into his waistband. “Bring it, asshole. I can take you in my sleep.”
With the gun no longer a threat, and Zach too wasted to be a real challenge, Rafe wouldn’t have a problem taking him down.
“You haven’t been locked up with hardened criminals,” Rafe said as he moved toward my brother, his grip slipping from mine. “I’m gonna rip you a new one for what you did to me, for how you raped your own sister, you sick fuck.” He rolled his shoulders, his stance wide and hands balled at his sides.
I jumped back and slapped a palm over my mouth as he charged Zach. He grabbed him and brought his knee up, one, two, three times until Zach fell to his knees. Something insidious unleashed in Rafe, and it scared the shit out of me. I’d never seen him so unhinged. He pounded on Zach with his injured hand, but it didn’t slow him down.
Zach countered the next onslaught of punches and managed to get an arm around Rafe’s neck. I screamed, my heart in my throat as I watched them fight for survival. This wasn’t a battle for something as inconsequential as a title. This was a battle for life. Rafe’s, mine, even Zach’s.
Rafe tried to turn into the choke hold, but my brother was high on adrenaline and obsession and wasn’t about to let go. Rafe’s face blanched, eyes rolling back, and I recognized the burn for air by the grimace on his face, certain it was the same expression that crossed mine whenever he choked me. Except Zach wouldn’t stop at unconsciousness. He’d kill him, and not even a bloodstream full of alcohol would hinder him.
“Stop!” I pounced on his back and reached into his waistband, desperate to get my hands on the gun. I curled my fingers around the handle and jumped back, flipped off the safety, and held it in shaking hands, aiming at Zach’s head. “Let him go!” I hoped he’d hear the steel in my voice, realize how serious I was, because if I had to choose between Rafe and him, it would be Rafe. “Now!” I shouted, steadying the gun, my finger on the trigger. “You know Dad taught me to shoot. I won’t miss.”
Zach scowled but let Rafe’s limp body drop to the floor. “You’re not gonna shoot me.”
I fired a shot over his shoulder, thankful for all the times our father had
taken me to the range. Zach put his hands up and backed toward the door. Rafe gasped for breath as he pushed to his hands and knees. My attention wavered from Zach for an instant, just long enough for him to flee through the front door.
Rafe rose to his feet, his breaths coming fast and hard. “Give me the gun.”
The aftereffects of jumping my brother hit me, and the gun wobbled in my hand. “I-I…”
“C’mon, hand it over. He’s gone now.”
For how long?
Rafe took the gun and curled a hand around my bicep. “I’m getting you out of here.”
“W-where are we going?” Of course, I knew, but even with my brother on the run and posing a real threat, I couldn’t stem the panic at the thought of leaving. “I can’t do this.”
“No choice. I’m getting you off this island.”
I pulled against his hold, my heart pounding so hard, I thought my chest would rip open. “No! Please. Let’s just call the cops.” Even as the words left my mouth, I realized why he couldn’t. The cops would come, and the island and cabin would become a crime scene. They’d find the prison down in the cellar and they’d start asking questions, namely why someone who was supposed to be dead was still very much alive. I struggled as he forced me from the house, down the porch, a few steps closer to the water.
“I need you safe,” he said, “because I’m gonna fucking kill him.”
I dug in my heels, bare feet sliding over dirt and rock. “You can’t! You’re not a murderer, Rafe!” He was too prone to guilt. I’d seen it firsthand. “It’ll destroy you.”
He picked me up and flung me over his shoulder, and I kicked, clawed, screamed, hit…all of it seemed to bounce off him as he strode toward the water.
“I’m doing this for you.”
I screamed, coming unglued as he tossed me into a boat. The water terrified me, but as he unwound the rope anchoring me to the dock, that almost split me in two. “Come with me! Please, Rafe! Please—” I broke into unintelligible sobs, left with nothing to do but drift away from the island. From him.
