Torn from You(Book1_Tear Asunder)

Torn from You(Book1_Tear Asunder) by Nashoda Rose




Prologue

When I woke it was dark outside, and I was snuggled in Sculpt’s arms, sitting between his legs, his lean, hard body draped around me. His fingers slowly stroked my outer thigh while his other hand rested on my abdomen, one finger circling my belly button. I turned to look up at him over my shoulder. He was staring out across the moonlit field, observing the horses in the distance.
“Eme.” He leaned into me further and kissed the side of my neck.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. It must have been your sexy, raspy voice.” I cuddled closer, and his arm tightened. “Did you finish the song?” His guitar lay in its case next to us.
“Yeah, Mouse. It’s good.”
I sat up, excited for him. He’d told me last week that he hadn’t written anything for the band in a year. I had yet to see them play, and I was excited to hear them, but nervous too. I mean, Sculpt was six foot three and all muscle. He has what I call sexy bedroom hair, always a little messy with the odd lazy curl that falls over his face. And he had ink running down his left arm to his elbow, which made the hot a scary, badass hot. Then put in that fact that he was in a band and did some illegal underground fighting ... Well girls were no doubt all over him, and I wasn’t ready to face the reality of what dating Sculpt entailed.
We’d been hanging out ever since I asked him to help me learn how to fight a couple months ago. I was assaulted a week before I sought out Sculpt, coming home from my friend Georgie’s coffee shop where I work. I’d been so shocked and terrified that when my assaulter pushed me to the ground I just froze.
When I pulled my head out of deep freeze, I managed to bite his hand and scream my head off, which scared the guy away. After that I was on a mission to learn how to fight back. Sculpt, being an underground fighter was the perfect choice. I’d also heard he needed money to go on tour with his band, and I was willing to pay.
He never let me.
I reached up and ran my finger over the slight indent in his chin. “Can I hear it?”
He shook his head, and despite his lack of smile, because he rarely did smile, I saw the flicker of amusement in his eyes. “No, Eme. You’ll hear it with the band on stage and me singing to you.” The amusement left his eyes, and I felt him stiffen. “Did you think about what I asked?”
I knew exactly what he was referring to. I had a perpetual war in my head for the last three days—I wasn’t ready to have my heart blasted with porcupine quills when Sculpt left me to go on tour, but I also wasn’t ready to go on the road with a group of guys I hadn’t even met yet and have Sculpt responsible for me. I planned on starting college in a month. I had a life here with my best friend Kat and her brother Matt who were also my roommates and my only family.
Ever since grade school when Kat and I had started hanging out, Matt had been there for the both of us. He was eighteen and Kat ten when their parents died in a drinking and driving accident. He’d instantly become Kat’s guardian. Since I no longer had a dad, Matt sort of became the male figure in my life. I looked up to him.
I’d snuck in Kat’s bedroom window numerous times after running away from my mom’s when she brought a new boyfriend home. Matt never kicked me out, never told me to go home, nor did he call my mom. Instead, he bought me a cell phone, programmed his number in it, and told me if I ever needed to get out of my house that I was to call him, and he’d come get me.
The three of us were close and even though I didn’t want Sculpt to leave, I couldn’t see myself leaving either.
“Eme.” His arms tightened around me. “Tell me.” He shifted, easily picking me up under the arms and bringing me around so I sat facing him, my legs bent on either side of him. It was intimate, and Christ, it was hard to resist him and not just say screw it and tell him how I feel and go with him. “Eme, tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
He watched me carefully, eyes unwavering. “You know what I’m asking, but this once I’ll indulge you. Tell me you don’t want more.”
Shit. He knew I was crazy about him. I’d been trying to keep my feelings ... well hidden, somewhat. It obviously wasn’t working. I licked my lips and tried to look away, but he was ready for that and held my head between his hands.
“Eme.”
I was so not good at this. The last person I expressed my feelings to was my dad while he lay in the hospital dying of lung cancer.
“Mouse.” He leaned in, and my hands went to his upper thighs feeling the flex of his muscles beneath my palms. “Look at me.” I did. “I want you with me. I’ll look after you.” His voice lowered. “I’m not happy leaving you here, baby.”
And that was the problem; I didn’t want to be “looked after.” I’d looked after myself all my life. My mom ... I sometimes wondered if she even remembered she had a daughter.
“Emily. I don’t play games. I told you what I want, and I know you want me.”
I didn’t know whether to be pissed or laugh at his arrogance. What I did know was that I was turned on—big time. How could he do that? I mean, he was just looking at me, and yet ... his eyes abducted me. “Sculpt ... I ...”
Sculpt tightened his legs around me. “Eme.” He gripped my chin and held me steady. He waited several seconds, and I finally inhaled a shaky breath. “I’ll never hurt you. I know you’re worried about the women.” I opened my mouth to speak, but his eyes narrowed, and I shut it again. “I’m a fighter. I’m in a band. The women will always be there, but I’m with you.”
And that was the issue. Why was he with me? I wasn’t pretty, had big hips, mousey, brown hair, and my thighs were my best feature. Most guys wouldn’t say so, because I was only five foot three, and they liked the tall, skinny fawn-like legs. I liked my thighs, because I rode horses, and they were the most muscular, lean part of my body.
He stiffened, and I recognized the russet in his eyes reflect in the moonlight. I laid my hands flat on his chest feeling his beating heart beneath my touch. “Jesus, Emily, you have to bury that shit your mother tells you. I swear if she wasn’t a woman, I’d kick her ass.”
I gasped. How did he know about my mother?
“Yeah, Mouse, I know it’s swimming around in your head like a shark eating all your confidence. Do you think I don’t pay attention? I’ve asked you about your mother, and I see what it does to you. You spent most of your childhood at Matt and Kat’s. A girl doesn’t do that if her mother is something special. I’m certain yours is not. She’s put toxic shit in your head.”
“Sculpt ... I ... my ...” Yeah. I had no words. He was right. My mom was toxic, and that was why I never saw her, not that she’d remember if I did.
He tucked my hair behind my ear. It seemed so natural; I wondered if he even realized he was doing it. “We’re exploring this, Eme. I want you on tour with me.”
“I need more time, Sculpt. I can’t suddenly decide to change my life and go with you. I have school starting and Matt and Kat ...” My voice trailed off.
Silence.
“You want to train horses. Why are you wasting your time going to college taking accounting?”
We’d been through this. “Sculpt, it’s a silly dream. I need to focus on what’s real, and that is finding a career and making money.”
“You’re wrong, Eme. You should be chasing your dream.” He sighed. “I’m leaving. Next week.”
My breath hitched, and my heart felt like it had been pierced with quills, and he hadn’t even left yet. “But I thought—”
“Things have changed. We’re leaving sooner than we planned.”
I couldn’t go. God, I wanted to, but he needed to live his dream, and I had to make my own way. I never wanted him to regret being with me. Anything I wanted in life I had to reach for myself. I didn’t want someone else supporting me. One good thing I’d learned from my mother was that if I wanted anything, I had to get it myself, because she sure as hell wasn’t going to give it to me.
“Sculpt. I can’t.”
“Emily.” He lay back in the grass scowling. “You’re overthinking this.”
“But Sculpt—”
“No buts, Emily. I can’t handle any buts. I’m pissed right now.”
“But—”
He sat up again, brows lowered. “No.”
“But you’ll like my but.” I leaned toward him and nipped his chin. That got him to ease up, and his muscles relaxed.
“I already like your butt.” His hand slid down the small of my back to my ass and squeezed. It was playful, but I could still see the darkness in his eyes, and his face was hard.
“Sculpt. My but is important.”
“Yeah, Eme, it is.” I slapped him on the shoulder, and I was glad when he laughed. “Okay, what’s your but?”
“I was going to say, but ...” His brows rose. “Before you go, I want you to make love to me.” I paused, seeing his brows rise with surprise, then I pushed on quickly before I lost my nerve. “Like now, Sculpt. Right now. Here in this spot where we always hang out together. Our place. You with your guitar, and me with the horses.”
His hands that were slowly roaming, stopped squeezing my upper thighs, and he stared at me with such intensity that I was getting hot just watching him watch me. “That’s your but?”
I nodded.
“I knew I liked your butt.” He put his hands on either side of my face and met my eyes. “If you’re in my bed ... you’re not in anyone else’s. You got that, Mouse? Even if I can’t convince you in the next week to come with me—no one else’s.”
“Okay. Same goes for you.” Surrounded by women night after night would be a lot harder for him than for me.
Sculpt stroked the side of my face. “Emily. You erase the bad in my life.”
I couldn’t imagine Sculpt having any bad. He was hot, had an incredible voice, had a body that was no doubt in the dictionary under the definition of muscle, and he had sexy bedroom hair with intense, dark eyes.
He may not laugh often, but when he did it was magical and made up for all the other times he didn’t. I sensed the hardness in him, the untouchable part that he refused to let me discover, but we’d only known one another for a couple months.
His thumb caressed my lips, and the ache between my legs intensified. My stomach wasn’t just pretty little butterflies; it was a flock of Egrets taking flight.
He picked me up and set me on the grass beside him then got on his knees in front of me. He tilted forward, and I leaned back until I was resting in the grass, and he was hovering above.
My nerves were sparking off in every direction while the twinge between my legs became a spasm of aching need. I was breathing so fast that it was like I’d run a marathon.
“Have you ever been touched, Emily?”
I shook my head too breathless to respond verbally.
“If you’re not ready ... tell me now. Be damn sure about this, Eme.”
He was dead serious, and it sent a strange thrill through me. I didn’t want to wait. I wanted him here and now with the wind against my skin, being in my favorite place in the world with Sculpt. “I don’t want to wait.”
His hand swept into my hair and weaved through the strands. His fingers tightened, and he pulled back, and my breath hitched. “I’m tasting your p-ssy. Then Emily, I’m going to f*ck you until you scream. Does that make you nervous? Because you’re trembling all over.”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
“Yeah, nervous? Or yeah you’re going to scream when I sink inside of you for the first time?”
“Yeah, to all of it.” I’d wanted Sculpt since the night I met him. Needed him. It was like I had been living with anticipation for this moment my entire life. It scared the hell out me. What if I sucked at it? What if we were incompatible? What if it was awkward?
“I want you screaming and quivering. And baby, you should be nervous ... because I plan on changing your mind and having you begging me to take you on tour.” The corners of his lips twitched, and my insides lit up like a goddamn firecracker. I couldn’t help but think about what he could do to me, how I’d say goodbye when it was time for him to leave. “You’re Lego building, Emily. Rethinking your decision?”
I jerked and met his eyes. There it was—his eyes dancing with laughter and desire, a sexy combination that had me tightening my grip on his biceps.
He didn’t wait for my reply. “Too late, Mouse. You’re mine.”
He tilted his head like he always did before he kissed me, and claimed my lips. And he did claim, devour, and feed the hunger we both felt between us. Heat flowed over my skin as if the afternoon sun was beaming down on it. Little sparks tap-danced shivers through my body. There was no hesitation in what he was taking, what he wanted, and I fell into his kiss like melted butter.
His hands stroked up my sides then down again. “God, these curves.”
He groaned, and the vibration sent my heart rate spiking. My hands found their way into his hair, pulling him closer, harder. God, I needed him. It was like I was breathing for this man. It wasn’t normal. Was this normal? Did it matter?
“Sculpt.”
He took my hands and placed them above my head, locking them down with his own. “Logan. Call me Logan, Eme.”
Oh God. His name. He told me his real name. No one knew his real name. “Logan,” I said and heard him groan.
“Again.”
“Logan.”
His lips trailed succulent kisses down my throat, his teeth nipping, then his tongue licking to take away the bite. “I want you to call me that whenever we’re alone, Emily. Call me Logan.”
“Okay.” It was a whispered moan mixed with a sigh. Eyes closed, head thrown back, I edged my legs out from under him on either side and wrapped them around his hips. He grunted as I clenched, hoping to ease the ache, but all I did was make it more intense. More aware.
“Oh God, Logan, please. I need you.” We could savor and taste and discover one another the rest of the week, but right now I wanted Logan inside me. I wanted to feel him naked against me. It was like waiting at the top of a toboggan hill and being rocked back and forth before being pushed over the edge.
“I know, Mouse.” He nipped at my ear lobe then suckled, and I fought against his hands that kept me pinned to the grass.
I had to touch him, feel his skin, get rid of the clothes that separated us. “Logan, please. Clothes.”
His head came up from him kissing my collar bone. “We’re taking this slow. My way. I’ve waited too long to have you right where you are now, under me, p-ssy aching, hot and sexy as hell.”
I’d never been called sexy in my life, and it sent a shudder straight through me hearing it from Logan.
“I like to play, Emily. It’s who I am. And it’s in you too. I know you get turned on when I take control.” Did I? I wasn’t experienced enough to really know what he was talking about. “But if you’re scared of anything, I need you to say no. That’s all it takes, and we stop. Understand?”
I got what he was saying. I mean, I wasn’t oblivious to sex. I knew “play” could mean a few things, and it made me nervous and excited at the same time.
He let go of my wrists, and I put my hands on his abdomen and lifted his shirt inch by inch. Logan hovered over me, watching my eyes. I saw him suck in air and close his eyes for a second when my hands crept up his chest then slowly caressed his nipples.
I kept my eyes on him, loving his reaction. Loving how my touch was driving him crazy. My fingertips traced every muscle on his chest then down to his abdomen. Every contour was a new mountain for me to explore. I was panting, and Logan had his eyes closed and was breathing harder than I was.
“Shirt, Logan.” I lifted it upward, and he succumbed to my bribe and threw off his shirt. My hands went to the button on his jeans, and he grabbed my hands and stilled them.
“No. I let you play so you could relax. Now it’s me.” Within seconds he had my shirt up, over my head, and his fingers were working at my bra. The snaps gave, and my breasts fell from their confines into his hands. “Emily.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
He lowered his body, and then his tongue circled my nipple while his hands caressed my side, down to my hip then back up again to tease my breasts. My body was exploding with sensations, pain as he bit my nipple, then pleasure as he suckled sweetly and licked the sensitive skin with heated moisture.
I gripped his hair, eyes closed and body arching into him as he sent me into a furnace of heat. Getting myself off to him over the last couple months couldn’t even begin to compete with the real thing.
He moved lower, soft kisses trailing down my chest to my stomach. “This. And this.” He slid his hand to my hip. “I love everything about your body.” His kisses went further, and my body was already anticipating him. Ache was no longer a word associated with what he was doing to me; it was much, much more than that.
My hands curled in the grass, and I moaned as his fingers undid my jeans.
The button popped.
The slow descend of my zipper drove me crazy.
The sound was agonizing, because I wanted him to rip them off and plunge deep inside of me, hard and fast. But Logan wanted to do this slowly. Relish every moment, and yet, I was dying for him.
“Logan.” My whispered moan was met with a muffled, “Christ” as I felt his fingers reach in my jeans and go lower. And lower until—
I stiffened, sucking in air.
“You’re wet.”
Well, yeah, I’d been wet for two-and-half months. Logan turned me on just by looking at me. I ran my hands through his hair. “I’ve been wet since the day I met you, Logan.”
His head came up, and his eyes widened. God, he had to have known how much I wanted him.
“Jesus, Emily.” He was kissing me again, hands curled into my hair, and his mouth hard against mine. There was no breathing, no thinking, just pure hunger.
He raised his head, both of us breathing hard, his sexy bedroom hair falling in front of his right eye while he looked at me with haunted openness. “I’m not letting you go.”
I cupped his cheek with my shaking hand, my thumb stroking across his stubble. “Don’t ever hurt me.”
“Never.” He sat up then moved down me as he grabbed the edges of my jeans and pulled. I lifted my butt, and my panties came with the denim.
He stopped at mid-thigh. “Beautiful. And shaved. That is a ... surprise.”
I did have a small, what they call, landing strip, but the rest was waxed clean—Brazilian. I’d never liked hair down there, and Logan liking it—it made me giddy inside.
His fingertip ran down the small patch of hair, and I gasped as he spread the folds then slipped into the wetness.
“Logan, oh God,” I arched my back, trying to bend my knees but unable to because of my jeans trapping my legs. “Jeans, Logan. Jeans.”
“Wait.” He continued to enjoy caressing my * until I screamed and panted, then when he felt me close to the edge, he backed off and went further down to circle my opening.
I wanted him inside me so bad that I was arching up to meet him until he put his hand on my stomach and forced me to stay down.
He put two fingers on either side of my folds, slid through the wetness then hesitated at my opening.
“Logan. Please.”
“Beg me.”
“Logan.”
“Emily.”
“Please, Logan. I’m begging you.”
He plunged two fingers partly inside, and I inhaled sharply at the sudden assault. It grabbed me. Held me. It didn’t let go.
He pulled out, and I cried out with disappointment only to be met with a quick kiss on the top of my *. Then he tore my jeans off the rest of the way and lay between my legs.
“Bend your knees.”
I did.
“Open.”
I did that too. I trusted him implicitly and him taking control felt like it was fulfilling a need in me to surrender to him. I was able to forget everything and bask in whatever pleasure he gave me.
He gently pushed them a little wider still, and I closed my eyes and bit my lip as I felt the first suckle on my *. Oh God. The sensations inside me were so heightened that I knew I wasn’t going to last more than a few minutes with Logan’s mouth on me. Never had I imagined it being like this. I moaned, arching my back as Logan’s tongue slipped inside me.
Gripping the grass on either side of my head, I groaned as he worked magic with his tongue through the folds, tasting the wetness then suckling my * again. The pressure in my abdomen ached, built, and was cresting. I tensed. So, so close to the edge, nearly pushed off the hill.
He stopped. “Not yet, baby.”
Oh God, how could I do that? “Logan, I can’t. I can’t hold—”
“You will.” His voice was rough and demanding, and it made me even hotter. His fingers pushed inside me, but never all the way. “So tight.”
He pumped in and out of me several times then licked me again. “Your p-ssy is perfect. I knew you’d taste this way. You’re made for me, Emily.”
“Logan,” I panted, every muscle tightening. “Please. I need you inside me now.”
He pulled his fingers from me, and then I watched as he licked them off one by one. I nearly came just watching him. The way his eyes glued to mine as if he could see right into me. How the curve of his mouth partially crept up to a smile as he tasted me.
It was him. Everything he did, I adored. How he walked with confidence, not a swagger, but when he came into a room it was with presence. How he was chasing his dream with his band, willing to take all the money he had to try and make it in a business that was saturated with great bands. He took risks because he had faith in himself. How he didn’t take shit from anyone. How he put all of himself into whatever he was doing. But most of all, I loved how he looked at me and saw everything I am and could be.
“Are you on something?”
I nodded. “The pill. To control my ovulation pain.”
“I’m clean. I was checked two weeks after I met you and have been with no one since.”
He’d been with no one. He went and got checked? Was it because he thought ... was he thinking about us?
“Yeah, Emily. I wanted to make sure I was good before I ever touched you, condom or not.”
Wow. “I want you inside me, Logan. I want to feel all of you.”
He leaned to the side and yanked off his jeans. I glanced down before he moved on top of me and glimpsed his erection—pulsating, huge—and wondered how the hell that was fitting inside me. Before I could start Lego building and scaring myself, I reached between us and touched him.
“Eme,” he murmured as my fingers curled around him then stroked every inch of him.
His penis was throbbing and hot, and as I caressed, his eyes closed, and his head tilted back as he groaned.
“Stop. F*ck. I’m going to come before I’m even inside you.” He grabbed his cock and rubbed it between my legs, the wetness clinging to him. “I’ll go slow, Mouse.”
My hand reached up to lock my fingers in his hair. “No, go fast. Just get that part over with.”
“No.” His voice was hard and firm. “You’re going to remember this and not with pain.” His mouth descended as he sunk lower, his cock nudging my opening.
Wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his back, I pressed upward with my hips, and the tip pressed against my barrier. I couldn’t get him in any further, and my body was aching so bad I was going to scream.
He tore his mouth away from mine and grabbed my chin. “Look at me, Emily. I want to see you when I take you. I want to watch you while you scream my name.”
“Logan.”
He pushed his hips forward and moved in me a little further. I could feel him stretching my hymen, and I was sure he could too. He gripped my chin to make certain I didn’t move then rotated his hips and withdrew, and I moaned.
“Slow, Eme.”
He moved inside me again, and this time he kept going until I felt a sudden sharp pain as if he’d stabbed me.
F*ck. Shit. It hurt.
And yet ... him erect and full inside me was ... it was so connecting and surreal. As if we’d become one.
He leaned in and kissed me while he was sunk deep inside. A slow languished kiss that had me forgetting about the pain and instead filling me with a new urgency. I wanted him to move.
“Logan.” God, I needed him to move. I pushed upward, and he sunk even deeper. Yes, God yes.
“You good?”
The tenderness was overridden by the aching need. I nodded, and he began to move. I clenched my legs around him, ankles crossed on his back, both of us panting, our eyes locked on one another.
“You’re mine, Emily.” He moved harder, faster, and I tried to close my eyes, but he grabbed my chin. “Look at me.”
Each push brought us closer; I was on edge, ready, the ache heightened to a place it could go no further. He pressed his hips in an upward motion so he rubbed against my *, and a jolt went through me, then another and another. The intense building inside was too much.
He pressed harder.
“Oh God. Logan. Logan.” I let go, my eyes squeezing shut. “Logan!” I screamed as everything in my body exploded into tiny bursts.
“Emily.” He pumped harder, the smack of flesh on flesh loud. He thrust deeper. Then he took my mouth with an insane hunger as his body stopped pumping, and his muscles tightened while his body shook.
“Mouse.” He fell to the side and brought me with him so I was snug to his chest, my legs tangled within his. “Emily. You’re a f*ckin’ trophy. My trophy.”
I closed my eyes, head resting on his chest next to my hand.
He leaned upward and kissed my head while his hand stroked up and down my arm. His other hand linked with my fingers on his chest.
“Logan?”
“Yeah, baby.”
“Um, someone is watching us.”
Logan looked up, and we both started laughing as the appaloosa stared down at us.