21. Twenty-One
I’m caught up in my memories for a moment, imagining how it looked when the guys stormed into the Tank to get me out. I stare at the gear they were kitted out in, remembering the brief glimpse I was able to see before my body shut down, lost to its need to heal me. Seeing it all brings a sense of peace I wasn’t expecting. I’m out, they got me out, regardless of why they did it.
While I look at all the weapons, I’m imagining myself, armed to the teeth, breaking into Omni and blowing it to pieces. Making sure no one else would ever experience what I’ve been through. Making sure John didn’t have the limbs necessary to try again.
Ray pulls me back into reality and gestures for me to meet him on the mats. I follow him, kicking my shoes off. The soft material gives slightly under my feet as I approach.
I tilt my head, attempting to show him I’m going to be every bit the obedient and eager student for whatever he plans on teaching me.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, his arms loose at his sides. There’s a teasing lilt to his question, like he’s ready and waiting to crack a joke at a moment’s notice, helping get rid of some of the tension I didn’t realize I was still carrying.
“Good?” I answer, unsure of what he’s angling for.
“Good.” The corners of his mouth creep up into a feline smile. The expression sends those damn butterflies through my stomach again.
“So, what now?”
“Now, I want you to punch me,” he says, and his smile never falters.
Is he serious?
“What? You don’t want to?” He sees my hesitation and takes a step, moving like a shark starting to circle his prey. “Don’t want to hurt this pretty face?”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. I roll my eyes, making sure he can see it.
“Come on, Princess, do your worst. I need to see what you can do.” He moves closer, well within arm’s reach, the dare clear on his face.
Fair enough.
I wind back, trying to pull every bit of strength into my arm, and swing. I’m surprised by my quickness, but I’m stunned by his.
In a single fluid move, he catches my wrist with one hand and pushes my shoulder with the other, forcing me to turn around. My feet lose contact with the soft mat for a second, and before I can even think about falling, he wraps his free arm around my torso, holding me firmly against his front. His tattoos contrast against the plain gray expanse of my shirt.
My arm is still caught in his firm grip, curled up behind me, and sandwiched between our bodies. I don’t try to escape; I know his strength and size are more than enough to overpower me should he want to. I have to stop myself, however, from leaning into him and letting him envelop me more.
“Oh, come on. That wasn’t the best you’ve got, is it?”
His voice is just a whisper, his breath warm against my throat. My heart is pounding in my chest, and it has nothing to do with physical exertion. Mentally, I’m thrown back to the last time he had me in a compromising position like this. It feels like it just happened, yet so much has changed. So much time has passed. I don’t feel like the same woman I was then.
I’m still pressed against him, but he pulls away slightly, tilting me enough to look at the fist twisted behind me.
“The speed was pretty good, but you’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t fix your form.” He releases my wrist at the same time he lets go of my body, and I stagger slightly before getting my bearings. I turn to see him holding out his hands, waiting patiently for me to present my own to him.
I lay my hands in his and watch as he forms them into fists for me, squeezing them into a tight curl.
Instinctively, I pull my thumbs in close, covering them with my fingers.
“Absolutely not.” Ray’s voice is stern, authoritative in a way that makes my stomach clench with new excitement.
His hands pry mine open, readjusting my fingers to his liking. “There. Now you might not break your thumbs.” He pauses, lifting my hand higher, tracing his thumb over the veins in my wrist. “How about that? All better from your daring escape?”
My heart is beating so hard in my chest, I worry that he can hear it.
“Good as new.” The words come out breathlessly.
“Glad to hear it.” His smile holds a promise, and I can only assume it means I’m about to be in for one hell of a training session.
Maybe Tucker was right, maybe I should be worried.
He walks me through the basics of throwing a good punch, and it’s surprisingly complicated. There are so many intricate technique details, and it feels like my coordination is abandoning me all together with each pointer he gives. Feet staggered, sitting at an angle. Engage the core. Turn with the hips. Make sure these two knuckles make contact, but if you hit with these two, you’ll break your hand.
Over and over, he drills the form into me, correcting my positioning constantly, showing me various ways to hit, and pointing out where those hits will be most effective. I diligently repeat all the different steps until he’s deemed I’m not an imminent threat to myself. Finally, he sends me off, directing me to the upright bag he has set up, while he gets his own workout in.
I do my best to remember his instructions and work without stopping, but it’s nearly impossible to maintain my focus while he’s on display the way that he is.
He’s stripped himself from the shirt he was wearing, now only clad in a beat-up pair of gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips. So much of him is exposed. It’s glorious, every inch of his body is muscle bound and gleaming. The teasing glimpse I was able to catch that first day was nothing compared to watching his body in action now. His skin shines with a light layer of sweat, highlighting his muscles as he does pull ups. My mouth gets increasingly drier the longer I watch.
His tattoos stretch up both of his arms and come together over his shoulders. Swirls of black ink come together and form an abstract art piece that almost looks like wings. They shift and flow with every movement, like they’re working to fly as he does pull ups. I’m unabashedly ogling him, watching the way his muscles ripple and strain with effort when he calls out over his shoulder.
“Getting distracted, Princess?”
I huff a laugh, hoping it’s enough to cover my embarrassment. He’s facing away, and there are no mirrors in here, so there’s no way he could know I’ve been sitting here staring at him like a creep instead of focusing on my own training.
He drops down from the bar he’s been using for his pull ups and slowly turns around, facing me fully, and giving me another eyeful. I can’t stop myself from taking a greedy scan of his body and I want to kick myself for it.
“What was that? Three minutes?” In slow assured movements, he walks towards where I stand, my feet cemented in place. “Did you get your fill?”
“Wow. You’re really full of yourself, aren’t you?” I’ve never been more grateful for how much I flush, or how deep my breathing gets when I exercise.
“Well, if you weren’t staring, what were you doing? Because you sure as shit weren’t hitting the bag.”
“You don’t know that,” I snap back, crossing my arms over my chest. It’s a stupid response, but I’m not willing to give up my pride and admit I’ve been watching him.
A glimmer of amusement settles onto his sharp features, and he takes a step towards the punching bag. He’s looking at me the whole time, even as he settles into his perfect stance.
One swift, sharp hit later, the insanely heavy bag shifts three inches from its original place, and the water weighing it down sloshes around in its base. The impact echoes in the silence of the large room.
He smiles at my confusion, waiting a moment before adding, “No sound.”
“What?”
I thought he was talking about me gawking about him?
“It was silent for a good few minutes before I decided to confront you about your wandering eyes.” He smiles, and that fucking dimple is back on his face, mocking me.
He stalks even closer, close enough I can feel the heat coming off him, feel the energy radiating from his chiseled body.
“I’ll ask again, did you get your fill, Madeline?” His eyes sweep over me, my name slipping off his tongue like he’s taking an oath, and I’m nearly swept away by it, my face heating under his gaze.
“I think I’ve seen more than enough of you, Rayner. Thanks for the offer though.”
I do my best to stress his name the same way he stressed mine, wanting to make him even a quarter as flustered as he made me, but having absolutely no clue how I would do that.
“Alright, then I guess we can be done for the day. There’s always tomorrow,” he says casually. His eyes are lit up in a way that doesn’t match his tone.
I turn to walk, feeling almost secure in my pseudo victory, but he grabs my arm, whirling me around, another teasingly scolding expression on his face.
“Oh no. I still need to make sure you’re cooled down and stretched out. Don’t want you hurting yourself on day one.”
He makes me sit on the mat and go through a similar stretching routine to the one we did after our run, but this time he’s pushing me further, instructing me to settle deeper into each of the stretches now that my muscles are warm.
When he sees me struggle to reach my toes, he kneels beside me and makes me lay on my back, pulling my legs upwards one at a time, and pressing them towards my torso.
The stretch feels divine, a perfect end to a grueling workout, and I sigh, my eyes fluttering closed. It definitely comes out more like a moan and Ray freezes above me, his weight still bearing down on my leg and extending the stretch.
Our eyes lock, his expression more intense than I’ve ever seen it. Did I just do that? Did my sigh just do something to him?
“You better not make a noise like that again, or I might do something stupid,” he warns.
I’m feeling brave, the thought I made him flustered bolstering my confidence. “Oh yeah, like what?”
He laughs and pushes a little further in response. He’s amused by my snarky remark, but not enough to let it slide fully.
There’s a sense of power building within me right now. Sure, I’m in one of the most compromising positions I’ve ever found myself in with a man, but, for some reason, I feel like I’m in control more than he’s letting on.
I make the same noise, and it comes out slightly more strained from the deep stretch.
He halts, tightening his fingers on my calf, his eyes boring into mine, the fierceness of his stare highlighting his understanding that I’m doing this on purpose.
“You’re playing with me, Princess.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” I say, feigning innocence. It’s only fair he has to deal with a little of what he’s dishing out to me.
“Oh, no?”
He shoves my leg to the side, granting enough of an opening for him to pin me like he had just a few days ago.
When I put my hands on his bare chest to shove him away, his eyes shine with victory before he grabs my wrists and pins them on either side of my head, effectively trapping me beneath him.
“You mean you’re not trying to tease me?”
“Fuck off, Ray. You tease me constantly.” I try to pull away from his hold, but he’s in full control right now.
“I was worried you hadn’t noticed.”
I roll my eyes at that remark. Of course I’ve noticed, it would be harder not to notice a freight train running through the clearing.
He looks conflicted, like he’s not sure where he wants to go from here. A second passes and that hesitation crumbles away, and his face hardens with determination.
“Tell me, Princess, are you unaffected right now?” He leans forward, and I think for a moment he’s going to kiss me. My heart races impossibly further, my lips already buzzing in anticipation of the first contact, but he keeps going. Bending further, until I feel his breath brush over my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. He licks up the side of my throat, ending just below my ear, and my body reacts.
No, it explodes.
I can’t process what’s happening, gasping at the sudden contact and my hips bucking up against him. To do what, I have no idea, but it’s an instinct I’m wholly powerless to fight against.
“Oh my god.” The words fall out of me in a moan. It’s the only thing I can think to say, the only phrase in my mind.
“Oh, I liked that. Let’s hear it again.” He mimics his teasing assault on the other side of my neck, licking below my right ear. Kissing and nipping like it’s his life’s mission to wring every vulgar noise he can out of me.
When he pulls back, his pupils are blown wide. He looks like a starved man, desperate for his next meal.
If I wasn’t restrained so fully, I’d haul him closer. I’d bring his mouth to mine and do everything I could to unravel him the same way he’s done to me.
He moves like he’s been able to read my mind this whole time, collapsing against me, stretching my arms overhead and forcing me to arch into him.
Our lips connect, and it’s every bit as explosive as I thought it would be. I’m being both grounded and lifted to unimaginable heights because I can’t touch him back. His grip tightens on my wrists each time I try to wrench free, and I’m sure he’s as into this as I am.
I bite at his lower lip, chasing away any restraint he was clinging to, and now he’s moving like a man unleashed.
Ray transfers my wrists into one of his hands and closes the other around my throat. He’s not squeezing hard enough to cut off my air, but pressing just enough for me to let out another moan directly into his mouth. His tongue pauses against mine as he growls out his response.
I shift my hips again, desperate for more contact, more friction, more anything. I’m groaning out my pleas, wordless sounds desperate for some kind of release. I feel him smirk against my lips, finally pressing harder against me. My gasp is genuine this time. I can feel him. Feel his length pressing against my body, only a few thin layers of fabric separating us.
I whimper, trying to grind against him, trying to find some way to relieve the new ache building between my legs.
“You like that?” He breaks our kiss, muttering the words against my lips. “Tell me what you want.”
I don’t have words, don’t have any idea what I want from him or how to say any of it out loud.
He pulls away when I don’t answer, and I want to beg him to stay, beg him to continue, when something lights up in his expression.
“I can’t wait to corrupt you.” His teeth flash in a salacious grin before he brings his mouth back down to my throat, nipping and kissing at my sensitive skin.
“Ray,” His name is both a prayer and a plea on my lips.
“God, you feel so good under me, Princess.”
His mouth meets mine, and I bite his lip again, wanting to elicit the same response, the same frenzied desperation I’m feeling right now.
I’m pinned and panting, needing something more from him. I don’t know what my body wants, but I feel as if I’m going to explode if it doesn’t get what it’s demanding.
It’s like he can sense I’m on the verge of overwhelm, at the precipice of it all being too much for me to handle, and he removes his hand from my throat. I start to whine, but his mouth seals away any complaints.
His hand travels lazily downward, fingertips trailing down the front of my throat, and squeezing my breasts. Kneading the sensitized flesh and rubbing his thumb over the tight knot of my nipple, restrained by too many layers of fabric.
He doesn’t stay there for long, giving me just enough attention to keep me peaked, before continuing the journey further down my torso.
There’s a moment of hesitation when he reaches the waistband of my shorts, as if he’s waiting for me to say no, to tell him to stop.
I couldn’t find the words even if I wanted to.
We’re still kissing, and my body is all but boneless beneath him, but I nod, giving every bit of consent I’m capable of at the moment.
He dips below my shorts and disregards the thin material of my underwear, quickly finding the exact place I want him.
“Holy fuck,” he pants against my mouth, his fingers grazing against my center. “Your pussy is so wet for me.”
I gasp wordlessly, not wanting to say anything that could break this moment apart. I’m terrified he’ll somehow make the same connection Silas did in the river, and walk away without looking back.
His slick fingers slide upward, and I suck in a breath when he hits a point that feels like the center of the universe. The pleasure is so sharp and intense, it takes me off guard, and I cry out.
He releases my wrists to cover my mouth. “Shh, Sweetness, we don’t want the guys to burst in here thinking I’m hurting you when I’m just rubbing your clit.” His voice is rough, gravelly in a way I’ve never heard.
With each stroke of his fingers, I’m being wound tighter and tighter like a stretched rubber band ready to snap at any moment.
“Are you going to come for me?”
I can’t think of a response, I can’t answer him. I don’t know what he means, but I never want this to stop.
His finger slides into me so easily, and the stretch brings me somewhere I’ve never been before. Somewhere outside of myself.
Ray grinds the heel of his hand into that perfect place again while curling his finger slightly inside of me, and the world shatters.
I’m being too loud, moaning against Ray’s palm, and I can’t even begin to care. I’m a kaleidoscope of ecstasy. Everything around me, and all of my awareness, is centered on Ray. Centered on his hand still caressing me and guiding me through it all.
When I finally come back to earth, he kisses me again, softer this time, anchoring me into myself.
I wince slightly when he removes his fingers and they glide over that point of pleasure, now doubly sensitized.
“What the hell was that?” I pant, still spooling myself back together after that violent bliss.
“That was your first orgasm, Princess.” He punctuates the revelation with another kiss, slow and gentle and lingering. “First of many, if you want.”
He rolls off of me and stands up, leaving me cold on the floor. It’s all too fast, and I move to reach for him, wanting to reestablish that connection between us, but I can’t. My body is barely functioning, and my limbs feel like jelly after what just happened. Even the apex of my thighs is quivering, as if begging him to return. I can only watch, my stomach sinking, as he crosses the gym and shrugs back into the shirt he’d lost however long ago.
“Wait, are you leaving?” I croak out, panic building in my chest.
I should do something, right?
There has to be some sort of reciprocity here, even if I don’t know what exactly it is. I have to find a way to return the favor.
He raises a dark eyebrow at me, silently pointing out just how unable to reciprocate I actually am at the moment.
“You don’t want …?” I trail off, hoping he understands the rest of it without understanding myself.
He crouches down beside me, adjusting himself inside his pants and making the hardness between his legs slightly less noticeable. Impressive, considering its size.
“I want everything. Trust me.” He winks.
“But-” I sit up, trying to figure out what combination of words I can string together to make him stay, make him give me the chance to give him everything he says he wants.
“Princess,” he caresses my face, his fingers gentle against my skin. “I want all of it. I want to teach you just how good it can be. I want to taste you. I want to feel your mouth on me. I want to feel you come around my cock…” he trails off, his eyes unfocused, like he’s envisioning it, before letting out a heavy sigh and shaking his head. “But Dane will be back soon, and he’ll be asking for you. When I have you how I want you, I’m going to need a lot more time than we have right now. Consider this a preview of what’s to come. How good we can be.”
His hand grips once more around my throat, and he kisses me deeply, promising to make good on every fantasy in his head. I melt into the kiss, eager to pull him back for more, but he breaks away before I can convince my limbs to work.
“Let’s go, Princess.” He pulls me to my feet and leads me quietly out of the shed.
He’s not his flirty, overly cocky self when we walk out, as if he no longer has to prove himself to me. He’s not trying to win me over or convince me of his skill; he’s already done that. He’s earned himself that little bit of pride. Now his swagger is coming from something different, something more sure and secure. He knows there’s more to come. We both do.
He walks like he wants the world to know what just went down on those mats, but he’s not going to shout it from the rooftops. He doesn’t need to.
Thank God. I have no idea how I would be able to navigate around the other men if they knew.