Chapter 19 Olivia #3
He looks at me, then down at my mouth before slowly continuing his light touch down to the pulse in my neck.
I can’t help the way my body reacts, goosebumps covering my flesh as I feel the dangerous caress of liquid pleasure tangle in my core.
But he doesn’t stop, moving down to my collar bone.
He takes his time, letting the pad of his index finger press into my skin gently before he moves down.
I exhale heavily, knowing what comes next.
And I worry he’ll back out—I really need him to keep touching me right now.
It’s the only thing keeping me fucking sane despite how crazy he’s been driving me.
And I think he knows that. I sigh with relief when his finger reaches the curve of my breast but I can see how hard he is breathing as he does.
I watch his eyes as they follow the trail of his finger.
Everything ignites as he flicks his finger against my hard nipple, and he finally brings his eyes to mine.
He does this to me when I’m sleeping, I’m just now imagining all those nights and mornings I woke up to my dreams morphing from terror to feeling aroused. That was all him. He was there. Watching me. Touching me. Protecting me.
He stops his movements to pull at the zipper of my jacket, yanking it down until it’s undone. He moves his hand back into place but this time, pressing his whole palm over my breast.
I let out a moan.
“You like that, baby?” he asks me. His voice is now something so unrecognizable, lust carved into the darkness of his tone, creating another swarm of heat between my thighs. I have to clench them together to quell the ache, but it’s not enough.
I nod with so much greed, biting my lip between my teeth. My head tilts back into the tree behind me as I close my eyes, letting him touch me.
I envision the dream behind my closed eyes; the nightmare that he twisted into something I can feel safe in. The way his movements reflect the exact feelings of pleasure I’d found myself wrapped up in while feeling trapped to something I’ve never been able to explain.
And then, just like in the dream, a gust of light air falls over my face.
I open my eyes to see that Trace is pulling back a bit.
It was all him. Every single time this exact scenario played out, he was the reason.
He pulled me from the threat of dying in those nightmares.
He figured out a way to guide me to safety so rather than waking up with fear of the unknown, I would wake feeling . . . raptured.
His hands leave my breasts only to slide down my body just as normal just as he would when I’m dreaming. God, I hope he doesn’t stop. I want him to fucking touch me.
I hold immaculately still, even forcing myself to stop breathing as I feel his hand skate down my stomach, but he stops right before reaching the band of my pants and my body deflates.
Annoyance washes over me. Greed, frustration, admiration, anger, and confusion all find their way into my brain, fighting for purchase. But above all else, I feel desire. And in that desire, I feel broken and lost.
I watch as Trace walks away, not another word. But I can’t let him leave me. Not like this. Not after everything. I pull myself off the tree and try to catch my breath before stopping him.
“What did you mean when you said that the people who claim to love me are the ones feeding into this fucked up version of me, Trace?”
He doesn’t stop. I zip my jacket back up as I take a few steps forward.
When he doesn’t answer me, I ask another question.
“What is it that you think I did to you?” I let my voice carry a little louder now, knowing that if I’m loud enough, someone might hear us. Maybe even Alli. But he still doesn’t stop walking away.
“Trace! Answer me damn it!”
This time, he finally stops but doesn’t turn to look at me. I take a few steps forward hoping to reach him.
“Forget about it, Olivia,” he says and my heart drops. He’s un-fucking-believable.
I storm up to him, pushing him in his back.
“No, Trace. Fuck that! If you plan to punish me for something you think I did, then punish me.” I push him again. “I’ll take it. But you have no right to treat me like I mean nothing to you if you can’t even tell me the fucking reason.” I push him again but doesn’t move.
But still, he doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move. And the dam breaks.
I reach my hands into my pocket, pulling out my rings.
And as soon as I get them into place, I push him in the back one more time, this time using the hand with the spiked rings.
I know it’s not much, but the slight jabs into his skin, even through the fabric of his clothes, causes him to turn around in anger.
But before he can make a move on me, I grab him by his neck and back him up a few feet until his back hits a tree.
He hisses on impact and then I squeeze his neck.
Little drops of blood start to pebble down his skin, satisfaction swelling in my chest. I know he’s likely allowing me to handle him like this, but I don’t take the opportunity for granted.
I watch him smile sadistically at me as I lean up, stepping on the tips of my toes to press my lips to his as I whisper, “I bet you wish I was on my knees for you the way I was earlier, with your dick so far down my throat, I might gag, pretty boy. But I’m not just some fucking ragdoll you can toss around when you’re bored, Trace.
” I lean back, watching his eyes turn from a prideful golden hue, to a dark honey, twisting with fury.
Almost like looking into a dark abyss. A heated, harsh stare straight to my soul. A warning that I am playing with fire.
But I don’t care. Even if he’s letting me have him like this, I’m going to make myself very clear. I put my mouth to his ear, just like he’s done to me many times. And I dart my tongue out against his skin, licking the outline of his ear lobe.
Trace reaches a hand out and grips my hip. His fingers press deep into my skin, causing me to grind my jaw and squeeze my rings into his neck even harder.
“Do not provoke me, Olivia. I will make you fucking bleed if you think you can fuck with me.”
“Oh, but you’d like that though, wouldn’t you? That’s the kind of thing you’re into these days.” I swipe one of my fingers through the small trails of blood on his skin and bring it up to his mouth, smearing a little trace of his blood across his bottom lip.
I watch as he darts his tongue out, swiping it across the little taste of blood before letting go of my hip.
“You have no idea, Reckless.” His words scare me. I can’t even be sure why. But my blood runs cold even as something warm and tangible pulses between us. Regret. Wrath. Desire.
I decide to let him go, pulling my rings off his skin and stepping back. I look down at the ground for a second before turning my back on him, but I don’t walk away.
Maybe it’s time to change gears just a little, to approach him in a different way.
“Did you know that I lost my memories from that night? Some of them anyway,” I say, something akin to hope lacing my tone. Hope that we can learn to understand each other in the missing years between us. Hope that he’ll let me the fuck in. Hope that we can stop whatever war we’re in.
But he doesn’t give in.
“I know you like to think you did,” he says and I turn around with confusion painted on my face.
“Are you fucking serious, Trace? You think I would pretend to not remember?”
“That’s not what I said.” He brings his hand up over the side of his neck and touches the small puncture wounds there before bringing his fingers to his mouth to lick off the blood.
“Then enlighten me,” I demand with my hand on my hip.
“Just know that everything I’m doing here, is for a fucking purpose. You either catch on or you keep running away from the truth, Reckless.”
“Why can’t you give me a fucking straight answer, Trace? What is the point of all these childish antics.” I swing arms around, displaying my frustration. “And why the fuck do you keep calling me that nickname?”
He smiles, a quiet but deadly smirk meant all for himself but it lingers a moment too long and catches me in my core. He turns his eyes down to look at me, lowering his voice to a gravely rumble.
“Because, you letting me have your innocence was reckless. I got one little taste of the sweetest sin and it’s caused madness in me ever sense.
You had access to flip my fucking switch and that’s exactly what you did.
You broke your promise and you stabbed me in the fucking back.
Reckless. Well, I made a promise to you, remember Olivia.
If you run, I will fucking find you. And it was very reckless of you to not heed my warning.
” He looks at me. His deadly hazel eyes spark a fire inside of me, igniting and spreading as he gazes over every inch of my body as he lowers his voice to a dangerous whisper.
“But letting you into my fucking heart, that was reckless of me.”
I used to be able to read him, used to be able to tell what he was feeling or thinking just by looking into the depths of his eyes.
He used to let me in that way. But now he’s veiled by a dark mystery that he’s hell-bent on keeping locked up, only to force me to succumb and submit to his depravity.
And I want it. I want his wrath for some reason.
But my heart aches hearing his words.
“Does that mean you regret us?” I ask, letting the sadness in my tone go unmasked.
“Because I don’t,” I add and he barely looks at me, but I can tell there’s still something there.
I can tell he’s not truly numb to what we had.
Maybe he just needs to get this out of his system. Maybe I just need to let him.
But what promise did I break?
“Why did you come back?” I decide to ask, attempting my luck again, trying to get him to give me a straight answer and when he steps up, adrenaline thrums in my chest.
“To show you the fucking value of keeping promises.”
I scoff as I roll my eyes. “That’s rich coming from you.”
“You think whatever you want, but you will know the fucking truth.”
“Or you can just fucking tell me what you think I did, Trace. Please.” I take another step toward him, both of us going back and forth, back and forth.
But he shakes his head at me.
“No, that’s not fair,” I start, letting my disappointment bleed through.
Hoping that he can see just how fucking desperate I am.
“You won’t tell me what the hell is going on and I’m just expected to fall in line and act like I still fucking care for you.
Is that what you want, Trace? After everything you’ve done to me.
You broke me, Trace. You left me in pieces and now I need you to put me back together.
Can’t you fucking see that?” I’m surprised at my own words, having let them come naturally.
An admission I was trying to push down, but now it’s out.
My vulnerability is displayed for him on a silver platter with an open invitation to feed on.
But once again, he denies my pleas.
“You want me to fill your void, Olivia? You want me to make you whole again.” He walks up to me, so quick that I almost have to step back. But I freeze as he lifts his thumb, running it over the plump curve of my bottom lip.
He lowers his tone to a sultry, dark whisper as he looks at my mouth.
“The only problem is, I am your fucking void.”
I slap him, rearing my hand back and swinging my open palm into the side of face. He keeps his thumb in place as his head turns on the impact, his face immediately turning red with the mix of my contact and the cold.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I seethe through clenched teeth.
And then, Trace starts to chuckle as he turns back to face me. He drops his hand to grab his dick, seemingly trying to adjust himself behind his jeans. When I look down, I see how unquestionably hard, and big, he is and my cheeks heat.
He pulls my attention back up as he grabs me by the front of my throat and pulls me into him, our mouths nearly touching once more.
“You wanna know something, little reckless?” he breathes over my lips. “I’m kind of fucking crazy.”
And then he pushes me back.
Humiliation courses through me and my mind spins with annoyance. I can’t keep letting him taunt me like this. I have to put my mind back into focus and leave this behind, even if it’s going to feel like it would break me all over again.
Over the years, I guess it can be said that I’ve been known for my truculence, for my eagerness to stand my ground and quite frankly, not afraid of confrontation.
And I want to snap at him, I want to argue and fight.
But part of me wonders if that’s what he wants.
So instead I just turn quietly and start to walk away.
I hear the sound of mud sloshing under my feet as I walk, but then a second pair of footsteps joins in.
“I know you need me, Livie,” Trace says as he follows behind me. “Say it. Tell me you need me.”
“I don’t need you,” I state without stopping.
But I’m forced to a halt once more. Trace pulling on my arms, a little more gently this time, as he pulls me off to the side, pushing us both up against a tree—a position we can’t seem to escape.
He softens his tone as he watches me with fevered sincerity behind his eyes.
“Yes, you do, baby.” He brushes his fingers down my cheek and I shiver, reveling in his touch. “Stop being such a fucking brat and tell me you need me.”
“Trace,” I breathe out. Everything collapses within me. Every harsh word and threatened stare. Ever soft whisper and heated touch. Every ounce of pain he’s inflicted, every time he’s told he wants me. It all folds up into each other, over and over again until I don't know what is what any longer.
He’s right. Maybe I do need him. Fuck, maybe I have all along. But I don’t want to give in just for him to take it all away again.
“Fucking say it, Olivia.” He watches me. Watches the way my chest rises and falls. Watches the way my eyes cloud with the threat of tears. Watches as I struggle to keep my boundaries in check, knowing that I will always give in to him.
Is he manipulating me? Maybe, but what it really is all for a purpose, just as he said. What I’m realizing more and more is that we are infinitely fucked up, him and I. And as much as I hate him for the way he’s gone about this, I can’t deny that I crave every single ounce of it.
I look up at Trace. I’m still fucking terrified of him but I’ve never been good at lying to him. Especially when all I can remember is how remarkably his I once was.
I say it. I admit it. Letting the words freefall in a daring confession.
“I need you.”
Trace leans in and presses his mouth to mine as he says, “That’s a good fucking girl, Olivia.”
And then he kisses me.