I cut her off, kissing her hard on the mouth, my hands still pinning hers. And felt her body respond to me, squirming underneath me. One nudge and I would be inside her. "Feel that?" I asked. "You don't think you're good for me?"
"Hammer, that's not what I..." Her voice drifted off as I paused, unmoving, the tip of my head against her entrance.
"What?" I asked. "You don't want this? All it takes is one word, and I'm gone. Say it."
She was silent, then her mouth opened, forming a little "O". I waited for her to say the word. If she did, I'd be released, back to my prior life. The life that didn't involve obsessively watching a woman who was enslaved to another man. The life that didn't involve searching for a child who might be murdered at any moment. The life that didn't involve this broken girl, the one who pulled at my heart, who gave me hope that I could do something to help her, that my desolate life had some larger purpose.
"Say it," I ordered, anger pulsing through me. "If you want me gone, fucking say it. Tell me to leave, and I'm gone."
I watched her internal struggle, and thought she was going to tell me to leave, to forbid me from seeing her again. It could be for the best, I thought. I wouldn't be dragged into something that had the potential for destruction like this had.
"Hammer," she said. She licked her lips, pressed them together. And I knew she wanted me. One hand still on her wrists, I reached for a condom.
"You want me gone?" I asked, finally letting go of her arms, kneeling as I unwrapped a condom. She didn't move, kept her arms where they'd been, as if still held there by some invisible force. Her eyes followed the movement of my hands as I rolled the condom along my length.
"No," she whispered.
"I can't hear you," I said, returning to where I'd been before, pressing the tip of my cock against her entrance, one hand on her wrists. "No, what?"
"No," she said. "I don't want you to leave." She arched her back, and her nipples brushed against my skin.
"What do you want?" I asked. I entered her, just barely, the head of my dick just inside her. I felt her squeeze her muscles, tightening herself around me and sending a jolt of arousal through my body.
"I want you inside me," she said.
That was all it took. I entered her swiftly, feeling her arch underneath me, bringing her body to meet mine. It should have been slow languid lovemaking. I should have been careful with her, gentle, tender, aware of the fact that she'd been through more shit than any woman should ever have to endure. But it wasn't. I pinned her hands above her, entwined my fingers with hers and fucked her, my movements hard.
"Oh, God," she moaned, bringing her head up to mine, seeking my lips. I kissed her, feeling her body respond even more strongly, the warmth inside her increasing as I moved. "Yes, yes."
It wasn't tender, and it wasn't romantic. But it was all I had. I looked into her eyes, as she rose higher, carried away by the rhythm of my movements. I watched her mouth part, her lips opening slightly as her breath came faster and faster.
"Oh, Hammer," she cried, the tips of her fingers kneading into the back of my hands. I could feel myself beginning to lose control, caught up in the overwhelming power of my own desire. This girl was getting to me.
Looking into her eyes, hearing her call my name, it was enough to push me over the edge. I felt the white – hot heat of my climax surge through me, taking me by surprise. "Fuck, Meia," I said. "Come with me."
She writhed under me, pressing her body hard against mine, and I heard her cry out my name as she whimpered, before she screamed. "Oh God!"
"Oh, fuck," I said, thrusting inside her one final time, before everything was eclipsed by my orgasm. I felt her muscles clench down around me, and she screamed as I thrust myself deeply inside her.
Afterword, I watch her breath return to normal, her eyes closed as she lay there beneath me. I swept a stray tendril of hair across her forehead, and felt her stir underneath me. Her eyelids fluttered open lazily, and her gaze met mine.
"Hammer," she said. "Whatever we're doing here, whatever this is, I meant what I said. I don't want to hurt you."
"I meant what I said too," I said. "It's going to take a lot more than that to scare me off."
"You might regret all of this," she said.
"Then it's my choice to regret," I said.
I brought my hand to my lips, still tasting him on me, feeling him inside me, even though it was already a day later. I knew I was becoming consumed with him, my desire for him beginning to cloud my judgment. It was dangerous, seeing him this much. I knew it, even as I asked him yesterday to meet me again, in the same hotel room.
It was a careless decision.
I looked at the men, standing in front of me, their faces blank. "I'll go voluntarily," I said, looking at the rag one of the men held in his hand. "Aston knows I'll go quietly. He has my son."
Then Aston walked into the room, stood behind the men. He didn't look at me, instead focused on his phone. "Oh," he said. "But what would be the fun in that? You have a long flight ahead of you, and I don't want you to be uncomfortable."