Chapter 36
CHAPTER 36
BETH
M y wet hair lays on my shoulders as I sit at the brand new table Martin bought and drink from the bottle of Smirnoff Ice he gave me. The crisp flavor glides over my tongue and I hum from the deliciousness.
Martin sits beside me with the containers of food, opening them up so we can eat what we want.
“That smells so good,” I mutter before setting down my drink.
He grins before handing me one of the sets of chopsticks. “Do you know how to use these?” he asks.
“Fo shizzle.” I break the chopsticks apart before settling them in my hand.
“Show off.” He laughs before he grabs his drink, taking a long gulp from the bottle. My eyes zero in on the bulge in his throat and how it moves up and down with every single swallow. Heat flashes across the back of my neck as I pick up some noodles with the chopsticks, trying to ignore the attraction growing in my belly.
I’ve been extremely aware of how hot Martin is since before he grabbed my butt that day, but it hasn’t felt this overwhelming before. Maybe it’s just because he’s the only one I can count on right now. My mom is in rehab, Judy is biased, Oliver is a traitor, and I can’t risk Shanti opening her mouth.
I’m alone except for the man beside me.
“So,” he starts as soon as he sets down the bottle. “Tell me what happened.” He turns his gaze to me as I chew on the noodles.
“Jesus! I barely started eating.”
“And, you’re stalling,” he observes quite skillfully. “Tell me. What is the deal with you and my cousin?”
I stare at him, trying to figure out some way around this, but other than escaping to the bathroom, I see none.
So, what do I do? I grab another bunch of noodles and shove them in my mouth, lacking all sense of grace and decorum.
He rolls his eyes and does the same, ignoring me and my antics.
He was right though. These are the best tasting lo mein noodles I have ever had. Even the vegetables are cooked to perfection.
I eat until I’m stuffed and am acutely aware that the oversized shirt I’m wearing doesn’t even cover my ass when I stand up to throw away the packaging to the food. I don’t know why that makes me feel self-conscious, but it does.
“You can’t avoid it now. You can’t stuff your mouth with anything else,” Martin mutters and I laugh.
“That’s what he said.”
I turn away from the trash can and he leans over me, blocking me against the counter, a serious expression on his face. “Did he do to you what Nigel did?” he presses.
“No.” My face twists with disgust and my first reaction is to say Oliver wouldn’t do that , but I don’t know that. I didn’t think Nigel would either but he did.
“Did he put you in danger?”
I slam my lips shut because I know I can’t lie about that.
“Did he hurt you?” Martin pushes and my eyes slam shut.
“Not physically, okay? He didn’t do anything like what Nigel did,” I defend, feeling like I need to do that for him when he hasn’t earned that. He did the opposite.
“Then, what did he do? Just tell me what happened,” he begs as he runs his fingers along my jaw, much like he did yesterday when I came to him.
My eyes flutter shut from the comfort he offers and my heart does a crazy dance in my chest.
“Talk to me, little rabbit,” he whispers as he presses his forehead against mine. He touches me like I matter to him, like I’m special, and I eat it up. I absorb all the energy he gives me and he hands it over willingly as my eyes meet his. Those oceanic blue orbs draw me in and I find myself mimicking the affectionate touch, savoring the feel of his five o’clock shadow stabbing into my palm.
We have this connection and I’m nearly choking on it. I want it to suffocate me.
“I-I-I–” I stutter, trying to fight my way through the haze, as he leans in, his nose brushing against mine, his lips barely separated from mine.
“Either tell me or I’ll rip off your clothes and fuck you right here. I’ll take this sweet pussy I’ve missed so much…” With his free hand, he pries my thighs apart and trails his fingers over my panties, teasing me. “...and I’ll make you scream and beg for more like I did in the back seat of my car. I’ll get those words out of you one way or another, little rabbit. Now, are you going to give them to me or am I going to pry them from your soul?”
A loud moan falls from my lips as he pushes my panties to the side and teases my bare flesh. “Martin,” I whimper his name as he holds eye contact with me and my body begs for more than just his finger taunting my slit and coaxing my clit.
“So fucking wet and I know that’s not from the shower,” he groans as he circles my clit and I spread my thighs more for him. “You better fucking remember this in the morning.”
Normally, such a remark would make me laugh, but I’m too focused on the need pulsing in my veins.
“I’m not drunk,” I rasp as he presses a finger inside me and I curse from how good it feels. “I-I-I was cheating on Nigel…with Oliver.” His fingers freeze their movement, but I rake my fingers through his hair, moaning against his lips. “Don’t stop, please,” I beg and he nods before adding another finger. Then, he hooks the digits and I cry out from him hitting that sweet spot.
Normally, I’d ask how he knew where mine was, but I already know he’s touched me like this before, even though I have no recollection of it.
I ride his fingers as he watches my eyes, taking in every expression on my face.
“Tell me,” he demands.
My core vibrates against his hand as I open my mouth. “I knew Nigel was cheating on me so–oh fuuuck–I cheated right back with his best friend because I’m petty like that.” I gasp as he runs his thumb over my clit.
“You go right for the jugular and, I gotta say it’s hot as fuck.” He leans down and presses kisses against my throat.
“That wasn’t me doing my worst,” I mewl as my core starts to clamp down on his fingers. Fuck, I’m so close. “Oh my god.”
“Keep going,” he demands as he removes his hand from my core, lifts me up onto the counter, and yanks my panties down my legs.
I rip my shirt over my head, just ready for him to fuck me already. I’m so wound up and need the release he is taunting me with.
He grips my jaw in his hand, pulling me face to face with him before hissing, “Keep going or I’ll stop and trust me when I say this, little rabbit. I need you to ride my cock, my face…any way I can fucking get you. Tell me and I’ll spend all night fucking your tight little cunt. I’ll make you come so good you won’t be able to move tomorrow. I’ll make them regret ever hurting or upsetting you. I’ll be your revenge, your sanctuary, your fucking redemption . First, I need to know everything. Every lie, every hurt, and every betrayal. Tell me.” His commanding monologue makes me want him even more because fuck lying about not wanting everything he just vowed.
“He told his friends I was easy, then told Nigel about me and you. He betrayed my trust. He said he wouldn’t tell Nigel what he heard us talking about that day. He said he liked having me around too much to jeopardize that, but he did it anyway. Then, I left and went to your house. End of story.”
He reaches up my body and circles his thumb around my nipple, keeping me on edge even as I talk about the deception.
“Was it just sex with him?” he asks.
“No,” I admit. “Not for me at least.”
“Good girl,” he groans as he moves down my body and presses his mouth against my cunt. I throw my head back and moan loud as his tongue teases me, dragging down to my slit. I dig my fingers through his hair as he presses his fingers back inside me and focuses his tongue on my clit.
Holy shit. I thought Nigel and Oliver had skills, but this is fucking perfection.
Maybe it’s just that he got me so wound up by fingering me and brought me to the precipice before stopping.
My orgasm hits like a tsunami and a banshee-esque scream comes flying out as I arch into his mouth, feeling the growl he lets out vibrating through my clit.
This man truly knows what the fuck he is doing.
Martin stands up and pulls my body to his, feeling like he just took all the energy out of me, and I cling to him before giving him a kiss. His fingers knot in my hair as he returns the passion, waking me from the slumber his tongue-fucking would surely have put me in.
I moan as he works at his pants and not even a minute later, I feel his cock pressing into me, so deep it stings in the best way. It doesn’t hurt and isn’t enough to make me bleed, but god, he is big.
I cry out as he pulls out and thrusts back into me, running his kisses up and down my throat.
“Fuck me, Martin. I need you.”
He pulls my body tight to his as he picks up his pace, his cock digging deeper with every unyielding thrust to my desperate cunt. In a flash, he drags my face back to his and steals another kiss. I cling tight to him and let him have his fill of me, do whatever he wants to me.
* * *
I press my face against his bare chest as we lay in my new bed, the sheet clinging around our waists. It sticks to our sweaty skin, but I don’t have the energy to even entertain the idea of another shower.
Instead, we just lay down, his fingers trailing up and down my back.
He lived up to his promise. He fucked me all over the place from the kitchen counter to the couch in the living room to this bed. The passion he gave me was something I could only dream about before.
Why the hell did I have to forget the first time I had sex with him?
I trace my fingers over the yellowing remnants of bruises on his chest. Even with the lighting in my room, he can’t disguise them from me. I’m so used to seeing that color across my face. They’re old, maybe a few days or a week depending on how bad the beating was.
“Was it your father that did this?” I ask as I trace the edges of the darkest of the faded bruises.
His eyes fall down on his chest before he lays his free hand on top of mine, stopping me.
“What makes you think that?” he mutters before looking at me, the teasing facade completely gone from his expression. I’m looking at the real Martin Gray, not the show he lets everyone else see to keep them from realizing the horrors he faces behind closed doors.
“I told you my mom used to hit me, but what I didn’t say was how bad it got.” His eyes narrow as he turns to face me. Martin’s fingers caress my cheek and he gives me his full attention. “I’m pretty sure she was going to kill me the last time she did. She broke down my bedroom door to come after me. I had to escape out the window. I was certain if I didn’t leave then, I wouldn’t have walked out of that house alive.”
His eyes narrow slightly as his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. “Why are you telling me about that?” he asks, his voice strained.
“Because I saw the look in your eyes when you saw me standing next to him. I’ve seen it in the mirror looking back at me many times.” I lean into his touch and his eyes soften. “You were scared he was going to hurt me.” It’s not a question. I have no doubt about it. His hands were shaking so hard afterward and he was so freaked out. I just wanted to hold him and help him calm down.
“I don’t know about your mom, but my father is not a good person,” Martin responds, his jaw set tight, as he pushes the hair out of my face. “It’s impossible to know what will set him off.”
This is a good first step. He’s opening up to what he’s been dealing with. It’s a first for both of us. I know exactly how difficult it is. It’s hard to let anyone see the dark shit one deals with, but it being him makes it easier. He shares my torment, even though his is clearly worse than mine.
My mom isn’t a bad person. She just has a lot of demons. There are good people in the world who do a lot of bad things and vice versa. His father doesn’t have that excuse. There’s something fundamentally wrong with that man. I sensed it the second I saw him.
“What set him off this time?” I ask as I look back down at the fading bruises.
“The fact that he has no control over me, except for what I do inside his house.”
I don’t know exactly how old Martin is, but I know he’s at least a few years older than me. That begs the question.
“Why are you still living there then? You could just move out. He wouldn’t have any control over you anymore and you’d at least have a break from him.”
He runs his fingers through my hair and gives me a slightly condescending look, as if he’s not sure if I thought the question through before I said it.
Rude.
“I don’t have a choice. I have to live there. My father’s reach is something you couldn’t even imagine. If I ran, he’d find me. As for simply moving out, that requires a steady flow of cash. I only have the money he allows me to have. He’s made sure no company would ever hire me or my brother without his consent and the jobs he does allow us to have are as unpaid interns at his company. So, you see, there is no way of escaping, not until…” he trails off, an uncertainty in his eyes. He hesitates as his finger twitches in my hair.
“Until what?” I press.
I wish I could help him out of this situation. He’s being subjected to the angry whims of an evil man. At least my mom is just damaged.
“Until he decides to step down and hand the company over to me. He has said many times that a lot of things will have to happen before he does that, like I have to be married to someone he has given his stamp of approval on and show that I’m not just a massive disappointment to the Gray family name.”
Marry someone his father approves of?
Like me.
His father wouldn’t have mentioned the betrothal agreement with my mother if he didn’t want me to be aware of it. So, that begs the question: if marrying someone his father approves of is one of the steps to get what he wants, why would he offer to nip it in the bud?
He said he would make sure his father wouldn’t pursue it.
Is my safety that high on his list of priorities?
My heart flips and slams against my ribs as I make my way through the details I’ve collected.
“If I were you, I’d do whatever he wants to get out of there as quickly as possible,” I admit, wondering if he shares the same idea.
He shrugs. “Some things are more important.”
That’s the confirmation I needed. Martin Gray isn’t some entitled rich boy with an inflated ego like I originally thought. Even while being brought up in a house full of evil, he won’t go against his morals for the end goal he wants. He could have easily said something like “Too bad. You’re stuck with me. Get used to it” but he offered to put an end to this forced engagement because he knew I didn’t want to be forced.
However, the thought of being pushed into marrying this man seems less and less scary as the minutes tick by. Even if Martin can’t manage to dissolve this agreement between my mother and his father, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be tied to him.
Love hasn’t exactly been my friend as of late. Maybe an understanding of respect and care would be enough.
Maybe. Just maybe.