by Gemma James
“I’m ready,” I said with a hard swallow. As she signaled to the guys that we were about to begin, I prayed to a higher power that Rafe and I would be allowed this one day.
This one perfect fucking day, with the temperature a breezy eighty degrees, the sun dipping toward the horizon as it shone its rays onto the rows of grape vines in the distance. Not many things had escaped the fiery destruction of my lie at fifteen, but Mason Vineyards had been saved, despite the fire our enemies had set ablaze as a sick form of retribution.
I saw the salvaging of the vineyard as a sign of hope.
“He’s waiting,” Angel said.
A simple statement, but true in its simplicity. Rafe Mason had been waiting for over eight years.
To enact revenge for the sins I’d committed against him.
To succumb to the darkness inside his soul, allowing him the freedom to unleash his twisted fantasies on me.
To love me.
I let out a breath, and the wind carried it away as I took my first step.
1. NOT OUT OF THE WOODS
Alex
Six weeks earlier…
Part of me knew I was dreaming. The bars of the cage surrounded me as I huddled in a corner, naked and chilled to the bone, the room too dim to make out details. I could have been in Rafe’s cellar—the dank place the fire on the island destroyed—or I might have been somewhere else entirely.
Maybe the location didn’t matter. Maybe the why of this subconscious hell was most important of all.
Someone lingered in the darkness, out of reach and out of sight, though I heard his heavy boots hitting the ground as he circled the cage and the prey inside it.
“Rafe?” I called out as a tremor of fear trapped my vocal cords. What if it wasn’t Rafe? What if the man on the other side of those bars was someone more…sinister?
I didn’t want to face that conclusion. I’d had enough run-ins with sinister to last me a lifetime.
“Rafe’s gone,” the person stalking me said, his voice distorted. My gut told me it was Jax.
Made sense, considering he was the bearer of bad news.
“Where is he?”
“He’s gone, Alex.”
“Gone where? Tell me!” I jumped to my feet and fisted the cold bars, glaring at the messenger’s shadowy form. “Please.” My voice cracked, betraying my inherent weakness. “Where is he?”
“I told you. Rafe is gone. He’s not coming back.”
I wailed. I tried shaking the bars loose. Then I wailed some more, unable to bear this freezing agony of pitch-black, trapped inside the cage of Rafe’s absence. I sank to the concrete as the last minuscule of hope seeped from my body.
We’d been through too much, had come too far.
All for nothing.
Rafe was gone, and I was alone in the dark.
I jerked awake to the deep croak of a bullfrog. A blanket of shadows slumbered with us in our tent, and Rafe lay beside me, undisturbed by my nightmare as he draped an arm across my stomach. I held my breath for several seconds, afraid he’d detect the rampant beat of my heart.
No one’s heart should pound so fast. It was unnatural, had to be dangerous. My limbs trembled, sweat bathed my cleavage, yet I felt chilled to the soul. Slowly, I resumed breathing.
Still, he slept.
And I couldn’t fault him for that. In fact, I was grateful he hadn’t awakened. Between the nightmares and our propensity for sexual depravity that kept us awake into the wee hours of the morning, sleep was scarce.
I lifted his hand from my belly, where his palm warmed the tattoo of his name imprinted on my skin, and extricated myself from his side to pull on a long-sleeved flannel shirt that fell mid-thigh. I unzipped the tent, wincing as the sound tore through the night. The bullfrog fell silent for a few seconds, and I held my breath as I waited for Rafe to catch me escaping. I wasn’t going far, but he didn’t like when I sought solitude at times like these.
If he knew I was keeping my nightmares from him, he’d take his belt to my ass. The thought made me wet between the thighs, as it always did, but I wasn’t foolish enough to believe the punishment would end with my sexual gratification. With the pain of his discipline came another kind of ache. True punishment lay in the way he left me on the edge of needing to come.
Even knowing what I would face after he learned of the doubts plaguing me—and he would find out—I still kept the insecurities to myself, because I didn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes when he realized my trust in him was wavering.
As I approached the shoreline of the lake where he’d taught me to swim, I wished I were brave enough to dive into the cool water and wash away this illogical neurosis that refused to stop haunting me. But fear was a tricky entity that didn’t conform to logic. Maybe I was destined to be afraid.
Of the water in front of me.
Of Rafe leaving.
Disappearing.
Poof.
Gone.
No matter how much time went by, I couldn’t shake it. Determined to test the phobia staring me in the face now, I shuffled my feet toward the water and submerged my toes. Despite the warm summer night, gooseflesh erupted on my skin. My pulse sped up again, the urge to retreat overwhelming.
Still, I forced my feet into the lake and tilted my face toward the canvas of sparkling diamonds that weren’t as visible in the city. The moon hung in the sky, a sliver that rippled across the water. This spot was private, peaceful, but the sense of contentment that usually came when I gazed at the night sky was absent. Closing my eyes, I inhaled the fresh air and swayed to the tune of harmless amphibians and chirping insects.
But the tightening in my chest refused to abate. I inched a hand under the sleeve of my flannel and scraped my nails down my arm, digging in as deep as they’d go, and exhaled as the addictive sting rushed through me. It wasn’t enough, was never enough.
The sound of footsteps drifted to where I stood, and I pulled my hand out from under my sleeve before Rafe settled his large hands on my shoulders. “What are you doing?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“How come?”
The truth caught in my throat, and I swallowed it down. “A frog woke me.”
His heavy sigh rustled my hair. “Stop lying to me. I know you’ve been having nightmares again.”
I should have known. Keeping shit from him was impossible. We were attuned to each other, existing on the same wavelength, the same frequency.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“Tell me about them now.” His demand was gentle, but a riff of something dark undermined his soft tone. He would make me pay for my silence. As he slid his fingers down my arm and caressed beneath the cuff of my sleeve, I knew he’d punish me for the marks as well.
Because Rafe never failed to punish, and despite the dread growing in my gut, I’d have it no other way.
“I was back in the cage, and you were just…gone.”
Vanished, disappearing from my life with no explanation. No recourse. Thinking about it made me angry—almost angry enough to blot out the hurt scarring my heart. Almost.
He gathered me in his arms, and I knew he was trying to calm me down, trying to take the burden from my shoulders.
If only it were that easy.
“I’m right here, babe.”
I couldn’t reply because he wouldn’t like what I had to say. Even though I wanted to believe he’d always be by my side, my subconscious didn’t. Wouldn’t. Something inside me still waited for the other shoe to drop, as if the past still chased us, licking our heels as we tried to outrun it.
But most of all…
I wanted something…no needed something that he refused to give.
“Why won’t you marry me?”
He whirled me around to face him. “Come back to bed.” Sidestepping my question, he tugged on my arm. I followed him into our tent as hurt welled in my throat and burned my eyeballs.
The dim light of the moon cast us in silhouette
. Rafe shed his shorts as I shrugged out of the flannel shirt, and we returned to the sleeping bag, our naked bodies pressing together in the limited space. I couldn’t see his brilliant green gaze, but I sensed him seeking me out in the quiet—save for the frogs and crickets melodizing the night. Our spot deep in the woods enshrined us in comforting shadow.
“Tell me more about your nightmares.” A breathless quality stole his voice as he grabbed me by the nape.
“It’s always the same. I’m in a cage, it’s dark…someone else is there in the shadows.” I swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump in my throat. “I think it’s Jax, and he…he tells me you’re not coming back.”
The warm pads of his fingers trailed across the back of my neck before inching into my hair, hand tangling in my curls. “I came back, and I’m never going anywhere again. I need you too damn much.”
I’d never tire of hearing him say it. It felt good to be needed by him. To be loved by him even though I deserved neither.
“Promise?”
“Fuck, yes.” As he rolled me to my back, he let my hair slip through his fingers.
Neither of us moved. Second by second, the shadow of his face came into focus, and the weight of his brilliant green stare pinned me to the spot.
“Touch me, Alex.”
I ran my hand down his ripped abs, hesitating at his belly button. Teasing the trail of hair below it.
He sucked in a breath. “Wrap your fingers around me.”
God, I melted at the hoarse need in his voice.
Reaching lower, I found him hard, his shaft smooth and warm. Tempting as fuck.
His cock had a way of suppressing my fears, of dragging me to a place where doubt didn’t exist. To a place where nothing mattered except the way our bodies came together.
“I need you,” I said, closing my fist around velvety steel, grazing the plump head with my thumb.
“Look what you do to me, Alex. I’m not going anywhere.” He let a long beat pass. “Except inside your tight cunt.” He pushed my hand out of the way and thrust into me in a single, violent joining of bodies.
This man never failed to rob me of breath—no matter his methods. Holding onto his shoulders, I spread my thighs wider, allowing him to drive his cock deeper. As his teeth scraped down my neck, I let out a whimpering moan.
By the time he was through, I’d have the coyotes howling right along with me.
It didn’t take much for me to get there. It never did with him. “Rafe, I’m…gonna…come.”
“You’re not coming,” he said with a grunt, fingers gripping my throat. He used his free hand to trap my wrists above my head. If there was ever a time to fear the unrelenting grip of his hand, it was now, when he was balls deep inside of me. When the darkness pulled at the sexual beast in him—a moment that always came like an inevitability.
Like the sunrise at dawn or the earth’s high tides every twelve hours.
I’d never known such intensity before Rafe, and if anything ever separated us, I’d go my whole life never experiencing that kind of all-consuming connection again.
When he choked me, it was always one of the most heightening moments of my existence, with his cock buried clear up to his balls, and our hearts thumping against each other, beating to the same tune, keeping the same time. Bodies desperate and drenched in sweat.
And Rafe, always on edge yet perfectly in control as he wrapped his hand around my throat and squeezed. Sometimes, if I tried hard enough, I’d catch the utter look of awe on his face before I lost consciousness.
Sometimes, I even heard him cry out my name before he sent me into blackness.
My first instinct was to fight, but I knew better than to try. When it came to me, Rafe Mason got what he wanted. As he curled his hand around my neck, bringing on that floaty, light-headed feeling I loved and hated, he dipped his head and claimed my mouth. His lips coaxed mine apart, and the impatient thrust of his tongue demanded I submit to his kiss. The vise of his fingers cut off my air, second by second, sparking stars in my vision. He had me right where he wanted me.
Powerless and defenseless.
And I was.
Living out in these woods with him had completely isolated me. Rafe could do whatever he wanted, and I had nowhere to run. No place to hide where he wouldn’t find me. No soul around for miles that could help me.
If that didn’t speak of my trust in him, then I didn’t know what would. If only I could get my subconscious to accept that truth.
He slowed to a languid tempo, hips undulating against mine in an aching ballad of agony. Each purposeful slide of his cock was designed to send me higher, even as his grip on my throat grounded me.
Rafe was an expert at playing my body to perfection.
“You’re mine,” he moaned against my damp lips. “Mine to fuck. Mine to choke.”
Pushing my tongue against his, I whimpered as our kiss reached fever pitch. Our mouths fused, tongues clashing in a war for leverage, demanding the other’s defeat.
He had my head lodged between the bedroll we slept on and his insistent kiss. The vibrations of our shared moans tumbled off my tongue like a symphony, heating my veins with desperation. I needed air.
I needed him to keep fucking me even more.
“Baby,” he rasped out. “Above all else, you’re mine to love. I’m not going anywhere. Do you understand me?”
I tried nodding as I wheezed out a plea in the form of his name.
“I mean it, Alex. I’ll choke you every goddamn day until you get that through your head.”
Under his increasing strength, I gulped then managed to croak two dangerous words.
“Marry me.”
“You’re already mine.” He flexed his hand around my throat as he gave me his favorite, stubborn answer. In our hearts, where it mattered, we were already married, and no piece of paper would make me belong to him more than I already did now. That’s what he always told me.
But God, I wanted it.
A wedding. Rafe standing at the end of the aisle.
Waiting for the girl he loved.
Nothing extravagant. That wasn’t his style. Rafe wasn’t the type of man that heeded society’s conventions. But for once, I wanted the fairytale.
Most of all, I wanted his last name.
“Please…” I said on a choked plea.
The surrounding air grew thicker. Darker. As I started to slide under, he expelled a deep groan right before he whispered my name, his voice reverent.
I gave myself over to the blackness infiltrating from the edges.
Seconds might have passed. Forever might have come and gone. As I regained consciousness, I had no way of knowing in my disoriented state. I only knew my chest felt lighter, rising and falling with the gift of oxygen.
Rafe spread my thighs, and I forgot how to draw in a breath when he dipped his tongue between the folds of my drenched sex. I cried out, my spine arching, the heels of my feet digging into the ground. He anchored my wrists at my sides, and I grieved for his hands. I didn’t want them holding me down—I longed for them touching me, his thick fingers thrusting inside me, keeping pace to the steady licks of his tongue.
My body broke out in a sweat, and even though I squirmed, cried, and begged, I knew he wasn’t going to let me come. This was his way of punishing me for bringing up marriage again, for scratching my skin, for hiding my nightmares. He refused to open up about his, but he expected me to tell him everything.
His stoic silence didn’t fool me. I was at the center of every horrid detail he relived in his sleep. Not as an active participant, but the reason behind it all. He could trace every memory of those rapes in prison back to me.
To my selfishness at fifteen.
To my cowardice.
To my lie.
A lifetime of loving him wouldn’t make up for what I’d done.
So I tried in the only way I knew how. I let him torture me with his tongue, and turned my body, my will, my everything over to him.
2. PASSION AND PAIN
Rafe
Bacon sizzled in a skillet above the campfire. The smoky aroma would coax Alex out of the tent soon, and I needed to prepare myself to face her. Last night still bothered me. This wasn’t the first time I’d found her standing at the edge of the lake in the middle of the night.
I refused to overlook her nightmares another day, and the fact that she’d tried hiding them from me…I’d have to do something about that. I knew better than anyone how emotional baggage had a way of tormenting a person in their sleep.
Her nightmares weren’t meaningless. The average, well-adjusted person could explain away the occasional bad dream. But there was nothing average or well-adjusted when it came to Alex and me. There were reasons behind the shit haunting her in her sleep.
And those reasons twisted in my gut, shredding the guilt that already lived there, dueling with the anger over her secrecy. She would disagree with me, but her nightmares were my business because I’d fucked up too many times to count, leaving her damaged and insecure.
She didn’t trust my love for her.
We’d gotten nowhere out here in the middle of the woods. After drifting from place to place for months, always on the move, paranoid of someone coming after us, we’d needed to find some fucking downtime.
But seclusion wouldn’t fix what was broken. Enough time had passed to be sure no one was gunning for us. Zach had disappeared into thin air, not a whisper of his existence making its way through the underground circles Jax knew of.
And Shelton had found a new fighter to build his illegal fight ring around, so I didn’t think I was important enough for him to worry about anymore.
There was no reason to remain in hiding. The world waited, maybe not with open arms, but with grudging acceptance. Last time I talked to my brother, he told me he’d hired a lawyer to get my exoneration rolling. And the cabin on the island was a few weeks from completion.
