Page 38 of The Ecstasy of Sin (Brutal Brotherhood #1)
Wren
My heart is pounding behind my ribs, a rapid beat that won’t slow down, no matter how hard I try to convince my nervous system that we’re not being pursued by armed men intent on seeing us dead.
I don’t understand why the brother of the man Dominic was fighting put his hands on me and pulled me into his body like he had every right to touch me.
I remember his voice, though. The callous way he whispered into my ear like he was already rehearsing it for the moment he followed through.
“If my brother dies, so will you. But not until all of my men rape you, torture you, and leave you begging for death.”
His words felt like more than a passing threat. They felt like a promise he intended to keep.
After a lifetime of struggle and suffering, the cruelty of it hit a nerve I didn’t know was still so raw.
Just when I started to feel some safety in Dominic’s world…
that man shattered it with his threat. I was brought back to the churchyard where I was strangled, the pharmacy where I was assaulted, every moment I couldn't keep myself safe from the dangers men pose .
I cling tighter to Dominic, pressing my body against the broad wall of his back as we speed down the dense forest road. I wish more than anything he could wrap me in his arms and hide me away from the world. Lock the doors, and shut it all out, until it’s just him and me.
All I ever wanted was peace, and safety, and comfort. Now I’m left wondering if my future ends in screams and broken bones before someone finally puts me out of my misery.
Tears sting my eyes—but frustration holds them back. I don’t want to be afraid, not of Dominic. I wouldn’t be alive today if he hadn’t intervened when I needed him.
But is blind trust in him going to get me killed? He’s obviously a man with secrets I haven’t uncovered, and what if he really is a danger to me?
I just watched Dominic step into a cage and beat a man nearly to death. His skill as a fighter isn’t just impressive, it’s terrifying.
If Ghost hadn’t told me who his opponent was when I asked, I think I would’ve felt differently about the bloodshed.
Knowing the man Dominic fought—Maksim—is the brother of the man who threatened me? The man who promised to have his men rape and torture me before killing me? I feel better about what I witnessed. Relieved, even.
Apparently, the Volkov brothers are part of the Russian mafia. I imagine they’ve done plenty of heinous things to innocent people.
He probably deserved it.
Just like the man who tried to kill me .
Dominic is a man with blood on his hands, and I know it should send me running for the hills. Instead of red flags, all I see is the aftermath of a man who did unspeakable things to save my life.
The truth is, I crave him like an addict chasing a high. My brain, rewired by trauma and hardship, has crowned him the pinnacle of safety.
Dominic is the north that my broken compass keeps pointing to.
The farther we ride from the club, and the city, the darker it gets. The night sky is clear, the moon tucked just below the horizon, leaving the stars above to glitter like scattered diamonds across the void. Even through my helmet visor, I can see them, littering the sky like tiny gems.
I don’t know where we’re going, or if Dominic is taking the long way home, but the farther we go, the quieter my mind becomes.
The relentless vibration of the bike works like a sedative, easing my rattled nerves. Reminding me of what it feels like to be in the safety of Dominic’s presence.
My fingertips roam over Dominic’s bare torso, his jacket only zipped half way up. I ignore the dried blood caked to his skin, and instead trace the ridges of his abdomen. Each muscle is carved, solid and warm beneath my touch. My hands drift lower, a slow and teasing sweep.
Until my hand brushes against his cock, thick and hard as stone, tenting the fabric of his pants. I can’t imagine that’s comfortable, not with how big he is .
My palm flattens, and I stroke him through the dense material, feeling the way his entire body tenses at my touch.
He only lasts a minute before, without a word, he turns down a dirt road and pulls into a small, empty parking lot with only six spaces.
A weathered sign indicates the start of a trail beside a wide-open field, the tall grass shimmering silver in the starlight.
When we stop, he kicks the foot stand and kills the engine. As he pulls off his helmet, I follow suit. Our helmets drop to the ground in unison, just as his hands find my waist.
A startled gasp escapes me as he drags me around his body and pins me over the front of his bike, my thighs bracketing his waist. My back meets the warm metal, and the moment I’m trapped between the machine and his body, his mouth is on mine.
He kisses me like a man starved of oxygen, like my mouth is the only thing keeping him alive. His hand fists in my hair, dragging my head back as his tongue sweeps against mine in long, hungry strokes.
I whimper into his mouth, my fingers scrambling to grip the lapels of his leather jacket. I’m powerless beneath him, and that realization has my pussy aching with the need to be filled.
Before I know what’s happening, he’s bunching the hem of my dress in his fists, yanking it up until the fabric pools around my hips.
His cock, rigid and restrained behind thick fabric, presses against my pussy as he grinds forward. I moan despite the layers between us, my hips rolling instinctively, pleading for more friction .
He breaks the kiss to grip my jaw, tilting my face away from him. I cry out as his mouth descends on my throat, his teeth sinking into the delicate skin. The pain is sharp, and my body bucks at the sensation.
“Dominic,” I whimper, breathless as his tongue soothes the tender place he left his mark.
“I need to be inside of you,” he growls, his voice barely human.
“I need you inside of me, too.”
Reaching down between us, his hands grip the thin material covering my pussy. He tears with his fingers, ripping into the fabric until the two halves come apart.
Just when I think he’s going to fuck me right here on the bike, he slides off the seat and pulls me with him. I wrap my legs around his waist and cling to him as he walks us around the bike and lowers me to my feet.
His breathing is ragged, and his pupils are blown wide, as he strips off his leather jacket and tosses it to the ground next to the front wheel. Even under the cover of night, I can see the dark patches of blood riddling his powerful body.
“Run, little lamb. Run as fast and as far as you can.”
I stare at him, wide-eyed and trembling, as he nods toward the trail. The inferno of my arousal rises to a fever-pitch as I watch him. His neck rolls, shoulders shifting, as he stretches out his tense muscles.
He wants to chase me, and I want to run.
“You could’ve already been buried deep inside of me right there on your bike, you know,” I tease, a smirk tugging at my lips as I take one slow step toward the trail. I reach down and slip my heels off my feet, one by one, leaving them in the parking lot.
He runs a hand through his hair, but it falls back over across his forehead. His entire body is tense, his muscles trembling from the effort it’s taking to keep him standing where he is. He almost looks pained, like his need to fuck me is destroying him.
“Fuck,” he groans, his face tense with the raw need that has him in a vice grip. “Make me earn it, baby. Run, so I can take what’s mine in the way we both fucking need.”
I take a shaky step back, my heart thundering in my chest as heat floods between my thighs. The way he’s looking at me—like he’s moments from snapping and fucking me into the earth—has my pulse racing and my breath catching in my throat.
Every instinct inside me screams to run. Not to escape, but to provoke the monster who promised he’d ruin me in the sweetest way.
And I want to be ruined.
“Does this mean you’re finally going to fuck me?”
He nods. “You’ll cry, and you’ll beg, and you’ll fight me, but you’ll lose. You were made to lose to me, not the rest of the world. They can’t have you anymore. I’m the only man you’ll bleed for.”
The way he wants me feels sacrilegious. I know it will hurt, and I know my pain will make him harder, but that doesn’t stop my body from wanting him and every sinful thing he intends to do to me.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, I turn toward the trail, and I run .
I don’t look back as I pass the trail marker and disappear into the dark woods, my night vision is the only thing saving me from face-planting into roots and uneven gravel. I don’t hear him behind me, but that only feeds the adrenaline flooding my veins.
He’s waiting. He’s giving me a head start, because he knows he’ll catch me no matter how far away I get from him. There is no way I can outrun him. He’s not just bigger and stronger than me, he’s a perfectly honed predator that is built for exactly this: pursuit and capture.
The second he reaches me, it’ll be over. He’ll take me down, pin me beneath that punishing body, and force every inch of his cock inside me, whether I’m ready or not.
Knowing what’s coming, the takedown, and the unstoppable claiming, has my clit throbbing with anticipation. My inner thighs are slick with my arousal, my body aching with the intensity of my need for him.
After what feels like forever, though I know it’s only been a minute or two, the sound of boots pounding against gravel cuts through the silence and echoes through the trees around me.
My breathing is a ragged mess as my legs pump harder, my body driven by the primal thrill of knowing who’s coming for me.
In a snap decision I may regret, I veer hard to the right into the narrow corridor of trees. I’m aiming for the open field beyond, hoping the shift in terrain throws him off, even for just a second .
As I crash through low-hanging branches, and dodge thick roots at my feet, I can’t help but question my decision to cut through this mess.