Chapter 6
ALEX
“No!” Rafe thrashed beside me in bed, pulling me from sleep. “Get off of me,” he said with an agonized groan. Undeniable pain laced his voice, and his helplessness suspended me in a state of horror.
“Rafe,” I said in an urgent whisper. “Wake up.” I settled my hand on his shoulder, but he screeched a louder cry.
Bolting upright, he lunged for me. His sweaty hands clamped around my neck, unrelenting in their intent.
I wheezed a plea and squinted at the doppelganger strangling me.
Rafe wasn’t unleashing an act of sexual perversion—he was a madman lost to the terror of a nightmare.
“Rafe!” I fought for air, but his hands emanated rage. Cleft’s name bled from his lips with a sob.
“It’s me…” I said, barely getting the words out. Entrapped in full panic mode now, I dug my nails into the backs of his immovable hands.
He’s going to kill me.
The shadow of his massive form grew smaller, darker. My heartbeat throbbed in my ears, like a slow and steady bass drum counting down the last seconds of my life. I yanked his hair, scratched his scruffy face…
Blackness.
A loud gasp tore from my lips, and I sucked oxygen into my lungs as if I’d never breathe again.
Clutching my throat, I coughed as Rafe’s hunched form at the edge of the bed crystalized.
Through my tears, I watched his expression crumble.
Tugging the sweat-drenched strands on his head, he shuttered his gaze.
“I-I’m sorry,” he said, huffing rapid breaths.
“What”—I coughed again—“happened?”
He ran a trembling hand down his face then stared at me with tortured green eyes. “I was dreaming…” He exhaled in a rush. “I could’ve fucking killed you.”
I swallowed hard, one hand still massaging my throat, and scooted into a semi-reclined position. Somewhere between passing out and coming to, he’d switched on the light.
“What were you dreaming about?”
That’s when he shut down. We could have been sitting in pitch black, and I still would have sensed him withdrawing.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said, looking somewhere over my shoulder.
“You mentioned Cleft.”
“I don’t remember.” He reached overhead and tugged on the chain to the light, sending the room into darkness again.
The mattress shifted under his weight, and his trembling arms enclosed me, urging me to lie back on the bed.
Burying his nose in my hair, he settled his body over mine. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“But you did.” I wasn’t talking about the choking or even the anal sex. By the heavy moment of silence that fell upon us, I figured he knew that.
“I don’t deserve you, Alex. I should let you go, but I can’t.”
“I’m not asking you to let me go. I’m just asking you to be honest with me.”
“I’ll end up destroying you.”
My heart nearly stopped. That statement was too close to what he’d said in my nightmare while we were trapped in that tunnel.
Part of me was scared he was right. The way he’d taken me tonight, forcing his cock in my ass…
the residual pain of that pinged through my chest. Then to wake up to him choking me, really choking me as if he meant it and wouldn’t stop.
As if he couldn’t stop. He’d spit out Cleft’s name while in the throes of his nightmare, all the while squeezing the life out of me.
Those were the actions of a tortured man.
“After you left,” I began, hesitant because I wasn’t sure how receptive he would be to what I was about to say, “I started seeing a therapist. Maybe talking about what Cleft did will—”
“We’re not talking about the past. We’re moving forward.”
“This isn’t moving forward.”
“Leave it alone,” he warned, maneuvering until we were on our sides. He spooned me and grabbed my breast with one hand while the other wedged between my thighs.
“No,” I said, a challenge in my tone. “I won’t leave it alone. You can’t shove everything under the rug and pretend it didn’t happen.”
“You just broke the third rule, sweetheart.” He slid a leg between mine, opening me for his plundering touch. “If you break the rules, you get punished.”
Like the whore I was, I spread for him, despising myself for wishing he’d push that finger deeper. “This is your idea of punishment?”
“Yep,” he whispered, touching me more fully, his breath heating my ear.
He forced his free hand between my lips and depressed my tongue until I gagged.
“Fuck, you turn me on so much,” he said, thrusting devious fingers in and out of my pussy.
“So fucking wet.” He pushed against my backside with a grunt.
I bucked into his hand, moaning my pleasure around the fingers that gagged me, drenching the fingers that fucked me. Shameless, I pleaded for him to let me come in muffled whines, inaudible whines, yet he somehow understood them.
Understood them enough to yank his touch from the wet, throbbing place that ached for release.
His fingers slipped from my mouth, and our torturous desire for each other blasted the room in shallow breaths.
Tears wandered down my cheeks. Frustrated, angry tears.
He wasn’t being fair. I moved against his thigh, sliding in my wet need, but he removed his leg.
Gathering my wrists in one hand, he held them in front of me, far away from my throbbing pussy.
“Are you gonna tell me no again?”
I almost shook my head until I realized it was a trick question.
Instead, I pressed my legs together, willing the space between to simmer down.
As if my stillness taunted him, he jammed a finger between my thighs and teased my slit.
I arched into his erection, unable to stop myself, and rubbed my ass against his length.
Just baiting him, probably playing with fire.
He dipped a thumb inside me before wedging it between my lips.
The way Zach used to, except my reaction was vastly different.
I sucked my arousal off, quieting a frustrated groan.
Rafe would keep me strung all night. I dreaded it, but I also lived for it, knowing how his mind games heightened the thrill.
The thought of being trapped by orgasm denial made me squirm. God, I was on the cusp of splintering.
“Do you want my cock in your ass again?” To emphasize the threat, he inched his tip into my tender hole.
I nearly shook my head, almost told him no.
Another trick question.
Going completely still, I counted, drawing in even breaths through my nose. He brushed his fingers over my nipple, and I bit my lip hard to keep from moaning out loud.
“Good girl.”
He shifted until the tip of his cock nudged my pussy, and I thought I’d die.
How could he hold back so well? Especially since he was as worked up as I was.
His chest pressed against my back in a furious tide, and I imagined his mouth stretched tight to withhold a curse.
He couldn’t hide what his body wanted. His heavy breathing and hard cock gave him away.
He nipped my ear, and his lazy caress on my nipple turned to a hard pinch. “You’re so intuitive, knowing when to submit without a single word. So fucking perfect.” He tongued the rim of my ear, and I broke out in shivers.
“No more questions. Are we clear?”
No. We weren’t clear at all. Somehow, I’d find out why he’d left the way he had. I wouldn’t stop until I got him to talk to me. Otherwise, this would never work if we kept secrets from each other—if we couldn’t compromise. If we lied to each other.
But he’d left me no other choice. The word no wasn’t allowed in my vocabulary, so with my body on fire, held captive by my unwavering need for him, I told him what he wanted to hear.
“We’re clear.”