Gio
I ’m running through the docks, the salty air stinging my nostrils. Stacks of shipping containers loom around me like a maze, their metal sides reflecting the harsh sunlight. I hear Lucas’s laughter echoing off the containers, always just out of sight.
“Lucas,” I call, my voice cracking with desperation. He’s there. I know he is. Beyond my reach. “Where are you?” A blinding flash of white replaces his laughter. “No!” I scream, lunging forward. But I’m too late. Always, too late. The explosion engulfs Lucas, and I’m thrown backward, my skin searing with heat. I fight it off, swinging at the fire as it tries to wrestle me down. Hold me back. “No. Lucas. No. Got to get to Lucas.” I shout out again, but instead of reaching my brother, I’m yanked out of the nightmare. The fog ripped away, leaving me drenched in sweat, a scream dying in my throat. I blink, shaking away the worst of the nightmare, still clinging to me like a second skin.
Instinct takes over when a hand lands on my back, right over the worst scars. I react blindly, my body on autopilot. A sharp yelp clears the last of my disorientation. Taking me from one nightmare to another. This one is worse because it’s real. Jeniah is sprawled on the floor beside the bed, her eyes wide and mouth open.
“Fuck,” I gasp, horror washing over me as I help her from the floor. “Jeniah, I—”
“I’m fine,” Jeniah insists. But the way she winces twists in my gut like a knife.
I slump back against the headboard, running a hand over my face. “Shit, Jeniah. Fuck, I didn’t mean to—I would never—”
“Hey,” she says. “It’s okay. I’m okay.” When I don’t answer, she adds, “You’re okay.”
But I see the red mark on her arm where she must have hit the floor. “No, I’m not. I’m a fucking monster, and you need to leave. Leave Jeniah before I hurt you anymore. I’ll see you in a little bit. I just need to—”
. “,” she says. “I’m not going anywhere. Besides, if or when I leave you is up to me. My choice, remember?”
My brows lower. “It’s insane that you believe I’ll give you that choice.”
“But you said—”
“Fuck what I said,” I storm riled by her words. “I said I wouldn’t force you into marriage. You still have that choice. But leaving me… Taking this gorgeous ass to someone else… Okhi, that’s not happening.” She bites her lip, preparing to overthink it—to argue. But I’m done discussing it. I meant the shit I told her last night. She’s mine.
I pull her lip from her mouth and lick the slight indent of her teeth. “I want you. Want to take you soft and slow. Bury myself inside your beautiful body and fucking live. Let your heat stroke me—”
“—then…”
Cupping the side of her face, I continue. “But I need something else. Harder. Rougher. The nightmare unleashed my demon—and he’s hungry. I’m not sure you’re ready for that. So if you aren’t… Go to your room or the kitchen. Get yourself something to eat…”
“I’m ready. If your demon’s hungry. Let’s feed him.”
“Jeniah, you don’t know what that means…”
“It means you need me. I’m here for whatever you need.”
Fire shoots through my body, and I close my eyes to hide the inferno. Fuck it. I warned her. The nightmare destroyed my gentle—leaving not a shred. “Spread your legs,” I growl, pushing her down onto the mattress.
She does, and I press my palm against her mound. Her panties are damp, and I howl like an animal. I want to taste her. I want to drink from her pussy and drown. But I want to fuck her more.
I slide her back and kneel over her. Yanking her panties off and tossing them aside. Her wide, glazed eyes never blink. Unzipping my pants, I free my cock. It’s already hard, throbbing with need.
“Are you sure?” I give her another chance to flee, not knowing how I’ll react if she does.
“Yes,” she breathes.
I pin her wrists above her head. Line my cock up with her entrance and thrust in, burying myself to the hilt. She cries out, and I take her moans with a kiss. Swallowing it down as I keep pumping in and out of her. She arches her hips, meeting me thrust for thrust.
“You’re mine,” I growl against her lips. “Say it.”
“Yours,” she gasps. “All yours.”
I speed up, slamming into her harder and faster. Her walls clench around me. She’s close. I’m not. Anger scratches under my skin. A million insatiable fire ants, determined to find their way out. I pull out and turn her over in one move. Dropping to her exposed neck—I bite.
She yelps and tries to twist away, even though I didn’t break the skin. But I hold her in place, my teeth nipping over her shoulder blades and down her spine. I want to mark her. Need to claim her. She’s not leaving my bed without knowing who fucking owns her. Owns her body—her orgasms. She won’t carry the choice down the hall. Pack it up and pull it out when she needs to. If I have to fuck this choice out of her, I will. Paint my semen on her body so it sinks into her fucking pores— I will.
I push her face into the mattress and raise her ass. My palm lights up one cheek and then the other while I hold her in place. “Do you have a fucking choice about this?”
She shakes her head, but her wrists strain against my hand. Resistance. I’m not having it. I squeeze harder and continue spanking her. Not the light taps another man might give her. Hell, I might give her when my monster retreats. But right now, he demands that she have something to remember when she sits her ass on a chair—today, tomorrow, this week.
She’s shuddering beneath the blows. My monster reminds me before I relent; I warned her . My sane side slides a finger between her bottom lips. Checking for moisture. It would kill me to have her desert-dry. I can’t see her face, but I’ll turn to stone if she’s horrified. Her pussy soaks my hand. A finger reveals the telltale flutters of a woman… “Fucking cumming. Jeniah, are you fucking cumming?”
“Yes. God, yes.”
It’s beautiful to see. Even better to know . I want to weep with relief, but the monster’s not having it. “Without fucking permission?” He rages. “You think you can come without permission? Do you think you’re in charge? Who’s in charge, Jeniah? Huh? Answer me.”
She’s shaking now, her body overwhelmed by sensations as I shove more fingers inside and fist her. “You are, . You are in charge.” Her words come on puffs and pants.
I pull my fingers out and smack her ass again. “Damn right. Remember that when you’re sore and aching and need to rest. Don’t forget who fucking owns you. Remember the choices I give you.” I lean down to whisper in her ear. “And the ones I don’t.”
I thrust my cock inside, and she cries out. It’s rough, but she’s wet, and I know she wants it. Her ass pushes back against me, driving into the bone while I grip her ass, adding bruises to my welts. I cleave the way through her slick velvet, and it tightens around me. I fuck her hard and fast, chasing my release.
It’s building. I’m close. I reach down, rub her clit, and tell her, “ Now , you can come.” My permission sends her screaming over the edge. I follow her, filling her with my seed.
We collapse in a heap on the bed, panting and spent. I roll off and gather her in my arms. What have I done? What the fuck did I do? The monster is gone—sated and retreated. Leaving me to clean up his shit.
“You okay?” I ask, my voice hoarse. Apologies at the ready. I’m ready to get down on my knees and fucking beg her forgiveness. “Jeniah…”
“Mmm,” she says—the one word telling me nothing.
“I’m so sorry. I’ll never do anything like that to you again. I don’t care if you have to lock me in a closet when I get out of control.” I lift her chin. “You fucking do it. Fucking shoot me if you have to. I’ll keep you safe from every asshole in the world, and that includes me. Next time you leave. Understand.”
She’s staring at me with those wide brown pools and an expression I can’t read. Plotting her escape. An escape I’ll have to give her if it’ll keep her safe. It is her choice.
“,” she finally says my name and I’m praying to God that it’s not the last time I hear it from her perfect lips. “I’m not scared of your monster. I’m scared that…” She bites her lip and my thumb retrieves it on reflex. “I’m scared that I liked it. I’m not saying every day. But if that’s who you are. If that’s the worst of you. I can take it. In fact, I hope I meet him again.” She runs a hand over her ass and smiles ruefully. “But maybe not today… or tomorrow.”
Another reason to love her. I’ve never been fucking lucky—until now. I don’t tell her because I don’t want it to influence her decision about marrying me. I don’t want her to think I’m saying it to manipulate her. She’s been manipulated enough by the people who cared about her. Instead, I show her. Turning her over. Gently this time. I blanket her butt cheeks with soft kisses. Lacing cool pecks over her inflamed welts. Pulling back, it’s not as bad as I thought it would be. I guess even in his fury; the monster knew better than to mar our girl.
“My good girl.” I say, working my way up her spine. I repeat the words, but this time, I stress the possessive. “ You’re my girl.”
“I am.” Jeniah agrees with a sleepy smile in her voice.
I lay beside her and pull her into the crook of my arm. Basking in the warmth of her body and the knowledge that she’s mine. Mine to protect, to cherish, to love. And as I drift off to sleep, I realize I’ve never been this content after one of those fucking nightmares. Usually, the smell, shock, and horror shroud me for days. All those years of therapy and talking shit out. Useless . I wrap her thigh around my waist. Curling her around my dick.
All those years. All I needed was Jeniah.
* * *
We sleep in a tangle of limbs until hunger wakes us. After eating, we return to bed. I make love to her, giving her the sweet seduction she deserves. Letting her pussy lash my face as long as she wants until my dick demands relief. Even then, I let her ride. Careful to keep any pressure off her backside.
We settle, but Jeniah surprises me when she asks, softly sighing against my neck, “What are you thinking?”
I consider deflecting, falling back on my usual habit of keeping my thoughts to myself. But after everything I’ve shared, done, it seems pointless to hold back now.
“I’m thinking about how different my life was just a few weeks ago,” I admit. “How I never imagined I could feel this… content.”
Jeniah sits up, pulling away until she’s close, but not touching. Her eyes are concerned, not for herself, but for me. My chest aches.“Do you want to tell me what happened?” She asks gently. “In your dream?”
I shake my head, not wanting to burden her with the weight of my past. But when I meet her gaze, I see nothing but patience and understanding. And suddenly, I’m tired. Tired of carrying this alone, tired of the walls I’ve built around myself.
I sigh and reach for her hand, needing the anchor of her touch, and she laces her fingers through mine without hesitation.
“When I was eleven,” I begin, my voice low. “My father used to take me and my younger brother, Lucas, to the docks. He’d be busy with business, so we’d entertain ourselves. I usually found a quiet spot to read, and Lucas… he loved to explore.” I pause, the memories washing over me. Jeniah squeezes my hand, encouraging me to continue.
“That day, I was engrossed in my book. I didn’t notice how long Lucas had been gone. And then…” I swallow hard, the words sticking in my throat. “There was an explosion. A fuel tank, they said later. I needed to save Lucas, but the heat… the flames…” I close my eyes, seeing it all again. The inferno, the chaos, the desperate screams.
“I was caught in the blast,” I continue, my voice hollow. “Severe burns over sixty percent of my body. But Lucas… God. He was only eight. They say he died on impact. But in my dreams, I hear him screaming. He calls for me. He’s looking for me. He’s always right there. So close, if I could only get to him. I could save him.” Jeniah’s breath catches, and now her other hand rests on our joined ones.
“I was in a coma for almost a month,” I say, opening my eyes to stare at the ceiling. “When I woke up, it was to a world of pain I can’t even describe—months of skin grafts, hyperbaric chambers, physical therapy. I looked like Frankenstein’s monster when the bandages finally came off. They patch-worked me together. My family had enough money to pay for the best plastic surgeons.”
I try for a wry smile, but it feels more like a grimace. “Hey, at least I got some pretty cool tattoos out of it. First kid in high school to have some.”
“,” Jeniah whispers.
“Don’t,” I say quickly, harsher than I intend. “Don’t pity me. I can’t stand that.”
“It’s not pity. It’s… God.” She shakes her head, and when she blinks, I know she’s fighting tears. “, I can’t imagine going through that. You’re incredibly strong.”
“Strong? I’m fucked up, Jeniah. I have nightmares, I can’t stand to be touched unexpectedly, and I just threw the woman I—” I cut myself off, not ready to voice that feeling yet. “I hurt you. And then later… My monster…”
“You didn’t mean to. “Now that I understand, it won’t happen again. I’ll be more careful.” She gives me another smile. It’s sturdier, which makes it more heartbreaking. “As for the other, I already told you I loved it. Getting dommed was totally on my things-to-do list.”
I stare at her, amazed by her resilience and willingness to understand. “Why aren’t you running for the hills?” I ask, only half-joking.
Jeniah’s expression softens. “Because I care about you, . All of you, scars and nightmares included.”
Her words warm something inside me, a feeling I thought had died in that explosion years ago. But there’s still something she doesn’t know. “There’s more,” I whisper. “You asked me why I agreed to marry you.”
Jeniah tilts her head, waiting for me to continue.
“After the accident, my family… they took care of everything. The medical bills, the rehabilitation, and ensuring I had the best care possible. They brought me into the family business. Gave me a purpose— forgiveness. I killed their child, but they don’t hate me. Even when I hate myself.”
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for her reaction. “I owe them everything, Jeniah. When they asked me to do this, to marry you, I couldn’t refuse. It was a way to repay them.”
I study her face carefully, seeing the moment understanding dawns. “So I’m… what? Part of your debt?” she asks, her voice small.
“No,” I say quickly, sitting up straighter. “God, no. Jeniah, you’re the best thing that’s happened to me since the accident. I agreed to this arrangement out of obligation, but being with you… it’s not a duty. It’s a gift I never expected.”
Jeniah’s eyes shine, and I squeeze her hand, marveling at how natural it feels to touch her, to be vulnerable with her. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” I murmur. “I was afraid… afraid you’d see me differently. That you’d be disgusted, or worse, that you’d feel sorry for me.”
She leans into my touch, her eyes never leaving mine. “, nothing about you disgusts me. And this doesn’t change how I see you. If anything, it makes me admire you more.”
“I don’t deserve you,” I whisper.
“You deserve happiness,” she counters. “We both do.”
I close the distance between us, kissing her softly. It’s different from our heated exchanges before—tender, almost reverent. When we part, I’m lighter somehow, as if sharing my burden with her has lifted some of the weight from my shoulders.
“Thank you,” I say in a rough voice. “For listening, for understanding. For not running away.”
“I’m not going anywhere, . We’re in this together now, remember?”
I nod and allow myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, I can have this. That the happiness I’ve found with Jeniah isn’t a reprieve.
Our happiness is real and lasting.