Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
Layla
T he first thing I registered was pain. It was a dull, throbbing ache that seemed to radiate from every cell in my body. My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, thoughts slow and sluggish as I clawed my way back to consciousness.
I blinked, trying to bring the world into focus. The room was dark, shadows pressing in from all sides. For a moment, panic bubbled up as memories of shipping containers, cages and dank basements flooded my mind. But the surface beneath me was soft. A bed, I realized slowly.
My hair felt damp against my neck, my skin clean in a way that suggested I'd recently bathed. The scent of unfamiliar soap clung to me, mingling with the musty odor of old linens. I was wearing an oversized t-shirt that definitely wasn't mine, the fabric soft and worn against my skin.
As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I became aware of a presence at the foot of the bed. A dark silhouette, barely visible in the shadows. The ember of a cigarette flared to life, casting a brief, hellish glow across familiar features.
River.
Relief flooded through me, followed quickly by utter fucking confusion. Where were we? How had we escaped? The last thing I remembered was pain exploding through my skull as it struck concrete.
I pushed myself up on shaky arms, propping myself up on my elbows. Surprisingly, I didn’t feel as bad as I should have after hitting my head on a concrete wall, just dizzy and sore.
I opened my mouth to speak, but only a dry rasp escaped my parched throat. River moved silently, materializing at my side with a glass of water. His hand cupped the back of my head gently as he held the glass to my lips.
"Easy," he murmured, “Small sips."
The water was tepid and tasted vaguely metallic, but it felt like heaven as it slid down my raw throat. When I'd drunk my fill, River set the glass aside and perched on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight.
"What happened?" I croaked, my voice still rough. "Where are we?"
When he spoke, his words were measured, careful. "We're still in the compound where they were holding us. Just upstairs now."
My brow furrowed as I tried to piece together the fragments of memory. "How...?"
"They made the mistake of touching you, when I specifically asked them not to. I warned them what would happen once the effects of the gas had worn off. They found out the hard way."
"And now?"
"Now we wait. The others will be back soon enough. We took out the three, but I think they were just lackeys. Alex is contacting Sarge right now.”
I gestured for the cigarette and River passed it to me without a word. The familiar burn of smoke filled my lungs as I took a long drag, letting the nicotine calm my frayed nerves.
“So what is this building anyway?” I looked around the bedroom. It was nice, I supposed, but unused and empty. It smelled like it’d been closed up for a while.
“It’s a safe house used by the feds. Used to be a bed and breakfast, but was repurposed years ago. But something tells me these fuckers are off books right now. We’re somewhere in Reno.”
As River took the cigarette back, stubbing it out on a dusty ashtray sitting on the nightstand, I caught sight of his hands. His knuckles were raw and split, dried blood crusted in the creases. Angry red marks circled his wrists where the handcuffs had bitten into his flesh.
My gaze traveled up his arms, taking in the myriad of scars both old and new that criss crossed his skin. River's presence seemed to fill up the small room, his darkness both comforting and slightly overwhelming in the enclosed space.
"River," I said softly, reaching out to touch his scarred hand. "Thank you. For what you did down there. For protecting me. It’s not your job, but thank you anyw?—"
Without warning, he moved with startling speed, pushing me back onto the bed. I gasped as my head hit the pillow, momentarily disoriented. River was suddenly looming over me, caging me. His muscled arms bracketed my head as he lowered himself, careful not to put his full weight on me.
My breath caught in my throat as River's face hovered inches from mine. I could see every scar, every line etched into his obscenely handsome features.
Instinctively, my thighs parted, allowing River to settle between them. The rough denim of his jeans scraped against my bare legs, a delicious friction that sent sparks of electricity dancing across my nerve endings.
“It became my job the moment I decided you were mine.” His hand cupped my cheek, calloused fingers surprisingly gentle against my skin. "I will obliterate anyone who ever attempts to harm you."
He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear. "I'll make them suffer in ways they can't even imagine. I'll break every bone in their bodies, one by one. I’ll bring you their heads as a trophy. I’ll burn it all fucking down before I let them touch you again."
My heart was pounding as I blinked at River. This man who was a ghost, a reaper, a savage. This man who didn’t want to be touched. Who tortured himself—punishment for things that were never his fault.
And I wanted him. So badly I ached for it.
"Stay perfectly still for me," River said, his voice a low rumble that I felt more than heard.
My stomach flipped as one hand trailed down my side, calloused fingers catching on the soft fabric of the oversized t-shirt. Goosebumps erupted in the wake of his touch as he traced lazy patterns on my skin. When he spoke, his voice was low and clipped, each word carefully controlled.
"When I saw their hands on you, something snapped inside me," he murmured, fingers ghosting along my ribs. "When it realized I was in love with you, I knew they were dead men."
My breath hitched and my eyes widened, but I forced myself to remain still as he'd commanded. His touch was feather-light as he continued to explore my body, fingertips tracing over my ribs, my belly, my hips. I fought to keep still, every muscle taut with the effort of not arching into his caress.
This was all him. He was in control of every movement. I knew he needed it. River would never allow himself to be at the mercy of another person again. I had every confidence that he’d been simply allowing them to hold him downstairs until the time was right. I didn’t think a thousand armies could hold him back.
He shifted, his hand moving to caress my jaw, his fingers tightening as he made me look right into his eye. He held me there, unable to move, or even think clearly. "I'm going to fuck you now, Layla, and you're going to stay perfectly still while I do it."
My stomach was doing backflips, and my pussy was already dripping wet. Every word out if his mouth made me burn. River's lips curved into a predatory smile that made my heart race. Slowly, deliberately, he pushed the t-shirt up, exposing my body inch by tantalizing inch. The cool air kissed my heated skin, making my nipples tighten into hard peaks.
River's gaze raked over me, hungry and possessive. His hand splayed across my stomach, fingers spanning nearly the entire width of my torso. The size difference between us had never been more apparent, and it sent a fresh wave of arousal flooding through me.
He lowered his head, lips brushing against my collarbone. "Remember," he breathed against my skin, "don't move."
I watched, breath catching in my throat, as River sat back on his knees between my spread thighs. With agonizing slowness, he grasped the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head. The fabric caught briefly on a thin silver necklace, the metal glinting in the dim light before settling against his broad chest. My eyes roamed hungrily over his exposed upper body, drinking in every detail.
Scars criss crossed his skin, some faded and silvery with age, others still pink and angry-looking. His hands moved to the waistband of his jeans, unbuttoning them with deliberate motions. The rasp of his zipper seemed too loud in the quiet room. He pushed the denim down just far enough to free his cock, and I couldn't hold back the low moan that escaped my lips at the sight of him.
His shaft was long and thick, flushed dark with arousal. But what made my pussy clench was the glint of metal piercing the head of his cock. A thick silver ring nestled just below the crown. Delicate lines of ink adorned the length of him, swirling patterns that matched the artwork on his arms.
Holy fuck, he was a dark god from the depths of hell itself.
I watched, transfixed, as River's large hand wrapped around his impressive length. He began to stroke himself slowly, his eye never leaving mine as he spoke. "You're the only woman who will ever touch this cock, Layla," he growled, his hand moving in long, languid pulls. "No one else. Just you."
I ached to reach out and replace his hand with my own, but I forced myself to remain still as he'd commanded.
"I belong to you now," River continued, "You own every fucking piece of me, and when this is all over, you and I are going to hunt down the rest of those child-loving motherfuckers and end them.”
His strokes became faster, more urgent. Pre-cum beaded at the tip of his cock, glistening in the dim light. The metal ring gleamed as it disappeared and reappeared with each movement of his hand.
Without warning, River released his cock and surged forward. His massive hands gripped my thighs, spreading them wider as he lowered his head between my legs. The first swipe of his tongue against my dripping pussy was almost enough to make me come.
His mouth worked me expertly, alternating between broad strokes of his tongue and focused flicks against my clit. One hand splayed across my lower abdomen, holding me in place as tremors of pleasure coursed through me.
I could feel my orgasm building, tension coiling tighter and tighter in my core. River sensed how close I already was. His lips sealed around my clit as he sucked hard, the tip of his tongue fluttering rapidly against it.
The dam broke. Waves of ecstasy crashed over me as I came with a cry, my body shuddering uncontrollably. River didn't let up, licking at me through the aftershocks until the pleasure bordered on pain.
As the last tremors subsided, he rose up over me. His face glistened with my wetness, eye dark with hunger. Without a word, he lined himself up and began to push inside me.
He braced his hands on the headboard as he began to fuck me slowly. The metal ring piercing the head of his cock created an amazing kind of friction as he eased inside, stretching me deliciously. I fought the urge to arch my back, to wrap my legs around him and pull him deeper. I remained still, even as every nerve ending in my body screamed for more.
A low, guttural moan escaped River's lips as he bottomed out inside me. His eye rolled back, thick lashes fluttering against his cheeks as his whole body shuddered. The corded muscles in his arms flexed as he gripped the headboard tighter, the wood creaking in protest.
"Fuuuck—" he growled, his voice rough and strained. He breathed hard and fast, nostrils flaring, as if he was holding himself in check, but just barely.
He began to move, withdrawing almost completely before sinking back in with agonizing slowness. Each thrust was measured, deliberate, like he was savoring every millimeter of my clenching heat. The piercing dragged along my inner walls, hitting spots I didn't even know existed.
I could feel every ridge, every vein of his thick cock as he fucked into me. His thrusts gradually increased in speed and force. The headboard banged rhythmically against the wall, the bed frame creaking beneath us. Sweat glistened on his scarred skin, muscles rippling with each powerful movement.
"Look at me," he growled, gritted through his teeth.
I met his gaze, drowning in the intensity I saw there. His eye was dark with lust and something deeper, more primal. Possessiveness. Hunger. A flash of that pure and utter violence that always simmered just beneath the surface.
"I’m yours," River snarled, punctuating each word with a brutal thrust. "Say it."
"You’re mine, River," I gasped, struggling to form words as pleasure built inside me.
His hand moved to grip my throat, applying just enough pressure to make my head spin. The edge of danger, the knowledge that he could snap my neck with ease, only heightened every sensation.
"Again," he demanded.
"Mine!" I choked out. "Fuck, River, you’re mine!"
He released my throat, his hand sliding down to rub tight circles against my clit. Then, as if something inside of him broke free, he sped up, thrusting harder and faster until I was screaming.
"River!" I screamed. "Oh fucking god, River, I'm gonna?—"
"Come for me," he demanded, "Fucking come on my cock, baby."
His words pushed me over the edge, white-hot pleasure exploding through every nerve ending. I screamed River's name, arching off the bed as my body convulsed. Something released inside of me, and wetness shot out of me, slicking our skin and soaking the sheets, but he kept moving. Kept fucking.
River's thrusts became erratic as he chased his own release. "Touch me," he growled, his voice raw and desperate. "Now!"
Finally allowed to move, I reached up and grabbed his face between my palms, forcing him to look at me. His eye was wild, pupil blown wide. I could feel the tremors running through his powerful body as he fought to hold back.
"Let go," I whispered through my moans, stroking my thumbs across his cheekbones, my every word gritted and breathy. "I've got you, River."
A shudder wracked his frame as he stared into my eyes. His hips stuttered, grinding deep inside me as he let out a guttural moan. I felt the hot pulse of his release, filling me as his cock twitched and throbbed.
He moaned, and moaned and moaned.
I held his face, anchoring him as he rode out the aftershocks. Soft, broken sounds escaped his lips. It was the most vulnerable I’d ever seen this man.
When the last tremors subsided, River collapsed on top of me, burying his face in the crook of my neck. His breath came in harsh pants, and his whole body was trembling. I wrapped my arms around him, sweat slicking between our bodies.
As I held him against me, I became aware of a growing wetness on my shoulder. His body shook with silent sobs, tears spilling onto my skin. My heart clenched painfully as I realized he was crying.
I tightened my arms around him, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his head. My fingers threaded through his damp hair, nails scraping gently against his scalp in soothing patterns. I could feel every tremor that wracked his body, every shuddering breath he took.
River nuzzled deeper into the crook of my neck, his lips brushing against my pulse point. The salt of his tears mingled with the sweat on my skin. I held him tighter, offering what comfort I could with my touch.
"Shh," I murmured, my voice soft in the stillness of the room. "I've got you, baby. You're safe with me."
His arms tightened around me, clinging to me like I was a lifeline in a storm. I continued to stroke his hair, marveling at how soft it felt between my fingers.
Gradually, River's sobs subsided, replaced by shaky breaths that ghosted across my damp skin. He pressed a tender kiss to my neck, his lips lingering as he inhaled deeply.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, voice hoarse.
I reached up, cupping his face in my hands. My thumbs stroked over his cheekbones, wiping away the last traces of moisture. "Don't fucking apologize. Not for this. Never for this."
He propped himself up on his arm and looked down at me. “Already giving me orders?” A hint of a sad smile twitched his lips.
“Well I do own you now,” I said lazily.
The peaceful moment was shattered by a sharp knock at the door. River tensed instantly, his body coiling with lethal readiness. He rolled off me in one fluid motion, reaching for the gun on the nightstand.
"It's me," Alex's voice called through the door. "We've got company."
I ran to the adjoined bathroom to the right, and quickly cleaned up, peeing as fast as I could, before River came in with some clothes. One thing I knew with absolute certainty, was that if I had to spend the rest of the day killing some poor schmucks, I wasn’t going to do it with a UTI.