Chapter Nine
Romy
N onononononono…
Gareth holds me down and takes, takes, takes.
The scream is lodged in my throat, but I choke on it. Bile burns my tongue and I gag. It’s then the intrusion stops and the horrifyingly huge thickness is pulled out of me.
Caius?
Did he come to save me?
I’m forcefully rolled onto my back. Tears blur the man before me. I swipe at him with my fingernails. Though dull and filed short, I manage to poke him in the ear, earning a grunt of pain. Then he grabs hold of both hands, pinning them to the bed.
“Look at me, love.” A growl. “Dammit, fucking look at me.”
I blink, sending tears racing down my temples, and fixate on his eyes. Dark. Furious. Concerned. Caius?
His face is shiny around his mouth. There’s a wildness in his eyes I’ve never seen before. Somehow, it comforts me like never before. The terror that’d been clawing at me is now gone. All I want is his touch and comfort.
“Gareth?” I choke out, jerking my gaze past him.
“Dead. He’s dead, remember?”
The memories come flooding back. Caius killed him for me. I’m not on the yacht. I’m in a hotel in New York, safe with Caius.
“Oh,” I croak, more tears filling my eyes. “I’m so stupid.”
He snorts out something that sounds like disagreement. Then he hooks an arm beneath me, pulling both of us farther up the bed. His cock, sandwiched between us, throbs angrily. I almost giggle at the absurdity of our situation.
I said no and he stopped.
Though I’m overcome with emotion, I ache for his connection. Will it happen again if I tell him to continue? He pulls away from me completely and stands beside the bed. For some reason, this makes the air feel colder. The loneliness that washes over me is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I reach a hand for him, fighting more tears.
“Don’t go,” I whisper. “Please.”
He scowls but doesn’t retreat when I crawl over to him. I meet his hard stare as I unbutton his shirt. His eyelids flutter when I place my palms under his shirt and push it over his shoulders. Then I tear off his under shirt. He grunts, stepping out of his pants, boxers, and shoes before tangling both his hands in my wet hair.
“Romy.”
“I want it,” I rush out, voice wobbly. “I want you.”
His forehead drops to mine and he closes his eyes. I use the moment to reach down between us. He hisses when my hand wraps around his impressive cock. It’s sticky and damp from when he was inside me.
“Can we kiss while we do it?” I whisper. “To keep me here with you?”
He groans and nods, mouth seeking mine. Though his eyes remain closed, I stare at him as we kiss deeply. The taste of myself on his lips is strange, but I don’t hate it. When he pushes me onto the bed, his heavy body covering mine, fear doesn’t ripple through me.
Desire is the victor.
I spread my legs, eagerly needing him inside me. This time, it’s me who guides him into my body. The stretch burns, but I welcome it. Being filled with this man, knowing he somehow cares about me, is the closest I’ve ever felt toward another human being. It’s like he has access to my soul and I’ve willingly gifted him with it.
“You’re not on the pill,” Caius rumbles, slowly thrusting into me.
Of course he knows all about me. It’s a breach of trust, but that was before. Before he knew knew me.
“No.”
“I’ll pull out,” he rasps, then moans with pleasure. “You’re fucking me up, love.”
I smile against his lips. Knowing I am screwing with his mind every bit as much as he has jacked with mine is gratifying. Threading my fingers into his hair, I pull him for a deeper kiss.
So this is how sex is supposed to be.
I’ve watched enough of it on television to understand and clearly had the physical part of it with Gareth, but nothing prepared me for this. The emotional, soul-binding part of it. With each deep thrust into me and every nip of his teeth on my lips, I fall hard and fast with him. This might just be a fun time for him, but it’s something much more for me.
It’s healing.
It’s fun.
It feels good.
But mostly, it’s security. I’m being treasured by a man who appears to care about nothing. I’m being kissed and pleasured and loved by a man who rarely shows emotion. It’s a wondrous glimpse behind his icy exterior.
There’s warmth inside and he’s letting me in.
His body is slick with sweat as he roughly drives into me. The desperation in his movements makes me feel powerful. How does a college girl like me take apart a poised man like Caius Crowne? I want to do it over and over again. To get lost in time with him. It’s freeing.
“You’re going to come again,” he growls against my lips.
I want to, but I’m not feeling the same sort of pleasure as before. This is purely emotional. But then he pulls away, dragging me with him until he’s standing on the edge of the bed with my ass hanging off. He grips my hips and tilts them up. When he thrusts this time, he hits the good place inside of me that makes me see stars.
“Oh!” I cry out, grasping at the blankets beneath me. “Oh God!”
My insides burn because of his enthusiastic thrusts, but the pleasure coiling deep inside me quickly snuffs it out. I have this desire to touch myself because he’s too far away. I need more, more, more. I settle for my breasts, imitating how he pinched the nipples before. This adds a new level ofbliss.
I know he’s getting close to coming because his thrusts become uneven and his breaths ragged. But I’m not there yet. Digging my heels into him, I beg for him not to stop. He grunts, freezes, and then I feel him throbbing inside me. It’s enough to send me over the edge.
As I cry out with my orgasm, he jerks out of me and then slides his cock between the lips of my pussy. I’m shuddering all over but become fixated on how his cum jets out, soaking my lower belly. Unable to stop myself, I run my fingers through the thick, hot release and spread it up my body. His cock continues to jolt and spasm as my orgasm frees me from its clutches. Lazily, I tease my sensitive nipples with his cum on my fingers.
The unmasked look of pure bliss on his face is one I’d like to freeze to remember later. As quickly as it’s come, the shutters come down, transforming his features into one of boredom.
It’s a lie.
He steps back, his dripping cock flinging cum on my thighs, and grabs my discarded towel. I watch as he cleans himself up, my legs spread crudely. I flinch when he tosses the towel at me, covering my most intimate area.
“Clean up,” he instructs, not looking at me. “We have things to do today.”
I’m confused at the sudden change in him. We were both enjoying it. We both came. I don’t understand the problem.
“What’s wrong?” I demand, sitting up, wincing slightly at the soreness. It’s a good kind of soreness, not like what I had after Gareth.
He continues to look elsewhere as he redresses. I swipe up the sticky mess on my stomach, feeling oily and gross and used. Moments ago, we shared something real. Now it’s as if I imagined it all.
Your mind is an unreliable narrator…
Prickly tears burn my eyes, but it dissolves to anger. How dare he treat me this way? I stand on shaky legs, letting the towel drop to the floor. My clothes from earlier remain discarded by the suitcase. Something hot trickles out of me.
He pulled out.
Late.
He pulled out late .
Is that why he’s mad?
I’ve barely managed to pull on my panties when he’s slipping out the door. As soon as the door to the suite slams shut, I know he’s gone. I fall to my knees and finally release the hurt, sobbing until there are no tears left to come.
Theo and Kaitlyn babble about their day, while Orion and Caius speak in hushed tones up front. I’ve chosen to sit in the third row of our rented SUV, eager to be as far away from Caius as possible.
How can he act as though nothing happened between us?
I have the evidence on my body. I noticed the hickey the size of Alaska when I’d gone in for a second shower, happy to wash the reminder of him off me. Even with makeup, the bruising remains. I know this because it’s the first thing Theo saw when we met back up. Shame burned hot through me. He just looked sad. Defeated.
Emotion burns at my throat, but I refuse to cry any more over Caius. He’s a prick. No bones about it. I don’t know why I thought I’d somehow wrangled the real him. The real him is the him he shows every day. That other man I’d glimpsed while making love was a fantasy.
The trip back to Dad’s building is a short one. I’m dreading seeing him after the emotional scene from yesterday, but apparently, my presence is required. At least Bastian and Megan are supposed to be here tonight. I wonder if they’ll lie straight to my face.
God, I feel so stupid.
Has everyone in my life let me down?
Yes.
Well, not Eva. Her only fault is putting up with my father.
As soon as we arrive at the building, Orion and Caius hop out, not bothering to wait for the rest of us. Theo dutifully waits for me to exit the vehicle and the three of us make our way inside. Kaitlyn is understandably nervous, clinging at my side. I’m able to disassociate from my own issues to focus on her. It’s not until we’re in the elevator, just the three of us, do I catch Theo eyeballing my neck again.
Hurt, once again, shines in his green eyes, and he forces himself to look away. I bite on my bottom lip to keep from crying. Maybe Dad’s right. Maybe I do need my meds. It can’t be good for me to just randomly quit taking them.
Even just thinking about dulling my mind has me rewinding that thought. I’d rather be emotional and misread people’s moods or intentions than to float around in a cloud of pretend. Reality hurts. I need to get used to the pain.
By the time we reach Dad’s floor and make it to the door, Orion and Caius are nowhere to be found. The door flings open before Theo can knock. Eva, again, greets us with a bright smile.
“Happy birthday,” I say to her, forcing a smile in return.
I reach into my purse and pull out a small, wrapped gift that I picked up after the debacle with Caius.
Her eyes light up. We both know what it is. Every year on her birthday, I get her a charm for her bracelet. It’s kind of corny and not nearly as fancy as most of her jewelry, but I think she actually looks forward to the gift. Since my own mother bailed on me, Eva’s basically been it for me. It’s a heartfelt gift that she’s earned.
“I’m so happy you came,” Eva says, tugging me in for a hug. “Your father.” She sighs. “I’m sorry.”
We both know he’s difficult. There’s nothing either of us can do to change him.
“I’ll live,” I say with faux enthusiasm. “Tell me Rosie made the cake.”
Eva and the cake are the only thing that motivated me to come back to this hellhole.
Oh, and also because my emotionless, fake boyfriend, who acts like sex with me was something regrettable, forced me to.