All I can do is nod mutely, and she smiles down at me. “Garrett, you noticed before any of them that I flinch when someone moves too fast. You know why, right? I’m betting you have worked it out or they have told you.”
“Your dad.” I nod, wishing I killed the bastard when I had the chance.
“My dad.” She nods and smiles bitterly. “The first time I had sex after…” She swallows. “It was hard, it was my first time, it was supposed to be amazing, but we were drunk, and all I kept seeing every time he grabbed me was my dad. It was over quickly, and I cried and walked home. It got better, I learned to block it out. I got good at it, at handling my reactions. It took a lot of years, fuck, I still flinch now. I still have nightmares, it doesn’t just go away—trauma sticks with you every day of your life. But we have a choice whether to let it control or destroy us. I decided neither, because that way he wins. That sounds stupid and conceited, like I just simply decided one day, but I did. I was tired of being afraid, so even now when shit terrifies me, when I get flashbacks or nightmares or react wrongly…I choose how to deal with it. Me. No one else, because they can’t understand how I’m feeling in the moment. No one else can. Healing isn’t easy, sweetheart. In some ways, it’s worse than the actual…abuse, and you will have setbacks and get disheartened, but it’s worth the try. Otherwise, you’re still caught in those memories, still fighting for survival…”
“I’m tired of fighting,” I admit, and she grins.
“Me too. So if I do shit wrong, if I trigger you or anything, speak. Let me know. Let us know how we can help in any way, because they want to. Your brothers, they are reaching for you, trying to understand how they can protect you. Help you. As am I. You have to decide whether you can let us.”
“I need to do this alone,” I mutter.
“I know, but we’re here,” she whispers, “and sometimes that’s enough, or maybe I’m just half asleep and rambling.”
I chuckle, and she grins.
“Want to watch a movie or something?”
“No, I really fucking don’t,” I snap, and her face drops. As she’s about to shift away, I dart my hand out, slower than I normally would so she can see it coming, tangle it in her hair, and yank her to me. She gasps as I slam my lips to hers. I freeze at first, unused to contact, but when she starts to move against me with a moan, I can’t help but grunt and kiss her.
She whimpers into my mouth as I sweep my tongue between her lips and tangle it with hers. The kiss is desperate and raw, filled with a need so strong, I can’t help but imagine her lips around my cock. But then she drops onto my lap, obviously tired of holding herself up, and I freeze.
I wonder if she can taste the fear on my lips, fear that this will disappear and become just another dream, and I’ll go back to wanting her from afar. Craving her with desolation running through my mind.
The pressure of her on me, above me.
Fuck.
I don’t even remember moving, but when I blink, she’s pinned on the bed beneath me and I’m snarling at her. Horrified at myself, I scramble away. “Fuck, sorry, fuck.”
I can’t bear to look at her, but her hand lands lightly on my shoulder, unafraid even after I tried to hurt her yet again. “It’s okay, was it the kissing or me being on you?”
“Fuck, Rox, why does it matter?” I snap, as I scrub my face. “You being on me,” I whisper sadly. “She-she was on top when she did this.” I gesture at my chest. “I was tied down, unable to move or escape.”
“And me being on you—” She sighs. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Garret.”
“Yeah, me too, I’m fucked up,” I growl.
She goes quiet then, and I turn to her, suddenly angry with myself—with my past, with women, with my own fucking need that I can’t goddamn sate. “I’m fucking sick of this shit, of being fucking hard and unable to touch you. I want to fuck you so badly it hurts. I wake up coming on my own goddamn stomach imagining you beneath me, me pounding into you. Those screams you give the others in my ears.” I shake my head, slamming my fist into my chest. “I want you so fucking badly. How can you sit there so calmly?” I almost yell.
Chest heaving, I stare at her as she sits up and crosses her legs, her eyes going faraway. “In your dreams, am I below you?” she asks.
“What the fuck does that matter?” I snarl, my hand circling her throat, squeezing as I bring her closer, but she doesn’t fight it.
“I’m just thinking. If you really want this, like I do, why don’t we try me below you? Hell, you could even tie me down!” She shrugs.
I revolt at that, and she smiles. “Babe, I like to be tied, don’t stress. If you tie my hands, I can’t reach you, I can’t touch you, and you might feel more in control. Like when you tied my hands when you fucked my mouth.”
I growl at that, and her eyes darken, dropping to my cock with desire. “Only this time, you fuck me for real, like we both want.”
“Roxy—” I start, and she grins.
“I bet Diesel has chains.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Whatcha think, big guy, wanna give it a go?”
My eyes trail down her body. “I’ll try anything if I get to fuck you.”
She laughs then. “That’s the spirit.”
She goes to get up, but I keep her there, slowly leaning in and kissing her, to prove to her and myself I can. She moans into my mouth as I squeeze her throat before letting her go. She gets up with a snigger, and I smack her ass, making her laugh harder as she slips from the room. Two minutes later, I hear a yelp and then Diesel laughing.
Eyebrow arched, I watch her come back to my room and shut the door, chains in hands and face flushed. “I thought I would try and scare him in his sleep like he does me, it didn’t work.”
I laugh. “What did he do?”
“Slapped me with his cock.” I gawk and then burst into laughter. She grins but props her hand on her hip. “Seriously, Garrett, whose first thought is to slap an intruder with their cock?” She throws her hands in the air.
“He probably knew it was you, also, it would certainly stop me if I was trying to kill or rob him.” I grin.
“Men.” She shakes her head and comes closer before stopping hesitantly. “Do you need me to chain myself to the bed, or I can get Diesel so you don’t have to.” She looks down at the chains. I do as well, waiting for them to set me off, but they don’t
“No, I think I’m okay, she-she used a rusted chain from outside, that was—”
“An actual restraint.” She nods, understanding. She reaches out and drops them into my hand and waits. I do too, but when nothing happens, I narrow my eyes at her.
“On the bed, face up, now,” I snarl, my desire taking hold. If this works…
Fuck. I can finally have her.
See her screaming beneath me while I fuck her tight little pussy.
Her eyes flash like she knows my thoughts. Stepping back, she sheds the tiny shorts and top she was sleeping in, leaving her naked, and all I can do is stare. She’s stunning, all soft creamy skin coated in scars and tattoos, thick thighs, full breasts, and a snake gleaming in her belly button.
I almost come there and then.
“Bed. Now,” I order, making her grin. She saunters closer and climbs onto the bed, swaying her ass at me as she climbs to the headboard, making me groan and reach out to run my hand across a peachy cheek. For another day, I always was an ass man.
She wiggles her ass again, so I bring the chain down across it lightly, causing her to gasp and jerk. She tumbles forward and flips, her hair spread across my pillow and her eyes blown with lust. She parts her thighs unashamedly to show me her pink, glistening pussy as she lifts her hands above her head and presses them together. Her breasts jiggle with the movement, drawing my gaze. Crawling closer, I kiss each one as I reach for her hands, locking them in place around my headboard with the chains before sucking one of her nipples into my mouth.
She moans loudly, arching into my touch as I pop it free and do the same to the other before sitting back and looking at the pink peaks. Her chest rises and falls quickly, her face flushed, the blush creeping down her throat to her chest as I just sit back and stare at her. I can’t remember ever seeing anything as beautiful before.
My hands are scarred and blood-stained, her flesh too perfect to touch, but I will. I’ll dirty her with them, with the very hands I kill people with, because I can’t not.
Gripping her legs, I pull them farther apart so I can look at her pussy, memorising it. My lips tingle with the need to taste her, to see if she is as sweet as she looks, so opposed to her usual attitude. “Did you forget how to do it? Dick in hole,” she taunts, making me growl and dig my hands in deeper.
“Watch your mouth.”
“Or what? Will you fuck it again?” She grins, lifting her hips enticingly. “Is that a promise?” she whispers hoarsely.
Motherfucker.