Chapter Eight
Tyson
Fuck .
She was literarily in palm of my hand.
Everything I so desperately wanted for months right there before me, but I couldn’t go through with it.
Not if she did it out of pity.
Rolling out of bed, I crack my neck after spending the night staring at the wooden ceiling.
Not that I would have been able to sleep either way. I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing the image of her plaint body underneath me, her soft hands on my skin, her lips against mine.
So willing, so easy to break.
I’ve made myself come more times than I’d be willing to admit yet it has barely taken the edge off.
When she looked at me with those big, green eyes…
The self-restraint it took not to pounce on her then and there, it tore me up inside.
Turning the water in the shower to freezing cold, I try getting my head straight, but I might as well start banging it against the tiles for what good it’s doing to me.
With my skin still damp, I shrug on a fitted shirt and tactical pants. Wearing all black simplifies things, making it easier for me to blend into the night and most importantly, it tells people to fuck off.
When I finally make my way downstair, planning to make breakfast before Malory wakes up with the hope of shifting things back to how they were before I royally fucked up last night, there she is, curled up in a ball on the couch.
She must have fallen asleep here after I left.
I’m a fucking asshole.
I mean it’s better that I didn’t maul her like a feral animal, that’s not what she needs from me right now.
But still, I shouldn’t have left like I did.
Her silky, chestnut hair is splayed over the cushion, partially covering her dainty face.
Leaning over the back rest, I lightly brush back the messy waves, careful not to disturb her sleep to reveal her peaceful expression.
All tension has escaped from her soft features, her pouty lips parted as she draws in steady, shallow breaths.
Pure and innocent.
And yet all I want to do is tarnish her, make her irrevocably mine.
Stripping her of her past, of anything that doesn’t belong solely to me.
I want her life to begin and end with me.
Not yet though.
She isn’t ready to face the extent of my obsession, the gravity of the things I’ve kept hidden from her.
With every passing day that I witness her getting more and more comfortable around me, I fight the urge to tell her everything . To claim her fully, thoroughly.
I see the way she looks at me, the way she’s staring at my shirtless form whenever she thinks I’m not watching. But I always am.
And yeah, I do make a point of stripping in front of her, wanting to see her squirm, to see her porcelain skin blush prettily just for me.
Malory wants my body as much as I want hers, last night solidified that.
Though that’s not the only thing I want.
I don’t just lust for her body, but her mind. Until she isn’t ready to admit her darkest desires to herself, that means only one thing.
I’ll have to take fate into my own hands and I won’t stop until she’s yearning for every fucked-up part of me, craving every depraved, broken piece.
Stepping back before the temptation of her unconscious beauty gets unbearable, I burst out the door to take my frustration out on some logs.
For the past few days, I’ve been chopping wood to the point of exhaustion to curb my urges.
Having Malory here but not being able to touch her properly is driving me insane.
Those small, lingering touches that I deliberately steal from her aren’t nearly enough.
But I’ve been careful to take things slow. Getting her used to me since I’m well aware that I’m a far cry from the men she used to know.
For the last two years, she’s always been there.
Yet never close enough.
Now that I have her, the need to press her body into mine, to hold onto her for dear life is overpowering.
Once I’ve gotten a taste, nothing will be able to hold me back. Malory is my addiction, my ultimate undoing.
At the rate I’m chopping, there’ll be enough wood to last us for years to come.
Even I’m sensible enough to admit that this is getting out of hand.
As I walk back inside covered in sweat and in dire need of another shower, I find Malory seated at the kitchen island, sipping her green tea.
She always wears those tight, black leggings that make her perky ass look irresistible, perfect for me to hold onto while she’ll be bouncing on my cock.
Her oversized zip-up hoodie is open, revealing a white cami that betrays the outline of her hard nipples in the cold, morning air. She’s not wearing a bra, not that my princess needs to. Fuck me.
With her gaze firmly fixed on the mug, Malory doesn’t see me adjusting myself as I walk past her, opening the fridge.
“Can I get you something?”
“I’m good.” Her voice is flat, keeping her head bowed.
Stepping awkwardly around me, she puts the mug into the sink, probably wanting to bolt out of here as soon as possible and pretend that last night never happened.
Not going to happen.
“I’m sorry, little one.” I cage her in against the counter, her small body turning deathly still at feeling my hard chest against her back.
“Why?” It’s barely a whisper.
“I didn’t make you breakfast.” I clarify, pressing my forehead into the back of her head, breathing her in.
I’ve been in such a rush to get out, to reign in the all-consuming sensation that grips my body whenever she’s near, that it slipped my mind.
Now I’ve managed to fuck up twice within a few short hours. Something that has never happened before but I’m starting to learn that being around Malory, my control is slipping between my fingers like sand.
“It won’t happen again.” And I don’t just mean the food.
“I can make my own breakfast.” She ducks underneath my arm and this time I don’t stop her.
Lately, Malory has been coming out of her shell. Smiling at her books, cooking, even laughing with Nero.
That little fucker has been stealing too much of her attention for my liking.
Since he was a puppy, I trained him to be a guard dog, my partner. He’s fiercely loyal, so naturally I didn’t expect him to trust someone new easily, but their bond was instant.
Another being completely obsessed with her.
Great, now I’m competing with my own damn dog.
As much as I hate the idea, Malory needs space right now.
We’ve been together incessantly and even though I wouldn’t have it any other way, I don’t want to overwhelm her, drive her into pulling away from me.
That won’t be happening, over my dead body.
“I’m going to head to the store today.” That stops her in her tracks. “Will you be alright?”
Immediately, I regret the idea of leaving her for just a few hours but it’s too late to back down now.
“Yeah, I guess you’re not going to take me with you?” She asks quietly, not meeting my gaze.
“Not this time.”
Her head shoots up.
“Wait, are you telling me that it’s a possibility?”
“Sure, I won’t be holding you here forever.” I grind my teeth, because that’s exactly what I’d prefer but apparently, I’m drawing a line at risking her mental health and her happiness. That’s a novelty.
A change of scenery is going to be necessary if I don’t want Malory to eventually hate me. Even someone as solitary as her would go crazy being cooped up here for the rest of her life.
“Really?” Her eyebrows almost hit her hairline as she sucks in a shaky breath.
“Yeah. But first, I need to trust that you won’t run away. It’ll also have to wait until your parents stop searching for you.”
“They’re looking for me?”
I narrow my eyes at the little sliver of hope in her tone. I’m not about to admit that it bothers me because no matter what Malory hopes for, she’ll never be found.
“They’re doing it discreetly since you haven’t been reported as a missing person yet. Wouldn’t want anything to tarnish your father’s immaculate reputation.”
Her face falls at my words because she knows it’s the truth.
“It’s for the best if your picture isn’t plastered all over the media. That way you’ll remain anonymous and we can go out in public sooner rather than later.”
Malory just nods, turning her back to me as she leaves.
The trees pass around me in a blur of greenery as I speed down the rural road, regretting whatever idiotic notion compelled me to leave her.
I’ve managed to cut the three-hour drive to San Francisco in half and since I change license plates as often as I do shirts, the speed limit is of no consequence to me.
I could have stopped in the nearest small town or even at a fucking gas station, but no. I just had to use this opportunity to tie up some loose ends in the city in case John comes sniffing where he shouldn’t.
The one time I didn’t delegate the clean-up to my brother’s men.
What I didn’t realize though is how much I need Malory’s constant presence until I was gone.
It’s downright impossible to take a full breath, my lungs seizing up when I can’t see her, when I can’t touch her, consumed by the urge to make sure she’s alright.
This is the first time I left Malory by herself since making her mine. Without protection, without a means of contacting me.
What if she tries to leave me? Or worse, what if something happened to her? She’s not the most coordinated person out there.
The steering wheel groans under the force of my crushing grip.
Time and time again have I emphasized how dangerous the woods can be if she takes off on her own. I’m a good tracker but that’s not a risk I’m willing to take.
Pushing the gas pedal to the floor, I ignore the protesting engine as the burning sensation in my chest intensifies.
Fuck, I should have thought this through.
Since when do I make rash decisions? The only reason I’m still alive is because of my inability to act on emotions.
I’ve killed that part of myself a long time ago. That’s what kept me sane all these years.
Cold and calculated, that’s who I am. And nothing can change that.
Until I started fucking things up since last night apparently.
When it comes to this girl, it’s like the ability to act rationally has been stripped away from me, torn to damn shreds.
Finally, the car comes to a screeching halt, and I’m already halfway to the cabin without a second thought about turning off the engine, storming into the living area with a wild expression.
If Malory sees me in this state, she’ll probably jump out of her skin but at this point, I’m past caring about anything other than having her in my arms. Right the fuck now.
My footsteps halt abruptly.
She’s not in her usual spot on the couch.
It’s the afternoon, she’s always in here with a book in hand and her feet tucked under the plaid blanket.
My throat tightens as if something is suddenly choking me.
This doesn’t have to mean anything, she’s probably in her room and I’m making a fool of myself down here.
Taking two steps at a time, I throw open her bedroom door with such force it bangs against the adjoining wall, rattling at the hinges.
Malory’s bed is made. The creamy sheets folded in half, her pillows fluffed.
Without a trace of her presence.
I turn deathly still, suppressing the visceral bodily reaction that threatens to take over, forcing myself to listen to my surroundings.
There’s nothing.
No sound of running water in the bathroom.
No sound at all.
“Malory!” I roar, barely hearing myself over the rapid beat of my heart.
No answer.
I yell her name over and over until my throat is hoarse, tearing through every room like my life depends on it.
Nothing.
She’s neither in the green house, nor in the garage she never enters, nowhere on this fucking property.
Cold sweat runs down my forehead as I stand at the edge of the tree line, pacing in an endless circle like a madman.
I can’t lose her.
I won’t let that happen.
What began as mere revenge has turned into something all-consuming. Every cell of my body fucking longs for her, and I won’t rest until I make every last piece of her mine. All fucking mine.
I’ve always been careful not to let anyone in, yet this tiny being has shattered that resolve to dust.
There’s no getting away from me now.
Squaring my shoulders, I narrow my eyes with renewed determination.
Malory’s intelligent, she wouldn’t just run into the wilderness blindly.
Only one road leads to the cabin which I took driving up here and she wasn’t on it.
How fast could she have hidden upon hearing the car coming? Not fast enough.
There is one other trail though...
Rounding the clearing, I call her name one last time at the top of my lungs, sending the birds from a nearby pine flying.
“ Over here! ”
Unsure whether I imagined Malory’s soft voice or I’m starting to lose it, I scream her name again.
“ I’m down here! ”
It’s distant but it’s there. I hang onto it like it’s my only lifeline, like I may die without hearing it again.
Turning towards the creek, I break into a sprint. Low branches hitting my face as I barrel through the thick wood.
I don’t feel them, wholly absorbed in reaching the source of the sweetest sound. I ignore my burning muscles, my blood pumping hard through my veins.
Just as I go to roar her name once more, I see it.
Malory’s slim figure coming into view in the distance, and for a moment I stop, making sure it’s truly her I’m seeing.
Fuck. An unbearable weight falls from my shoulders.
She’s safe.
All mine right where she’s supposed to be, ankle deep in water, giggling as Nero splashes around her.
In my haste, I didn’t even realize that the dog was missing as well.
Her soft laugh reverberates through my chest as a sensation I can’t quite place settles over me.
She’s been here all along.
Yearning to cross the distance between us, I step into the shallow stream, not caring about my boots getting wet.
Malory’s laughter stops abruptly, her head snapping in the direction of my figure wading through the water.
Her eyes bulging at my fast approach, or whatever she sees playing out on my face as I sweep her up in my arms.
Lifting her off her feet, I hug her tiny body tightly to my chest, squeezing the life out of her. She feels so fucking good in my embrace, like she has always belonged there.
Her arms snake hesitantly around my neck and my insides twist, my heart clenching at feeling her hugging me back.
Reaching around, I hoist her up, wrapping her legs around my waist, her ankles locking at my lower back.
Malory tucks her head in the crook of my neck and I hold it there, burying my fingers into the silky mass of her hair.
Taking deep breaths, I nuzzle into her, getting my fill of her soft, vanilla scent mixed with something that’s uniquely her.
So fucking sweet.
“You’re here.” I rasp, more to convince myself than anything else.
“I’m here.” She murmurs into my neck, her fingers stroking gently along my nape and I realize that I’ve been shaking.
Using her as an anchor, I close my eyes, taking in her warmth wrapped all around me.
She’s everywhere and I wouldn’t have in any other way.
Her pliant, petite body molding perfectly against mine.
Exchanging one frenzy for another, my hold tightens as I back her up against the nearest tree, cupping the back of her head to shield her from the impact.
Malory gasps as I cover her body with mine, trapping her between the trunk and myself.
There’s no escaping me now.
Scraping my teeth against her neck, her breath hitches, letting me feel the flutter in her pulse. Her taste overwhelming my senses as I sink my teeth into the sensitive flesh, marking her porcelain skin. Hard.
Claiming her as mine. My fucking possession.
With a cry, Malory fists my hair, her dainty fingers sinking into the short strands, making me groan. But she doesn’t pull me away.
No, she forces my head closer.
Soothing the bite with my tongue, I kiss my way up her neck, sucking her skin into my mouth, leaving a trail of hickeys in my wake as her nails sink into my shoulder.
I rear back, my eyes rowing over her parted lips, her pupils dark with desire.
Fuck yeah . She needs this as much as I do.
Diving back in, I feast on her, kissing the soft spot behind her ear that makes her shudder all over.
She’s taking it so well. My good girl.
Intoxicated by her needy whimpers, I can’t get close enough, I can’t stop until I have her trembling in my arms with pleasure.
A tiny moan slips from between her pouty lips, going straight to my core, obliterating the last shred of control I possessed.
With a feral growl, I start rocking my hips into hers, grinding my painfully hard cock into her heat.
Malory’s breathy moans spurring me on as her hands claw at my skin, her back arching off the tree as I slam into her over and over.
Digging her nails deeper into my flesh, she begins to hesitantly wind her hips with mine. Fuuuck…
That’s it.
I thrust harder, pressing my throbbing bulge against her clit, rubbing the little nub against the head of my shaft with every stroke, her thin leggings offering barely any resistance.
Picking up the pace, her moans lacing with my grunts grow louder, filling the quiet forest around us as we burn together as one.
“Tyson… please…” She mewls, needing more to push her over the edge.
Whatever my girl wants, she gets.
Changing the angle, her cries gain on intensity and I know she’s getting close.
“D-don’t s-stop…”
“I won’t, baby.” I hit that spot again and again, grinding my teeth because I’ll be damned if I come first.
“You’re doing so well, little one.”
With renewed determination, I slam her against the tree, dry fucking her like an animal with her heels digging into my ass, urging me on.
“Ah… I’m gonna…”
“That’s it, let go.” I bring my mouth to her ear. “Come for me, baby girl.”
With a soul shattering moan, her whole body convulses around mine as pleasure wrecks her small frame.
“You feel so good.” I rasp into her skin. “So fucking good...”
I keep trusting, prolonging her orgasm as I desperately chase my own release. “F-fuck, baby…”
I need this. I need to feel her here with me.
Riding out the remnants of her high, Malory holds onto me for dear life as I spend myself with a roar against the side of her neck, losing myself in her.
And to think I wasn’t even buried to the hilt inside her.
My cock twitches at the thought of how tight she’s going to be.
We stay like that for a while, wrapped up in each other as we come down.
Holding her to me, our heaving chests plastered together, I feel her wetness seeping through the fabric, rubbing off on my pants.
Palming the back of her nape while my other hand supports her limp body, I bring our foreheads together.
She’s perfect, with trembling lips and watery green eyes. This girl has been fucking made for me.
Just like I am for her.
Our lips brush against each other as I speak what we both already know.
“You’re mine, little one.”