Page 33

It could be the drugs, it could be anything making her say that, and right now I don’t care enough to investigate it further. She said she wants me, that’s enough for me.

I smile, leaning in to kiss her again. This time she kisses me back with a passion that matches my own, her body pressing against mine, her hands exploring, learning, trusting.

I roll her onto her back, my body covering hers. I can feel her heart pounding against my chest, her breath coming in quick gasps.

I want to devour her.

To claim her as mine.

My hands explore her body, tracing the curves and dips, the softness and the strength. She’s a fucking masterpiece, a symphony of silk and steel. I want to learn every inch of her, every secret, every scar. I want to know her, all of her, inside and out.

Her hands are on me too, tentative at first, then they grow bolder. She traces the lines of my muscles, the planes of my chest, the ridges of my abs. Her touch sets my skin on fire, sending electricity coursing through my veins.

I’m rock hard, aching for her, and it takes everything I have to hold back.

I slip my hand under her shirt, feeling the smooth warmth of her skin. She arches into my touch, a soft moan escaping her lips. I cup her breast, my thumb brushing over her nipple, feeling it harden under my touch.

She gasps, her body writhing beneath me, her hips grinding against mine. She’s suddenly so fucking desperate.

“Rafe,” she whispers, her voice a plea, a demand. “Please...”

I smile, kissing her again as I slip my hand under the band of her sweatpants, my fingers finding her hot and so damned wet. She moans into my mouth, her body bucking against my hand as I stroke her, tease her, make her fucking mine.

I break the kiss, trailing my lips down her neck, her collarbone, her chest.

And I feel it, the exact moment, as I slide two fingers deep into her, I feel the way she reacts. The way her legs tighten, the way her body clenches.

“Fuck,” I groan, unable to keep the word in.

She’s so damn perfect. So damned tempting. How I’ve managed to resist her until now, God only knows.

I push the t-shirt up, taking one of her perfect nipples into my mouth. She cries out, her fingers tangling in my hair, holding me to her as I suck, as I lick, as I bite.

I want to fucking consume her, to devour her whole.

I move to her other breast, giving it the same treatment. Worshipping every inch.

She’s writhing beneath me, her body on fire, her hips grinding against my hand as she silently begs for more, more, more. I can feel her getting close, can feel her body tightening, her breath coming in quick, desperate gasps that sound like the very chorus of heaven.

“That’s it, Little Bird,” I murmur against her skin. “Let go. Let me see you come.”

And she does.

She throws her head back, her body convulsing, her cunt clenching around my fingers as she comes hard and fast.

I watch her, utterly entranced, my cock throbbing with the need to be inside her. But I let her ride out her orgasm, let her feel every moment of this pleasure, because God knows she needs it.

When she comes down, her body relaxing, her breath evening out, I slip my fingers out of her. She looks up at me, her eyes filled with a soft, satisfied glow and though I know it might trigger her, I can’t resist the voice in my own head as I raise them up, as I lick them clean.

Christ, she’s delicious. A perfect mix of sweet and salt.

I hold her gaze as I do it, as I claim this part of her. There’s still a spark of desire there, a need that matches my own.

I know I should check, should give her one last out, one last chance to change her mind.

But I’m too far gone now, too damned selfish to give a fuck anymore.

I slip her sweatpants down, my hands caressing her thighs, her calves, her ankles as I remove them.

She helps me, lifting her hips, her legs, her feet.

Then she’s bare before me, her body open, trusting, and all mine.

For a moment I just stare at her, taking in every delicious bit. I’ve fucked enough girls to be more than confident around a woman’s body and yet Scarlett, there’s something about hers, something that beckons me, beguiles me, bewitches me.

It takes all I have not to react to the evidence of abuse etched across her body like a map. All the bruising and trauma is there in stark contrast with her beautiful, delicate skin.

I stand up, my eyes never leaving hers as I undress. I see her gaze flicker down my body, see her eyes widen as she takes in the size of me and then they settle on that scar, that permanent mark seared into my chest.

“What is that?” She asks, reaching forward, but I’m quick to catch her hand, to stop her. The movement seems to shatter the fragile foundation we’ve built for ourselves, but it is what it is.

“It doesn’t matter.” I murmur, “It’s not important.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but I don’t give her a chance to speak anymore. Instead, I swallow those words, claim them with my tongue, using the simplicity of distraction to stop her from asking more about my mangled skin.

But as easily as it distracts her, within seconds she’s freezing, locking up.

I break apart, seeing that fear back in her eyes. She’s as skittish as a wild animal and while in the right circumstances I could turn that to my advantage, the whole point of this was to fix her.

“We’ll go slow,” I promise. “We’ll go at your pace, Scarlett. You’re in control here and we can stop any time you want.”

Those are words I’ve never said before. Words I’ve never needed to.

I’ve never forced a girl, but I’ve also never been in such a fucked up, messed up nightmare of a situation as this one.

She nods, her breath hitching as I settle between her legs.

She’s still so wet, so damn welcoming, and it would be so easy to just slide inside and take my pleasure. But I can feel her tense, feel her body resisting, despite her words to the contrary.

I lower my mouth, plant a light kiss right at her core and she gasps. It’s a quick, sharp sound, one that reveals she really is right on the edge of shattering still.

“Breathe, Little Bird,” I murmur, my lips brushing against her labia. “Just breathe and relax. We won’t do anything you don’t want to.”

She takes a deep breath, her body slowly relaxing beneath me, and just as she sinks a little more into the mattress, I take one long languid lick right up her sex.

“Rafe,” She gasps, but that sound, it’s so different.

I can’t help but smirk. I can’t help but to revel in the fact that I’ve barely done anything, and she’s already crying out my name.

Gently, I place my hands either side of her entrance and I pull her labia apart, coaxing her open more for me.

I need to taste her, I need to bury my tongue inside her, to kiss all those awful cuts better.

Her hand buries itself in my hair as I thrust my tongue as deep as I can get, and it’s all the encouragement I need.

Suddenly I’m not thinking, not caring, not gentle.

I’m rabid.

I’m an addict.

I wrap my hands around both her thighs, pulling them further apart, forcing her body to bend to me as I devour every inch of her delicious cunt.

She moans, she writhes, at least she tries to because I won’t allow her the movement she wants. I’m too lost, too delirious. I need this moment with her as much as she does.

I feel like I’ve been the one adrift. I’ve been the one lost, trapped, cut off and finally, finally I’ve found the cure. I’ve found my purpose.

“Fuck.” I groan the word against her core. I tongue fuck her over and over until I’m certain there is no more of her arousal left, that I’ve drunk it all up and replaced it my saliva.

“Scarlett.” I cry, feeling like I’m about to blow my load. Feeling like the taste of her alone is enough to make me come everywhere.

“Rafe,” She gasps back. “Fuck, Rafe, like that, please, just like that.”

I wanted her to beg out in the woods. I wanted her on her knees, begging for me to make her come.

I’d gotten off on that power, on that idea of her submission. But right now, I feel like the tables have turned. That I’m the one caught in her trap.

Is the old Scarlett suddenly back?

Is that what I’ve done?

Perhaps I’ve summoned the demon after all?

I plant my thumb on her clit and she lets out a moan that feels like it comes right from her very soul.

As she stares down at me, as I hold that beautiful gaze, I begin circling again, I begin using her like she’s the puppet and not me.

And suddenly it’s a battle of wills now. Me against her.

She bites her lip, locking her legs around my head and I swear I see that old defiance, that flash of fire. She’s not muddled by the drugs, she’s not sedated or subdued in any way. She’s the old Scarlett. The real Scarlett.

And I’ve got her right where I want her, where I’ve always wanted her.

Where I’ve dreamed of having her.

“Come for me.” I murmur. “Come for me.”

I know she knows what I’m saying. What I’m asking. That I’m talking to the demon side. Commanding that part of her to obey.

Her lips pull into a smile, her eyes sparkling like sunlight on the sea.

She throws her head back, rocks her cunt right against my thumb and as I watch she uses me, she uses my hand, my body, me, to get herself off.

I’m no longer in control. I lost it somewhere along the way, but it doesn’t even matter now. She’s arching her back, pinching one of her nipples, proving what we both knew all along, that she does like the pain, that it does get her off.

And then she’s performing. Like the very devil dancing in the ashes. She’s screaming, writhing, giving in to her pleasure. Looking every inch as beautiful and deadly as I know her to truly be.

As she relaxes her grip, I refuse to give her even a moment’s respite.

I pull myself up, engulfing her body with my own and I claim that beautiful mouth of hers. I claim those gasps, that shaky breath, I claim it all.

She’s mine now. All fucking mine.

Her hands tear down my back, scratching my skin in the most decadent hit of pain.

With my knee I nudge her leg aside from where it’s fallen and I sink into her, burying myself inside her. I delight in the fact that all that fear and hesitation is long forgotten, that for this brief moment I can do what I want, be as rough as I want, fuck her exactly the way I want.

The way she wants too.

Inch by inch, she lets me in, her body stretching to accommodate me, her breath coming in needy little gasps against my mouth.

She’s so fucking so wet, so perfect. I want to stay here, buried in her, fucking owning her for all eternity.

She meets my thrusts, her hips rising to meet mine while her hands continue to explore my body.

I can feel her getting closer, can feel her body tightening around mine, her breath coming in quick, desperate gasps.

“Fuck, Scarlett,” I groan, my body shaking with the effort of holding back. “You feel so fucking good.”

She moans, her head thrown back, her body arching against mine. “Rafe,” she gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders. “I’m... I’m so close...”

I slip a hand between us, my fingers finding her clit, stroking her, teasing her, pushing her over the edge and then she throws her head back, screaming my name as she comes. Her body convulses around mine, her pussy clenching down on me like a vice.

It’s too much, too fucking much.

I thrust into her one last time, burying myself deep as I come hard, my body shuddering with the force of my release.

I collapse on top of her, my breath coming in ragged gasps, my body shaking with the aftershocks of my own release. She holds me, her arms wrapped around me, her body cradling mine.

I can feel her heart pounding against my chest, her breath warm on my neck.

We lie like that for a while, our bodies entwined, our breaths almost synchronized. She’s completely relaxed beneath me, completely at peace.

When we separate, she gets up to use the toilet but when she comes back, I’m quick to pull her into my arms, pulling her back to my chest. She snuggles against me, her body fitting so damned perfectly against mine.

I brush her hair away from her face, my fingers trailing down her cheek, her neck, her shoulder. Her skin is soft, smooth, so perfect. She sighs, leaning into my touch, her body melting against mine.

We lie in silence for a while, both of us silently taking what we need. But I can feel her trust, her hope, her faith in me.

It’s a heady feeling, a powerful one.

It’s also fucking terrifying.

“Rafe?” she says softly, breaking the silence.

“Hmm?” I murmur, my fingers tracing patterns on her skin.

“This is working, isn’t it? This is going to plan?”

The weight of that question isn’t lost on me. All the sacrifice so far has been on her part. She’s taken the full weight of this while I’ve done nothing. “It is.” I say.

She searches my face for a moment like she half expects me to be lying to her.

“I… I didn’t think it would be this hard.” She admits.

“I know.” I reply. “I didn’t think my brother would…”

Her fingers silence the last of my sentence. “Don’t talk about him. Don’t bring it up. It is what it is.”

“How can you stand it?” I snap as that vision of him, of her, of them, flashes in my head. “How can you stand him, and my father…”

Her lips eat those words, swallow all the hate that I feel and for a second, I forget about anything beyond the taste of her, the addiction of her kisses.

As she breaks away from me there’s a flicker of sadness, of remorse in her eyes. “It is what is necessary.” She sighs.

I know from her tone that this is over. This moment. She’s taken what she needs, and now we both have to go back to playing our parts.

She needs to be the sacrificial lamb again.

And me, I need to be the brooding, rebellious, wayward younger brother.

But as she pulls away, as she gets up to leave, I grab her arm, yanking her right back and I press a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her, the feel of her in my arms.

And in my head, a voice is screaming at me that soon this smell, this person, this would-be devil will no longer exist.

She’ll fade back, become the docile broken creature again and if I’m not careful, I might never get her back.