“I don’t want your surprises. I want you to let me go.”
Thick brows furrowed over intense eyes filled with determination. “That’s not gonna happen.”
I turned my back to him, thinking how the eyes of someone so rotten to the soul shouldn’t hold so much beauty. The weight of his scrutiny followed me into the bathroom. After I took care of business, I deliberated removing my clothing, but self-preservation won the battle. The thought of igniting his wrath made the decision for me. I took my time undressing, then glanced down at my breasts with a cringe. Fading bruises and crisscrossed welts covered my skin in a grotesque mural of purple and yellow. I feathered my fingers over the marks of his rage, and my feet refused to move, as if they sensed the pain waiting for me. But stalling would only delay the inescapable. I had no way out.
I returned to him, avoiding eye contact, and folded my arms to hide my breasts. Not fighting him seemed wrong. I had nothing left to lose and everything to gain with my freedom.
“Bend over the bed.”
I gave a swift shake of my head.
In three strides, he grabbed my arms before hauling me across the room. I dug in my heels, pulled against his strength, but in the end he shoved me against the bed. “This is happening, Lex. Bend the fuck over and hold still, or I’ll beat the fight out of you.”
I went limp under the threat. My breasts flamed with the memory of his strikes, as if the wounds were hours old instead of a few days. Even now, each sharp bite of his switch ghosted through me. It hadn’t been a paddle to my ass, a punch to my gut or face, or a slap or bite. He’d lost his mind when he’d wailed on my body with that stick. I bent over the mattress, gripped the bedding, and waited, hoping he’d fuck me instead of beat me.
No warning. He pushed a finger in my ass, and I shrieked from the scorching burn of dry skin forcing entry into my rectum. He splayed one hand on my back, holding me in place while his finger stilled in my hole. “Don’t move.”
“Ow! What are you doing?”
“In a few minutes, you won’t give a shit what I’m doing.” He burrowed his finger in deeper, intensifying the sting. I let out a wail, terrified he was about to rape me anally.
“Please don’t do this!” My voice trembled so badly, the words came out wobbled and unrecognizable. Every spark of my being told me to flee, yet my body wouldn’t jump into motion. He didn’t have to threaten bodily harm—he’d already beaten the fight out of me the other night, when he’d drawn blood with his switch.
“Zach?” His name fell from my lips with uncertainty, an inquiry that sounded far off. A strange heat wave flushed my skin, and my pulse thumped at my throat. A flood of…something washed over me, making my head swim. I couldn’t explain or describe it, but my surroundings held new meaning. Fear evaporated, and things that were previously hidden, like the gold strands in the pattern of the bedspread or the knots in the walls, sprouted in a burst of vibrancy. Like a rosebud unfurling its petals in slow motion. I licked my lips and tasted the air. God. Nothing had ever fired up my taste buds so good.
The pressure in my ass subsided, but I remained sprawled on the bed, held captive by the details burgeoning around me.
Zach helped me stand, and the ground wobbled, the room warping in a blur…it was the most amazing feeling in the world. I didn’t care if I tipped. I was one with the floor, the hardwood incredibly smooth against the soles of my feet. He brushed me from behind, and I moaned at the velvety texture of his skin. Silk covered my eyes, so fluid it could have been milk, and cast me into a pit of sinfully dark bliss.
“Zach?” The name was wrong, and it rang through my ears, causing a hint of fear, but mostly a question, one I couldn’t formulate verbally.
What had he done to me?
“Shhh, it’s okay. Just feel me. Feel how much I want you. How much you want me.”
A whirl of air caressed my nakedness, and his breath feathered over my parted mouth. I inhaled his heady scent, like decadent chocolate, and darted my tongue out to lick the richness of his lips. Mmm…lips. I reached forward and thrust my tongue between them.
A groan rumbled from his throat. He commanded my tongue, sucked me in so far I fell into the cavity of his mouth. I pictured my body curled in a ball, as precious as a pearl and enclosed in slick heat, buoyed by his tongue.
“Baby, I need you.” His hands fell on my shoulders, two heavy weights I welcomed. I buckled to his demand, and my knees kissed the floor. His fingers crept up my neck, slid into my hair. Every inch of my skin came alive from the follicles of my scalp to the rough pads of my heels.
I purred under his caress. “Do that again.”
“This?” He repeated the motion, his fingertips dancing over my skin like a ballerina. I hummed the music that matched the steps, imagining my fingers flying over piano keys. The dance peaked at my chin and tilted me upward to greet the soft, wet mushroom seeking entrance to my mouth. My hum vibrated against the silky tip, and I envisioned the notes as colors, spirals of reds that glowed incandescent.
His moan mixed with the symphony. Rafe and I, we were creating a masterpiece.
His name echoed though my head, a tick, a glimmer of truth, as if that single thought was trying to tell me something.
“Love my cock.”
Rainbows of color swirled behind my eyes. In the darkness, I found freedom. Found the most unbelievable ecstasy possible. I parted my mouth, and when he pushed in, my pussy tingled, letting loose liquid fire between my thighs. I fastened my lips around his shaft, never tasting anything so sweet, and continued humming my notes, vibrating my masterpiece around the hardened silk filling my mouth.
What was that sound coming from him? Guttural, painful, sexy. I felt that low groaning in the flutter of my racing heart, the sweat on my back, deep in my belly where the ballerinas practiced pirouettes. My tongue lapped and lapped. I couldn’t get enough of his taste, his texture.
This was madness. I’d never be able to stop. I sucked harder, pulled his tip into my throat, and gagged.
Holy hell. I drew him further down and gagged again.
I choked on his cum, thrown off by the nickname, but it was so flavorful, like nothing I’d ever sampled before. I didn’t want to miss a drop. He withdrew, and I whimpered, following with my tongue, still lapping. Lapping, lapping, lapping. Still tasting, still needing.