Page 19 of What’s Left of Me (What Left #1)

Vinny speeds away from the penitentiary, making my hair fly when he rolls the windows down. Tension builds between us the whole way back to Emeric’s, and I know what I should be feeling.

Disgust towards Alastair. Maybe a healthy dose of fear and revulsion. I could probably take a dark trip down memory lane if I thought about the past too long, but none of that is what’s happening.

Lust. My sickness matches Vinny’s, and he’s had that damn button in his hand for half the drive, making me shudder as we move.

The vibration from the plug was a nice distraction at the penitentiary, and thankfully when we passed through security the silicon plug didn’t have enough metal in it to activate a sensor.

Vinny increases the speed of the plug, and I whimper.

Here in the car I’m not interested in hiding and I’ve already torn the blouse I’m wearing trying to get the layers off of me.

I think two buttons popped off, but it allows him to occasionally reach over and tweak my nipples, leaving me so much hornier than I should be after talking to a serial killer.

My moans grow as I think of Alastair again, and the dangerous game Vinny played with me once we spotted him.

I was angry listening to him speak, but my husband took great pleasure turning the toy on and off intermittently as he saw fit.

It certainly didn’t curb my rage but it did help to distract me a little bit.

The vibrating butt plug stays on as Vinny parks, and we’re barely out of the car before I’m throwing myself at him.

For the first time in I can’t remember how long I don’t care that my skin is on display for anyone to see, and I fly into him as my legs find their place around his hips and my lips slam into his.

He growls at the contact, kissing me feverishly as he backs us up to the door.

I should’ve waited but can’t make myself care, attaching my lips to his neck, chin, jaw, anywhere that I can find skin and rock against him.

He snarls as the keys jingle beneath me, and if this was our house in Colorado we would park in the garage and be inside already. I don’t give him a break since he isn’t giving me one, nipping at his skin and grinding down against his cock until the door finally opens.

Fuck what Emeric’s neighbors think.

Vinny throws the door closed hard enough to make the frame rattle, and then I’m pressed against the hardwood door as he spins us around.

I whimper when he reaches up to grip my throat, the toy in my ass picking up speed, and I rock harder into him.

I’m definitely going to orgasm before he’s even in me, and I think he likes knowing it.

His lips circle my ear before he bites down on the tip, making my already sensitive nerves that much worse. I moan, and then he’s speaking in my ear. “Lust after him all you want, Trauma, but you aren’t his anymore. Everything about you belongs to me.”

My eyes roll at his words, and I can’t stay focused. The possession in his voice does something to me, his words creeping down into my soul and cementing there. No matter what’s happening in the world around us, Vinny always has my back.

I shift my grip on him, moving so my nails dig into the back of his scalp. He hisses at the pressure, but his hair is too short to really grip. “Same for you, husband. You’re mine and mine alone.”

He kisses me, and as much as I know there might be a bit of toxicity in the way we deal with Alastair, it works for us. His betrayal shattered a whole dynamic between us, and it’s a miracle that we survived.

I fantasize about Alastair still, and in the back of my head it feels dangerously close to Stockholm Syndrome. But my husband is in every single fantasy, and even though we play out mine we’ve never once acted out his.

His fantasies don’t include Alastair anymore. His betrayal cut too deep, and maybe Vinny isn’t as broken as I am but I can’t purely hate Alastair. It’s something I despise about myself after everything he took from me.

“Stop getting lost in that pretty little head,” Vinny growls, the hand at my waist shifting down to grip my ass. He smacks the side, and it makes the vibrator shift slightly inside me as I groan. “Fantasize, role play, whatever you need, but you’ll remember that I’m here too.”

I barely get the chance to nod before he pulls me from the door. Emeric’s home is conveniently set up so my husband can easily deposit me on the couch. He’s already going for his belt, and I shift around to get the tie undone on my pants and lift my hips before I start sliding them off.

He catches my legs at the ankle, keeping them suspended above me and rocking me back over my tailbone so most of my weight is on my lower back and hips. The butt plug is still working, and it hits even more sensitive spots as he changes the angle.

Vinny clicks his tongue. “So pretty. How did my wife end up with a pussy from heaven and a mind from hell?”

I try wiggling in his grip so he does more than look at me. “You like the hellish part of me. It’s the side that burns for the dirty things you do to me.”

He smacks my ass once, and I buck against nothing.

His laugh is gravelly when he speaks again, one hand tearing my pants away from my ankles.

The wide leg was a good idea, I realize, as he pulls them off past my wedged heels, adjusting his grip without ever truly letting go of me. “Oh, how right you are, Jo.”

My nails scratch at the suede of the couch before I feel his fingers slide into me. With the plug still in place I feel too full all of a sudden, and he’s not being gentle with me. It’s at least two fingers that he curls inside of me, possibly three, and my jaw falls open at the feel.

I cum with a cry, and the vibration setting changes. It’s longer vibrations before they fade, starting up again with the same crescendo of speed that has me catching my breath.

He shifts, but with the angle he’s kept me at I can’t see what he’s doing. My nails are still in the middle of wrecking Emeric’s furniture when I feel the wide head of his cock settle against me, and I only have a moment to catch my breath before Vinny is slamming inside me.

I must move further down the couch, or there was more tension in my neck than I realized, because next thing I know my head is hanging off the edge. “Vinny!”

He slams in until he bottoms out, then parts my legs so I can finally see the anguish mixed with lust on his face. I’m sure seeing Alastair speaking with me did something to him too, but it’s impossible to determine what he’s thinking at the moment.

As he moves his hip agonizingly slow to withdraw, the plug in my ass goes still again, and in the silence there’s only two things; my breaths and his cock teasing me as he withdraws.

Our eyes lock together, and he speaks through gritted teeth. “Stop. Fucking. With. Serial. Killers.”

He slams into me again and I cry out, the plug rubbing me as he starts to piston in and out of my body.

The force of his thrusts rocks the couch, sliding us across the cushions, and I scramble for something to grip onto so he doesn’t push us off.

My nails dig into his forearms, and he grunts as he continues to fuck me.

There’s nothing loving about it, and my body rocks at the awkward angle to meet his thrusts.

My clit is on fire, and I’m pretty damn sure he knows it too, as his fingers dance down my stomach across the scars, over the tops of my open thighs, and even just above the bundle of nerves without actually touching me there.

It’s maddening, and I just keep rocking harder into him.

“You teased that fucker,” Vinny growls, but his voice is ragged. Not angry, not controlled, but something trapped between helpless and horny. “You didn’t need to taunt him, Trauma.”

“He’s taunting me,” I gasp, swirling my hips as he moves. It earns me a satisfied groan. “I - I’m playing the game.”

All at once, he leans forward and brackets my neck with his hand. His dark eyes seem to burn right through me. “Don’t. I want to play a game of fuck around and find out, not a duel to the death.”

I whimper when he finally presses his thumb to my clit, keeping my neck trapped with his other hand.

One leg falls open while the other is trapped against the couch, and he keeps pounding into me.

I bite my lip and shudder, feeling the orgasm rising inside me.

“I won’t be his victim again, Vinny. It’s my damn choice. ”

We’re veering off course, and he seems to notice it too, picking up his speed so I can barely catch my breath. The conversation falls away as I moan, his fingers expertly teasing my clit until I think I might come apart from the tension building.

Then he slams into me with a shudder, his voice a command. “Cum for me, Trauma.”

My back arches from the couch, and I follow him over the edge.

His hand flexes on my throat for a moment before massaging along the pulsepoint, and I rock against him as I ride out the orgasm.

The knot of tension inside me releases, and my hands come up to wrap around his neck and drag him down for a kiss.

His lips are hot against mine, and the kisses are sloppy as he rocks into me until he’s spent.

My legs find their way around his hips, pinning him to me as we come down from the high.

His hand stays firm around my neck for several moments, and I relax into the comfort of it before he slowly withdraws and pulls back to look at me.

His cock is spent, softening some while still inside me. His eyes search mine as we stare at each other, though I’m not sure exactly what he’s searching for.

He kisses me again, and it’s full of love. I relax as we kiss, the lust melting away until it’s all love and gentleness. We don’t always stay connected this long after sex, but something about the moment feels desperately important to hold onto.

When we separate, we have to accept that we’re still in Citrus Grove and not this safe little haven. We can’t pretend that we are exactly where we want to be when a psychopath is still on the loose, upending our lives.

Vinny kisses me once more, and I can feel the emotion behind it too. He might call me Trauma, but that’s what we’re both going to experience if we get trapped here.