Chapter 22 #2
All of the oxygen in my lungs runs dry, pulling my throat closed and forcing my voice down to a near whisper as words work to claw their way out. “...Why?”
I don’t know that the answer will actually make a difference one way or the other, but I need to know. I need to know what possessed him to end someone’s life because of me.
“That’s the stupidest question I’ve ever been asked,” he laughs – it’s a dark, tired laugh.
Not the one that I’ve gotten so used to, the one that he gives freely, like he can never run out of them.
Not the one that splits his face in two and gives him those cute little crinkles next to his eyes.
“Why is water wet?” With his icy blue eyes darkening, burning a hole into mine, he bends down to press his forehead against mine.
His finger hooks beneath my chin and he lowers his voice to a growl.
“I’d kill any bastard that ever hurt you.
Give me a list of names of the men that took you to one of those rooms when you didn’t want them to, and I’ll make a day of it.
I’d turn the world on its fucking end for you, Sugar. ”
I should be terrified.
I should run the fuck out of here screaming, call the cops and get on a plane to the middle of nowhere. Right now.
I should go into hiding and change my name.
Every single instinct should tell me that I am in danger and that this is the time to escape; to panic.
And yet, the only instinct making a move to do anything, is the one that drives me to wrap my arms around his neck and drag him down so that I can meet his lips in a hungry embrace, tangling my fingers into his soaked hair.
Eric’s arms snake around my waist and he pulls my body close to his, crushing me against the hard wall of his body as his tongue dives into my mouth, tangling with my own.
The feeling of his jewelry in my mouth sends a rocket of need burning between my legs.
I shimmy out of his shorts, abandoning them on the shower floor, and a bolt of electric heat rockets down my spine as his hands find my ass, hoisting me up as he pins me to the wall.
“I should be terrified of you,” I pant, wrapping my legs around him.
“Probably,” he agrees as his mouth dives for the side of my neck and his teeth meet my skin in a firm bite, pulling a moan from my lips.
My hands roam across his chest, my thumbs grazing over the barbells secured through each of his nipples, and he groans his approval in response, throwing just a little more pressure into his bite.
When we were in Cancun, we were cocooned inside of a bubble made up of wild anonymity. Just two virtual strangers with similar desires, pulled together by the magnet of fate; the same magnet that brought him into Envy the night that he found me.
Our finding each other was inevitable, unavoidable.
It was something set in motion long before we ever laid eyes on each other.
Now, in the real world, we see each other – not just as those strangers that we used to be.
I see the man who still acts like a boy; the one who never grew up because he didn’t have a childhood.
The boy who can’t tell me that he loves me because it took twelve years for someone to finally say it to him.
He sees the girl behind the wall that I keep myself hidden behind, terrified of trusting too deeply – and of having that trust broken once it’s been given.
I think that he can see into the broken pieces of me that I wish I could put back together.
Weeks of denying myself his body on mine catch up to me in an overwhelming wave of need as I whine and rock my hips against his, using my body to plead with him for his cock.
His hand wraps itself around my throat, squeezing firmly enough that my breath catches and my mouth drops open just slightly, and his mouth meets my ear with a growl.
“If you want me to fuck you,” he says, “you’re gonna have to beg me for it.”
In an act of silent defiance, I try to scoot down his body, praying that his cock is waiting to meet me halfway. Eric’s hand tightens around my throat, pushing me against the wall as he deprives me of oxygen, and he shakes his head at me.
“Uh-uh, Sugar” he growls. “Beg.”
“Please?” I ask, fluttering my lashes at him and a smile tugs at the corner of his lip.
He presses his lips to mine in a tender embrace before bringing his mouth to my ear again. “Nice girls get kissed. Filthy girls get fucked. Are you gonna be a nice girl? Or are you gonna be a filthy fucking girl for me and beg for it?”
A shiver fires down my spine, sending goosebumps rocketing across my skin, and I find myself suddenly desperate to comply just to get another taste of him.
“Please Eric,” I plead, my hips rolling against him, “please give me your cock. I need to feel you inside of me. I’ll do anything.
” His free hand trails beneath me, his fingers walking along the skin below my thigh until he finds my pussy, wet and aching for him.
The only thing keeping me from dropping on my ass are my own limbs wrapped tightly around him and his grip on my throat; and he knows it, too.
“Please,” I beg again, breathlessly. Almost crying.
“I missed you. I need you. Please fuck me.”
I hardly have the time to take a breath before I’m pulled hard onto his cock, given every generous inch of it, and the two of us moan in unison as he fills me up.
His hand leaves my throat, moving instead to my ass to support me, and I don’t miss his eyes flicking to the skin of my throat to make sure that he hadn’t squeezed too hard.
I propel myself forward just enough to take his mouth with mine, telling him without words that I am fine.
He didn’t hurt me. And if he had, it would have been because I wanted him to.
I remember my safe word.
The nails of one of my hands dig into his shoulder blade, burrowing into his skin as I hold onto him, and he moves his mouth from mine back to my neck, sinking his teeth into my skin with a growl as my nails pierce his flesh.
His body is claiming every inch of mine, and his heart doesn’t have to work too hard to do the same.
I belong to him.
He chased me down and caught me in that hotel room, and from that moment, he owned me.
That’s why he has taken up my every thought, visited in every dream that I’ve had, why he’s the person that I know, despite what he did tonight – or maybe even because of it – that I could run to and I think he really would burn the world down to keep me safe.
It doesn’t matter that what he did scares the hell out of me.
I could have dated thirty guys, hell, I could have even fallen in love and gotten married if I felt so moved; but a part of me would have always stayed in that suite, locked away, waiting for him.
Maybe that’s why it was never going to work with Ethan; or maybe it’s why I chose to be with such an asshole.
Because I was waiting. I didn’t want anything worth keeping, because it was never going to be him.
Eric’s moans pull me from my thoughts and I realize that he has his forehead pressed against mine while he fucks me, his icy eyes boring into mine, as if I’m the only thing in the world that exists for him right now, and he’s the same for me.
I reach a hand up to cup his face, bringing my fingers down the line of his jaw until my hand wraps around his throat, and I give it a squeeze.
I’ve let him hold my life in his hands, I’ve trusted him to give me oxygen back when I needed it. If he can trust me to do the same…
The thrusting of his hips changes pace; faster, deeper, more desperate the harder that I squeeze, until I think I might die from the pressure pent up between my legs that forces a groan from my lips.
His rhythm doesn’t falter while I choke him; if anything, it fuels him further.
Bringing his face close to mine, he pulls his tongue along my jaw, tracing it from my chin all the way up to my earlobe, and he sucks at the skin there, giving it a hard nibble that sends an explosion through every one of my nerves, and I fall apart.
I cry out, my hips bucking against his and my grip on him failing as I come.
“There’s one,” he pants as he pulls out of me.
He reaches for the soaked fabric of the massive t-shirt that I forgot I was wearing and he slips it over my head, baring my body to him with a feral grin that makes him graze his teeth over his lower lip while his eyes scan over me.
He turns my back to him and pulls my arms behind me, securing them together tightly at the wrist with the ruined shirt. “Now for two.”
I look over my shoulder at him. “But you haven—”
I feel a finger lightly trace over the skin of my ass and can make out the sound of Eric drawing in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Motherfucker,” he growls, I think mostly to himself.
Without another chance to question or protest, I’m lowered onto the floor of the shower, the water beating down on my back, and Eric lifts my ass into the air, forcing my cheek to press against the floor of the shower next to the discarded pair of shorts.
I feel his tongue drag up the curve of my ass, and then I feel his teeth.
He nibbles at my skin, biting his way up my back in a slow trail until he reaches the nape of my neck.
It must be bare, because I feel him hesitate, just for a second, before his hands find my hips and he pulls me onto his cock with a low groan.
I work my hips against him, my hands desperately trying to find their way out of my restraints so that I can better support myself, but they’re really in there securely.
There’s no getting them out from the knotted fabric surrounding them.
Eric’s hand finds it way around my throat, lifting my body to a sitting position on his lap, and the other hand crawls down between my legs, running his fingers on either side of my throbbing clit.
I let out a loud moan, bucking at the contact.
“Oh my...god,” I shudder.
“Are you already gonna come again?” He taunts me. He’s so proud of himself right now, I could slap him if I had access to my hands.
...But yes, yes I am.
I whine as he works his fingers faster against my clit, sending jolts of electricity up my spine, and I let my head fall backward against him while I ride his cock.
My body shakes while I fall apart again, crying out as another orgasm takes hold of me and I inadvertently clamp his hand between my thighs in the process, panting desperately while his mouth meets my neck in a groan.
His teeth clamp down hard on my skin and I feel his cock pulse inside of me, warming me from the inside as he comes with me.
Yeah… I’m his.