16. Scarlet #2
“I’ll tell you something… I feel more alive right now than I have in too long.
The way I felt that night we met.” In a flash, he reached out, taking me by the wrist and placing my hand over his chest. His heart thudded wildly under my palm.
“Feel that? So maybe I am doing it for fun, after all. And what does that say about me? Why did you have to stay up and wait for me to come back?”
He held my hand in place with one of his, reaching out to cup the back of my head with the other.
If only his touch didn’t undo me like it did.
My heart was pounding, too, but warm relief flowed over me at the same time.
I was in the middle of a giant game of tug-of-war, getting pulled between fear and desire, knowing I shouldn’t want him but unable to stop.
“Don’t you see?” His soulful eyes searched mine, darting over my face and leaving me feeling exposed. “I don’t want to hurt you. Don’t you get it?”
“Then don’t hurt me.” Reaching up, I touched my hand to his face, my fingers trailing over his scar. He leaned into my touch ever so slightly, his eyes closing while he released a shuddering sigh.
But it didn’t last long before his eyes snapped open again, blazing bright. He tipped my head back to align his mouth with mine. “I’m not sure if I can help it,” he gritted out. “I’m not sure there’s anything I can ever give you but regret.”
When he claimed my mouth again, my soul sang. This was all I wanted—to melt against him, to give myself to him, to be here, his refuge after going out into the world and fighting a battle because of me.
That was why, instead of pushing him away, I pulled him in by his shirt collar, parting my lips, stroking his tongue with mine.
The thrill of it was almost enough to curl my toes long before he pushed me backward until my legs hit the bed.
I dropped onto it while he yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it aside.
I worked his belt, opening it quickly, unbuttoning his jeans, and lowering his zipper so they would fall to his knees.
He was already growing, thickening, and I looked up from under my lashes to lock eyes with him as I lowered the waistband of his boxer briefs.
He took the back of my head again, massaging and gripping forcefully at the same time, his touch both sensual and demanding. “You know how much I need you?” he muttered, putting pressure on me, pulling me closer to his swollen head.
My pussy went hot and wet as I wrapped my fingers around him and guided him to my tongue.
The first taste of salty precum unleashed a deep, primal yearning for more.
I took him inside my mouth, savoring every grunt and soft sigh coming from him.
In the middle of everything—all the confusion, the worrying, the fear—this was what we could come back to.
Even when he was lost in darkness, we could find each other here. I could bring him back to the light.
“More, baby,” he growled, holding my head, breathing faster with each stroke of my tongue against his underside.
I loosened my throat to let him in deeper, holding him by his hips once he started to move them, to work his way in and out.
All I wanted was to touch him, to be near him, to give him this if nothing else.
But it didn’t take long for the energy to shift, for his strokes to become more demanding, for his hand to hold me tighter, almost pulling my hair.
“Stay still,” he grunted, unleashing a flurry of quick, sharp thrusts.
It was hard not to gag, but I held on, taking everything he gave, even though my lungs begged for air and my head started to spin.
I held on. I wanted to show him I could.
But finally, he pulled back, and I could breathe, sagging a little. “You like that?” he asked, taking my face in his hands, gazing down at me. My breath caught at the sight of the swirling anger, pain, and confusion in his eyes.
His thumb ran over my lips, and I parted them again, taking it inside, grazing him with my teeth.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he whispered, stroking my cheeks before his gaze hardened, his jaw tightened, and something shifted again.
The anger bubbled up. I felt it in the way his touch changed.
What was soft suddenly became demanding.
I gasped in surprise when he yanked me to my feet, then spun me in place and bent me over the bed. My heart pounded in my ears as confusion swept through me. What is happening?
He opened the nightstand drawer behind me, and I knew he was looking for a condom while, with his other hand, he pulled down my pants and thong.
His large, strong hand ran over my ass, caressing and stroking before raking his fingers across my flesh like two sides of him were fighting for domination.
"This is going to be rough, baby. Are you with me? I need to hear you say it."
“Yes.” I breathed almost too fast, anxiety and excitement clawing at my skin.
The foil packet ripped, and moments later, I knew which part of him had won when he impaled me in one deep, unforgiving thrust that pushed me forward.
His hands found my hips, and he yanked me back hard enough to pull a yelp from deep in my chest.
“Is this what you wanted?” He slammed into me hard enough to knock the wind out of my lungs and make my head spin. “Is this what you stayed up for? For this?” Another thrust, then another, forcing me along the thin line between pain, pleasure, excitement, and danger.
No, I didn’t stay up for this, but now I was glad I had.
My mind was in a panic, wondering what he would do next and whether I wanted him to do it, but my body?
My body sang, screamed out, craved more.
“Yes, yes,” I urged, clawing at the sheets when I couldn’t claw at his body.
This was what I needed without knowing it.
The excuse to let go of all the questions, fears, and doubts.
I gritted my teeth and growled through them while he took me hard, fast.
“Fuck!” he panted, pushing me down with a hand on my upper back, holding me still so he could have his way.
There was nothing for me to do but take it while I moaned helplessly.
Heat scaled my back as goose bumps rose on my skin.
His deep, guttural grunts reached deep down and touched part of me nobody ever had.
Knowing I could undo him the way he undid me.
“Grayson…” I whimpered, twisting my head to look at him over my shoulder.
His handsome face was a mask as hard as what moved inside me—teeth gritted, jaw tight, eyes narrowed.
Deadly. He hurt somebody tonight and might have wanted to hurt me now.
He had to settle for fucking me like an animal, grunting, sweating, and moving faster all the time.
Our eyes met. I held his gaze, panting for breath, wanting him to know what he was doing to me. How I needed this. Him.
“Come for me.” The hand on my hip found its way between my legs, where my aching clit begged to be touched. Just when I thought I couldn’t take more, he proved me wrong, strumming my bundle of nerves and breaking my sanity because, oh my God, it was all so good, too good. I was going to explode.
“Yes! Oh…. God!” I had to press my face to the bed to muffle a scream before shattering around him. He pulled me back one last time and held me there, locked with him, roaring out his release while I was lost in mine.
What a shame it couldn’t last forever. I was still quivering and trying to catch my breath when he slid away. I couldn’t see his face, so I didn’t know what he was thinking or feeling. The uncertainty made me hesitate before rolling over.
Indecision. That was what I saw once I found the courage to look him in the eye after he took me so forcefully.
His brows were drawn together, his jaw ticking while he scanned my face.
“What is it?” I whispered, instinctively pulling the blankets around me to ward off a sudden chill.
Was it the temperature in the room or my confusion over him?
He blinked, then shook his head. “Nothing. I just remembered something else I have to do.”
“Tonight?” I asked with a sinking heart. “Can’t you stay?”
Reaching out, he ran a hand over my hair.
There was unspeakable tenderness behind it, the opposite of the rough, brutal attitude he showed before.
His voice had lost its brittle edge, too, now the deep, velvet growl I first melted over.
“I’ll never get to sleep if I don’t do it now.
But I’ll be back. I promise.” After a firm but quick kiss against my forehead, he returned to the bathroom.
This time, he closed the door while water splashed, and I sat on the edge of the bed feeling like I had been run over by a truck, wrapping the blankets tighter around me to make up for the warmth I craved from him. My heart ached for him to hold me.
Instead, he was dressed again when he opened the door and grazed me with a sweep of his eyes before heading toward the door.
“Where are you going?” I asked with a sob lodged in my chest.
He hesitated before looking my way. Something brought him back to where I sat, feeling forlorn.
Taking my face in his hands, he murmured, “I promise. It won’t take long.
” The stroking of my cheeks with his thumbs was no substitute for the answer he never offered.
I wasn’t allowed to know where he was going.
“It’s all right,” I lied. Be brave. Don’t let him see how it hurts.
Even though he was kinder now, almost tender, tears stung behind my eyes.
Maybe they were there because I knew how good he could be.
If it wasn’t for me dragging him into this nightmare, he could have gone on being the person he wanted to be instead of this version of himself, fighting between darkness and light. “I’ll be here.”
What choice did I have? I was sort of stuck and not only in the suite. My heart was stuck on him and always would be.