by Renee Rocco
I wither under his scrutiny.
“You’re fucking beautiful.”
My eyes pop open, and there it is. Hunger as Wraith stares down at me. Not disgust or forced enthusiasm. Not rejection. And not because of our shared imperfection.
It’s as if Wraith sees past my scars to the person beneath them. And when he kisses a path down my abdomen, shame and self-loathing finally die inside my heart.
At least for tonight.
Wraith pulls breathy moans from me as he slides in one finger, stretching me. A thousand sparks of light explode behind my eyes. His mouth is hot, his tongue working my clit as he glides a second finger in me. I bury my hands in his hair and turn my head to the pillow and smother my cries as my body shatters under his touch.
I roll my hips as a delicious pressure builds in my womb. I’m so wet, his fingers slips in and out slick and smooth as I ride his thrusts. He’s ruthless with his tongue, teasing me. Flicks at my clit, then licks harder. He alternates the pressure until we catch a rhythm, and I flow with it as my wall of stone and steel crumbles all around me. Until I’m left standing in the rubble, grasping at air.
He curls his fingers inside me and rubs against my G-spot, and my muscles stiffen almost to the point of pain. I can’t breathe. Air is trapped in my lungs as electricity skids along my nerves. When tiny aftershocks rush through me, Wraith tugs off his pants. He kicks them aside, but when he moves to climb back on the bed, I shoot to the edge of the mattress to stop him.
“No,” I practically shout.
His brows slam together. “No?”
Okay, even naked and with a raging hard-on, Wraith is intimating as all get-out. “Not no no. I want to… The whole thing. The full experience.”
I’m mucking this up.
He scrubs a hand over his face. “You’re driving me crazy, Jamie.”
I heave out a loud sigh. “I want to return the favor.”
His brows shoot up, and his expression softens. “You want to suck my dick.”
“Absolutely,” I say with a huge grin.
It’s easy to talk tough outside of an intimate situation. But I’m suddenly tongue-tied and unsure. The person I was before tonight is a stranger. Not even the same species. And I realize it’s because my guard is down and who I am in this moment is the me behind the wall. Not the person pretending to be me, but the shy woman living in the shadow of the resilient survivor.
Wraith shakes his head. “Can’t be timid. Not the way we’re going to do it. You need to get right with that fact.”
Oh God.
Wraith takes my hand and stands me up. Then… Waits. I tuck my hair behind my ears and, awkward as hell, drop to my knees. I’m going to be awful at it, but hey, practice makes perfect, and every woman starts somewhere. Right?
Face-to-penis with Wraith is a hell of a thing. Every part of him is massive, and I won’t lie, his dick is as formidable as the rest of him. But it’s also fascinating because as much as he says I’m his, he’s also mine. And with that revelation comes an exhilarating bit of power over a man who prides himself on never giving up authority over himself. Especially, I’m sure, after everything he’s been through. But right now, he’s giving himself to me, and I intend to find out exactly what gives this man pleasure.
Curiosity overrides apprehension. I stoke his penis, marveling at its width and length. At how the skin is velvet over stone. I listen to the subtle changes to his breathing when I run my tongue up the shaft and around the head. And when I draw the tip in my mouth, his groans are the fuel on a fire, empowering me to tease him as he teased me. To suck him harder, then whisper my lips up the length. Toy with him until he’s grunting my name and tugging fistfuls of my hair. But I don’t let him control my movements. This is my time to play. To try different things that make him breathe faster, moan louder…
…until Wraith grabs me under my arms and tosses me on the mattress.
“Enough, unless you want me coming in your mouth,” he growls. Um, no. Another time, sure, but not tonight, thank you very much. He nods toward the headboard. “Move up.”
I back-crawl up the bed, every part of me aching for every part of him. A predator, he follows, and settles on top of me. And, oh God, he feels so perfect. I graze my nails down his back, over thick cords of muscle and fresh scars, to the firm cheeks of his ass.
He notices the grin I can’t hide. “What’s with the smile?”
I squeeze his ass. “You have a nice butt.”
“Thanks. Squats. You got nice everything.” He grinds himself against me, a wicked gleam in his dangerously dark eyes. “I’m going to light you up.”
I arch against him. “You already made me feel good.”
“Nah, Runt. That was the warmup. This here’s the workout.” Wraith positions himself between my legs. I squeeze my eyes closed and stiffen beneath him. “Open your eyes. I want you to see who’s fucking you.”
Wraith probes me with his tip, and stupid me expected it to feel the same as his finger. It does not. It’s wider. Smoother. He stretches me. Pushes deeper. An inch at a time, restraint a high cost to a man who takes what he wants. But here he is, holding back for my benefit. Sweating. His brows are pinched. Veins bulging and pumping in his neck. His jaw is set, and with each gentle surge forward, he rasps out a breath between clenched teeth.
He looks like the strain is going to kill him. Might as well help him out and put him out of his misery.
He lets out a low groan when I roll my hips. “Oh fuck, Jamie. Don’t do that.”
“Did I hurt you?”
“I’m trying not to hurt you,” he grinds out. “Do that again, and I’m gonna lose it.”
Apparently, I’m not good at following sound advice. I thrust upward.
He nips my neck. “You were warned.”
Yes, I certainly was.
Wraith braces himself with one hand. The other hooks around my knee to pin my leg against his side. He drives forward, his width stretching me. His long length fills me. There’s some pain but nothing terrible. It’s the extreme fullness that’s uncomfortable as my body expands to accommodate his size.
“You okay?”
I give him a thumbs-up. “Yep.”
He rolls his eyes. “Thumbs-up? Really?”
“Bad etiquette?”
“Not when you do it.” He kisses the tip of my nose.
“Are we almost done?”
He barks out a laugh, and his penis jumps inside me. “No, we’re not almost done, you little shit.”
“Good.” I press my forehead against his shoulder and talk into his chest. “Some men finish fast.”
“I don’t.”
Of course he doesn’t. And he proves just how good he is at making my body sing when he withdraws until just the tip of him stays in me. Then he sends a shock wave to every cell in my body by driving in so deep, I swear to God, I feel him in every part of me. He pumps his hips, and I dig my nails into his shoulders to keep from floating out to a whole other universe.
“That felt nice,” I say on a breathless moan.
“Damn right, it did.”
He rocks into me, slow and steady, the friction building a slow pressure in my sex. Imprinting the size and shape of him in my body. But he’s holding back. I can sense it because I know Wraith.
I pull him deeper into me. “I want all of you.”
He slides back into me. “No, you don’t.”
Unafraid, I sink my nails in him. “Yes, I do.”
“I’ll hurt you.”
“Wraith,” I say his name on a sigh. “I’m not afraid of pain.”
He studies my face, and from one heartbeat to the next, there’s a change in him. His control snaps, and his eyes take on a feral edge. A thrill slithers up my spine when he reaches under me to wrap an arm around my waist. I lift my hips to meet his thrusts as his teeth graze my throat. He nips at me again, his ragged breathing near my ear. It’s a test I pass because I answer with a low moan that brings his teeth down with more f
orce.
I choke out a groan as pain and pleasure twist together, exploding between my legs. Pressure builds, taking me higher the harder Wraith bites. The deeper and rougher his strokes push into me. My muscles strain, clenching around his shaft, squeezing him, as he dominates my body with his punishing strokes. And when he cages my wrist and guides my hand to his neck, I curl my fingers around his throat.
He snarls down at me, sexy as all hell. “Harder.”
I squeeze tighter.
Wraith releases my wrist and uses both hands to brace himself on the mattress. “Fucking harder.”
The tighter I squeeze, the more brutal his thrusts. His is growl a vibration that resonates through me as he proves precisely why sex with him is worth the hype.
Can’t say I’m thrilled that Wraith has a history of man-whoreness, but I won’t cry about it when his experience benefits me. Especially not when he rubs that spot that has my legs shaking and me rasping out his name like he’s my own personal god.
On instinct, my hand closes even tighter on his throat when my orgasm hits. We melt into each other’s DNA as it flows through me in a hot electric wave, and as it ebbs, Wraith stiffens and drops his forehead to mine. His muscles lock, and his hips jerk against mine. He floods me, filling me with himself before the tension eases out of him.
I release his throat to trail my fingers up and down his sweaty back. His breathing stays erratic as he lies on top of me. He’s crazy heavy, but I’d rather get crushed to death by his weight than have him move. I mean, there are worse ways to go than suffocation by Wraith Shaw while listening to White Zombie’s “More Human Than Human” drifting in from Sanctum’s main room. But all good things must end, and he eventually rolls off me, taking his warmth with him.
I sit up and cover myself with the sheet and do my best to tame my tangled hair. “Was it okay for you?”
Wraith lifts a brow. “No, it wasn’t okay.”
Well, now, that’s a knife to my fragile self-esteem. I shrug to hide my bruised ego. “I gave it my best shot.”
Wraith grunts out a laugh, looking arrogantly pleased with himself. He’s also a glorious sight naked, lying there without a bashful bone in his gorgeous body. “You’re an ass. Okay sex is what everyone else is having. Fucking amazing is the sex we had.”
I give him a droll stare. “Liar.”
“I don’t lie to you.” He runs his tongue along his bottom lip as if he’s still savoring the taste of me. “Now, you’re going to tell me why you were a virgin.”
“It’s not rocket science.” I shrug because it truly is simple. “My father messed me up in the head for a long time, and the situation never felt right. And then I married David.” Truth bomb time. Secret number one. But not my secret. David’s. A secret I’m so used to keeping, the words are like tar dripping off my tongue. “He can’t have sex.”
Wraith sits up and flips the sheet over himself. “What?”
“I don’t know the details, only that he was raped when was a child. The boys who did it maimed him. I never saw the damage, but whatever they did, left him unable to…perform. That’s why he built Gomorrah. That’s the whole point of the Coliseum and the arena and the torture room. He’s so twisted with hate that he needs to put that pain on everyone else.” I fidget with the sheet, the burden of keeping David’s secret easing off my shoulders. “I doubt anyone but me knows he’s impotent. He married me because I was safe. I wasn’t part of his social circle. I had no connections to Marion County’s gossip mill. He plucked me off the street. Cleaned me up. Threatened me with all sorts of torture if I told anyone his secret. And then that crazy bastard had the audacity to demand a fresh start right before we escaped.” I shake my head, amazed by his level of insanity. “He truly is deranged.”
Wraith grabs my hand, our fingers entertaining. “It’s over, Jamie.”
“Yes, it is.” I give him a radiant smile. “I can honestly say I’m happy, Wraith, for the first time in my life, and it feels so strange.”
“You should be happy. You earned the right.” The intense way he’s watching me releases a wonderful flutter in the pit of my stomach. “But you could have had anyone. Why me?”
I stroke his face, my gaze settling on the tiny, faded dots around his mouth. “The truth?”
“Always.”
I hide a cringe, my secret burning a hole in my tongue. “It always had to be you, Wraith.”
He pulls me over to him, and I fall across his chest. The man is solid, and when he touches me, I melt into him. I’ve seen the damage his hands can do. But when he touches me, he is achingly tender. Or rough to the point of thrilling. Never, though, am I afraid because I know—I know—Eric ‘Wraith’ Shaw will never hurt me.
Never.
Not even when I tell him what I’ve done.
No, Wraith won’t physically hurt me.
It’s my soul he’ll rip to shreds.
And long after it’s dead, I’ll stay very much alive to watch the world go on living all around me. Because for better or worse, I’m staying in Mayhem, and that means I’ll have a front-row seat to the rest of Wraith’s life.
20
Jamie
“Wake up, Runt. You’re taking me on a tour.”
Someone’s chipper in the morning, and it’s not me. I crack open an eye and flip the blanket off of my face. Bad idea. I groan against the harsh intrusion of sunlight flooding Wraith’s bedroom. Who would have thought sex induced such a blissful, dreamless slumber? God, I’ve never slept as peacefully as I did last night. It helped that Wraith was wrapped around me like a second skin, but that’s how it’s been every night since we’ve been in Mayhem.
Not even last night’s Walk of Shame through Sanctum diminished the after-sex euphoria.
I stretch and yawn, not bothering with my customary clothing yank to keep everything in place. No need. Wraith stripped me bare and laid me out raw. Broke down every defense and saw my ugliest ugly. Then he built me up again. Made me feel more beautiful than I ever have in all twenty-four of my years of life.
Now how about that?
Incredible.
I sit up and find him dressed and ready to go in faded jeans and a gray hoodie. “Tour of what?”
“Mayhem,” he says simply.
Okay, I think I misheard him. “Excuse me?”
He rips away the blanket. Grabs my hands. Hauls my sleepy self out of bed. “You’re taking me on a tour of Mayhem.”
“There isn’t a square inch of cement in this town you don’t know, Wraith.”
He pulls me in for a hug. God, he’s so warm and hard and wonderfully strong. “I know my Mayhem. You’re going to show me your Mayhem.”
I frown and push away from him. “My Mayhem?”
He rolls his eyes. “Would you go shower and get dressed?”
“Fine, I’m going.” When I turn to walk to the bathroom, he gives my ass a playful slap. “So that’s how it’s going to be, Unholy?”
He nods, slow and lazy. “Yeah, Runt, that’s exactly how it’s going to be.”
I roll my lips between my teeth, raise my brow, and nod as I stroll away. “Okay. Okay. I see how it is. Remember, I’m not afraid to meet a challenge.”
His gaze sears my back. “So I’ve learned.”
I brace myself on the frame of the bathroom door and throw him a glare over my shoulder. “You shouldn’t have acted like an asshole last night.”
I expect a sarcastic answer. Instead, Wraith shocks the hell out of me. “No, I shouldn’t have.”
My smile, I’m sure, can be seen from space. “Thank you for your apology.”
“You’re fucking welcome. Now take a goddamn shower because you stink of my crusty cum.”
“You’re a dick,” I snap, but I’m laughing.
“But I’m your dick.”
Those four words rob me of the ability to draw my next breath. All I can do is close the door and marvel at how different my life is in such a short span of time.
I walk to t
he sink to stare at the stranger in the mirror. This cheerful person I’ve never met. A woman with a spark in her eyes. Someone with a lingering smile on lips swollen from rough kisses rather than angry fists. I wonder what will become of this happy creature with flushed cheeks once Wraith learns the truth.
But that’s a worry for another day.
Today, apparently, I have to take Wraith on a tour of a town he knows like the back of his hand. This should be interesting, for him at least. For me, it’s going to be brutal.
I step in the shower and wash away the remnants of last night, the hot water fantastic on my aching muscles. I’m sore between my legs after two wild rides that by no means gently introduced me to sex.
As I lather my body, I still feel Wraith’s hands on me. His mouth and tongue teasing me, and I already crave his touch on fevered flesh. But first, I have to eat, because after burning about a zillion calories, I’m starving, and the delicious aroma of bacon wafting up from the kitchen has my stomach growling.
Once I’m done in the bathroom, I ditch my usual drab attire and go for one of my new outfits. The black jeans fit like a glove and the pink sweater hits me at the waist. I pull on black boots that ride up my calves. Ava picked them, and I hadn’t planned to wear them. But, why not? Everyone is right. I’m twenty-four. Not ninety-four. I have no reason to blend into the background anymore. Here, I don’t have to live in survival mode. In fact, I grab the few dresses I brought from Gomorrah and bring them with me when I make my way to the kitchen.
Wraith, who’s at the stove, raises a brow when he sees the armful of ugly earth-toned clothing. Jester’s at the table, and humiliation slaps me full in the face after what happened between us.
God, I can barely look at him.
“Morning, James,” he croaks. The man is obviously suffering from a monster hangover.
“Morning,” I mutter.
Wraith points at my bundle with the thongs. “What’s up with that?”
I open the trash can and dump the dresses, smashing them down. “I’m throwing out what’s left of my old life.”
Wraith winks at me. “Smart girl.”
