My fingers tremble as I wrap them around his hand.
“I thought at twenty years old, a basement would be nothing more than a room. But some basements are rooms, and some are prisons. The only difference between the two is what I bring inside.”
Tears gather on my lower lashes. Squeezing his hand, I bring it to my lips and press a kiss to his bruised knuckles.
“I went in the box once, then never again. Any fight I got into, I didn’t start. Any energy I needed to burn found an outlet that didn’t involve anyone else. Flat hands, my shrink called it.” He turns to me so his silver eyes can sear into mine. “I won’t go back into the box, Isabella. I stopped once; I can stop again.”
“I believe you,” I whisper, brushing my thumb over the top of his knuckles.
“I’m not leaving you again. I promise you. This is it. Tomorrow’s win will set us up for the whole year. Just trust me, okay?”
“I do.”
Chapter 26
ISABELLA
Heat licks at the base of my spine, seeping desire into my bloodstream. An ache grows slow and needy in my core, building faster with every second and spreading along my every inch like wildfire. It’s a blinding spotlight within the darkness, calling me closer.
I’m chasing it, but it’s not enough.
More.
I need more.
My body moves, searching for release while debauched noises escape past my lips. I’m too delirious to figure out what sound I made or to be embarrassed.
I know it’s cold—the type of cold that makes my nipples hurt. But it’s confusing. I don’t know how or why, but the bottom half of my body is warm, and my blood is on fire. I can’t stop moving. It feels too good to stop. The light is right there. It’s so close. Just a little more and I can reach it. I have to reach it.
My body takes over, attempting to move my hands to my center and take what I need. Yet, I… I don’t move. I try again, but my hands, they’re… stuck?
Pleasure curls through me, forcing me to shiver, even though my hands are still fixed together.
Frowning, I twist my wrist to try to get free. But the more I twist my wrists, the more they burn. Not the pleasant kind of burn. It’s more like the pain that came from the ropes Mickey tied around my—
My eyes snap open. I try to sit forward, but I’m yanked back in place by my wrists. With labored breaths, I blink back the lust-filled haze over my vision, focusing on the shapes hidden within the darkness. Out of pure reflex, I start tugging at the ropes, pulling this way and that, but my hands are still fastened to the wooden headboard.
“Don’t bother,” a gravelly voice rumbles from the shadows. It’s the type of sound I’d imagine coming from the monster hidden in the corner of the room. “You’re not getting away from me now, Bella. You’re mine to do with as I please.”
I gasp, whipping my head toward the sound, blinking once, twice, three times. It doesn’t matter how long I stare; the sight in front of me doesn’t change, but my body does. The rose-tinted film falls back into place and my veins thrum with desire because it isn’t just any monster waiting to devour me whole. It’s my monster.
I’m completely bare from the neck down, covered only by the arms curled around my thighs and the head nestled between them. His tongue circles my clit, and I can’t help the guttural moan that leaves me as euphoria edges closer. “Mickey, what are you doing?” I pant into the darkness.
“I couldn’t wait anymore. I’m starving.” The sound of Roman’s strained voice sends a jolt of electricity to each atom of my being.
Light streams through the curtains, casting a hazy glow over his deadly features, highlighting his strong nose and glistening eyes. Light catches on his stubble and the wet glaze covering his chin and mouth.
Ares, Roman, Mickey, whatever he wants to be called, is absolutely stunning.
“You’re my pretty little toy, aren’t you?”
“What?” I gasp. The degradation should be upsetting, not making me wetter with each word that comes out of his mouth.
A shiver rolls through me when his tongue descends upon my entrance. I arch into his touch, my body set on chasing the high.
“I could do whatever I want to you, and you’ll be soaking wet, begging for it. Do you know why?”
Shadows fall across his face, accentuating the lethal edge of his sharp cheekbones. My hips chase after him when he tugs my soft flesh between his teeth. The sensation is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before, a whisper of pain, followed by a flicker of pleasure. His tongue plunges into my entrance with so much brutality that I feel the splinters of his sadistic movements all the way to the back of my throat. Then on the cusps of his torment, when I think I can’t take anymore, he kisses me like I am the most delicate thing on earth. As if I’m something to be cherished, but broken. Loved, but hate fucked. Pretty, but ruined.
“Because you’re mine, Bella. Perfectly made for me. My personal little princess to fill, to fuck, and to… eat.” He drags his tongue along my center, forcing me to shudder. “This pretty pussy of yours belongs to me.”
If he keeps going, I won’t have control over the sounds I make. My inner thighs are begging me to close them for a reprieve from Roman’s relentless attack. It doesn’t matter how hard I try to wiggle my hips away or move my legs to lessen the pain. He has me in an iron grip. Even if he didn’t, I’d still be stuck, legs spread wide and at his mercy. A pair of silken ropes wind around my ankles and the bedposts, baring my pussy to him and the cold air at all times.
The scene before me is concerning on so many different levels. The first is how he managed not to wake me while arranging me like a rag doll. The second is how hot my blood runs at the thought of him tying me up like an object designed to fulfill his desires, then eating me like I’m a delicacy to be savored. The third concern? The fact that I want none of this to stop, even though every part of my rational brain is telling me to say the word that will end this.
Even more messed up is that I might start getting excited for bed because of what might happen while I sleep. I’m his for the taking. He knows it, my body knows it, and it’s just my mind that hasn’t gotten with the program.
For years, he lived another life while I was fast asleep and oblivious. Whether it’s his intention or not, it feels like he’s telling me that he’ll always keep my bed warm. He’s shared the other side of him with me, and it’s as if he’s promising that we’ll do everything together. Maybe it’s all wishful thinking, but I truly believe that promise is our new reality.
Mickey’s hot breath fans my center as he groans, “Fuck, you taste so good.” I yelp when he bites the inside of my thigh. “I told you I’d make you scream again.”
“I’m sore,” I whimper as he continues lapping at me. It’s nothing more than a dull ache, but if he fucks me, the pain will outweigh pleasure.