Our Darkest Hour (Our Darkest Series Book 1)

by Sarah Bailey

  No one had touched me, kissed me or fucked me nor the other way around since Rhys. No one. And if that didn’t tell me exactly how much I needed him and only him, I don’t know what else would.

  So yes, I was incredibly nervous about seeing him because I knew what he wanted. I’d seen it in his eyes the day he’d landed back in my life. He wanted to punish me for hurting him. He wouldn’t be gentle. And he wouldn’t care if I enjoyed it or not.

  I wanted him that much, I didn’t care either despite the trepidation inside me. Probably why I’d spent an hour preparing myself mentally and physically before I took the tube to his. I didn’t feel remotely at ease or ready when I stood outside his building. Nor when I pressed down on the buzzer. And definitely not when he answered and let me up.

  What am I doing here? This is such a bad idea.

  I had come to the conclusion I’d lost all sense of rational thought. Coming here and letting him fuck me was probably the worst idea I’d ever had. Knowing I’d have his hands on me only filled me with red hot desire. And that’s what kept me from chickening out.

  His front door was open by the time I’d ridden up four floors. Rhys stood there with his face half-hidden in shadow and his eyes dark with repressed anger. He hadn’t calmed down in the intervening hours. If anything, his rage burnt hotter. And I knew any preparation I’d done wouldn’t be good enough.

  Rhys stepped back without saying a word. He’d already told me there’d be no talking so I wasn’t expecting a hello or a conversation. I swallowed hard before walking in. His hallway was dark and it made me nervous as fuck. And I should’ve been as the next thing I knew, he’d shut the front door and had me pinned against it with his forearm across my chest. His other hand rested next to my head.

  “I want you to listen carefully. There’s only one way this is going to go and it’s my way. There will be absolutely no kissing and if you try to touch me, I will kick you out.”

  “Okay.”

  He stared at me for a long moment. The burning rage in his eyes had me flinching. Why had I decided to do this again?

  You love him and you want him to forgive you.

  “Good. Come with me.”

  He let me go and grabbed my hand instead, dragging me through his dark flat. I didn’t get a chance to look around before he pulled me into a room and shut the door behind us. The only light source in here was from a single bedside table lamp.

  Oh shit… I’m in his bedroom. This is where he sleeps.

  From what I could make out, all the furniture was black and he had dark sheets on the bed.

  My attention was dragged to him as his hands were on me, pulling the coat off my shoulders and discarding it before his hands went to my shirt buttons. I sucked in a breath, watching him almost tear them open without much care. His desperation showed in the way his eyes roamed over me when he’d tugged it from my trousers, undoing the little buttons at my wrists. My shirt was pushed from my shoulders and it fluttered to the floor. His hands traced a line down my bare chest. I tried not to make a noise, but my skin burnt where he’d touched it. The low hiss escaping my lips was involuntary.

  I wanted to fall to my knees and beg him to forgive me, but he wouldn’t appreciate that right now. No, he wanted one thing and one thing alone. An outlet for his anger towards me.

  “Fuck,” he muttered. “I hate myself for wanting this… for wanting you.”

  His words made my heart squeeze and I fought against the urge to comfort him like I’d always done. Despite his statement, he unbuckled my belt and tugged open my fly. I stared at his hands and let out a strangled noise the moment one of them stroked down my cock. It strained towards his touch like it was starving for him. And it was. Starved of this man who I loved and desired more than life itself.

  “You still want me.”

  “Of course, I want you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

  His eyes flicked up to mine. The unadulterated lust and hatred in them almost made me take a step back. His hand slid between the fabric of my boxers and my skin. I panted when his fingers enclosed around my cock, his grip borderline painful. I don’t know where this assertive and dominant Rhys had come from but it only aroused me further. It’d been too long. Far too fucking long since I’d felt his touch.

  “This isn’t about you,” he outright growled, his face drawing closer to mine. “I don’t care if you want me. The only thing I care about is you doing what I tell you. And I’m telling you now so we’re very clear about what will happen next. I’m going to fuck you as much and as hard as I want and you’re going to take it no matter how much it hurts. Right now, you’re fucking mine to do what I want with.”

  There was literally nothing I could say to that. Anything I could think of sounded stupid. I didn’t want him to stop. Especially not now he’d touched me.

  “I’m yours, I’ll do what you want,” I whispered.

  I think it made him happy as his lip twitched. Then he dragged me closer to his bed by my cock and I could do nothing about it. He had all the cards here. He’d made it clear he was in complete control. I was at the mercy of his choices and decisions. The desire coursing through my veins was almost violent in nature. I wanted everything coming my way. And I wanted it right now.

  I toed off my shoes as he tugged the rest of my clothes off me. Rhys pressed me face down on the bed with his hand on the back of my neck.

  “Stay.”

  I dared not move as he let go and I heard him moving around behind me. I felt him next when his hand landed on my lower back, pressing me against the bed whilst his slick fingers delved between my cheeks and brushed against my hole. I shuddered in response and whined the moment his finger slid inside me.

  “You came prepared.”

  “Yes,” I murmured.

  I’d known exactly what I was walking into. When he said he wanted to hurt me, I knew how this would go. So I’d made sure I was ready.

  I felt him lean over me as his finger slid out of me. His breath fluttered across my shoulder.

  “Prepared enough to take me?”

  “Yes.”

  He ran his nose up my shoulder and breathed me in. I craved more of his touch. More of him.

  “Do you want this? Do you want me to fuck you?”

  I felt him press against me, the hardness of his cock digging into my skin. A clear indication I still turned him on as much as he did me.

  “Yes… please.”

  He pulled away, making me pant. I needed him so fucking badly, it burnt. This would hurt and I knew that, but it didn’t stop me from wanting it. The delicious yet painful ecstasy it would bring.

  I heard the rip of foil and had to bite down on my lip to stop from telling him I didn’t want that. Right now, I was in no position to make demands of him. He didn’t know I’d not been with anyone and who knew if he had. I hated the thought of it. Of him being with another man. I had no right to feel that way, but I did. Rhys was fucking well mine.

  His hand curled around my hip and his cock pressed against me. I fought hard not to tense up. I’d only been fucked once in my life and that was a long time ago. The experience had been magical. This time it would be very different.

  I choked out a grunt of pain when he slid inside me. It only burnt a little, but the suddenness took me off guard.

  “Fuck,” he groaned above me.

  Rhys didn’t let me adjust, he kept pressing forward, making me take him no matter how much I struggled. I gripped the covers, panting as sweat beaded across my back. When I’d taken him halfway, he pulled back and pressed inside me again, starting to gain a rhythm. The warring sensations of pleasure and pain drove through me.

  The moment he buried himself completely inside me, I moaned because fuck did it feel so good knowing it was him. Rhys. The man I fucking loved with everything I had.

  He leant over me again, his bare chest brushing against my back. Not
hing else felt as good as having him skin on skin.

  “I hate you for making me want you like this. I hate it so fucking much.” His hand wrapped around my shoulder and he started to move inside me. “I hate you, Aaron. I fucking hate you. You ruined us. You hurt me so fucking much. You broke my fucking heart.”

  Each word was punctuated by a hard thrust which only made me moan all over again. He could fuck me as hard as he wanted, I didn’t care. He could hate me too, but he’d said it himself. He wanted me.

  I gripped the covers tighter in my fists, taking him deeper and harder as his movements grew more erratic with his anger.

  “God, I fucking well hate the sight of you. I hate how you look so fucking good. I hate how you still have this fucked up power over me. Why are you doing this to me? Why are you fucking back in my life?”

  I didn’t answer him. Who knew why fate had brought us back together. I could only say I was glad of it even if he was fucking me into oblivion right now. Fucking me so hard, the need to come pounded inside me. He had to know because he was hitting me at just the right angle.

  “I. Hate. You.”

  I whimpered, trying desperately to hold back.

  “Rhys.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Please.”

  His hand tightened around my shoulder. He didn’t let up and I knew if I came right then, he’d only make it worse for me. This was a fucking punishment, but of the best kind.

  “No, don’t you fucking well beg me. You don’t deserve my fucking mercy, prince.”

  That name. The way he’d used it as a taunt rather than the term of endearment it had been between us almost outright destroyed me. The only thing I could do was hold on and let him decide when he’d punished me enough.

  The sound of our skin slapping together and our harsh breath filled the air. It echoed the ferocious passion between us. You couldn’t fake the connection we shared. He might hate me right now, but there were so many years between us. Years of friendship, love and being everything to each other. If Rhys didn’t still feel something for me, he wouldn’t have asked me here. He wouldn’t be fucking me right now.

  Abruptly, he pulled away from me. I felt bereft of his touch, unsure of what he wanted next.

  “Turn over,” he grunted.

  I let go of the covers and struggled to obey him. When I was on my back, he shoved my legs up on the bed and fit himself between them. He entered me again, his hands banding around my legs and pressing them to his chest as he pounded into me. The wild look in his eyes set my skin ablaze. My hands curled around the covers again so I wouldn’t touch myself.

  He slightly adjusted his angle and every stroke brushed up against my prostate. It made it harder and harder not to come. And by the way he smirked at me, I was pretty sure it’s what he wanted.

  “You want to come, don’t you?”

  I nodded, biting down hard on my cheek to stop from begging him to let me. It only made him let go of one of my legs and wrap his hand around my cock. A whimper escaped my mouth despite my best efforts not to make a sound.

  “Go on, fucking show me how much you love this.”

  I did love it. Mostly because it was Rhys doing the fucking and even though he was punishing me right now, it still felt incredible. And it only took a couple of strokes from him for me to erupt all over his fingers and my stomach.

  “Rhys!”

  “Fuck,” he ground out. “Fuck!”

  He thrust inside me impossibly hard before his face contorted and he groaned, emptying himself inside me. I watched with rapt attention as my cock pulsed in his hand. I didn’t think I’d get to see pleasure and pain written all over his face like this.

  Fuck, he’s so beautiful it almost hurts to look at him.

  He leant his head against my calf, panting as he let go of my cock. The sticky mess I’d made pooled on my stomach, making me very aware of how despite the pain, he’d brought me such pleasure too.

  Rhys pulled out of me and walked away, disposing of the condom. Next thing I knew, he’d chucked a box of tissues at my head. I sat up and cleaned myself off before getting up and throwing them in the bin.

  I stood there, unsure of what to do. Did he want me to leave now he’d had his fill of me? The thought of it cut me. I didn’t want to leave him. I wanted to stay right here where I could be close to the man I loved so desperately.

  “Do… do you want me to go?” I all but whispered.

  He turned and stared at me for a long moment. Then he pointed at his bed.

  “I’m not fucking done with you yet.”

  I swallowed hard not knowing what that meant. Even so, I walked over to his bed and laid down on the side he’d indicated. Satisfied I’d obeyed him, he nodded and walked out of the room. I didn’t know what he had planned for me or what this even meant, but I wasn’t going anywhere. If I could, I’d stay here forever in his space. Nestled on his bed with sheets that smelt of him.

  Whatever Rhys wanted when he came back into the room, I’d give it to him. I’d spend eternity making up for everything I’d done to him if he let me remain with him. If he stayed in my life.

  I love you, Rhys. I’ll never stop loving you. No matter what you do to me, I’ll keep coming back for more because that’s what you do for the person you love more than anything in the entire universe.

  Chapter Fifty Four

  Warmth and contentment flooded me when I floated back into the world from what felt like the deepest sleep I’d had in a long time. My arms were wrapped around a solid body who smelt like home. A sense of belonging washed over me. After years of emptiness, I felt complete.

  Then I opened my eyes and realised who the fuck I was holding onto. Whose chest my head was resting on. And everything came rushing back.

  What the fuck? Why the hell did I let him stay the night?

  I extracted myself from his grasp. Sitting up, I stared down at him. My very naked ex who I’d had very angry, vigorous sex with last night. I couldn’t help the way my insides clenched at the sight of his bare chest and the peaceful look on his sleeping face.

  You fucking idiot, Rhys.

  I should never have told him to come over yesterday. All my common sense fled the building. Desire, anger and need were the only driving factors in my decision making. Fucking him out of my system seemed like a good idea, but really, it made everything worse. Now, I craved him more than ever.

  I couldn’t face him or myself right then. Sickness coiled in my stomach knowing what I’d done. How fucked up I’d become since the moment I’d laid eyes on him again.

  I crawled out of bed and quick-walked out of the room, going into the bathroom. Flipping on the shower, I desperately needed to wash away the lingering smell of sex and him from my skin. I stood under the scalding hot spray, hoping he wouldn’t still be there when I got out.

  Wishful bloody thinking.

  The memory of last night branded itself on my retinas. It wasn’t the angry hate sex I’d had with him which tormented me. It was after that. When I’d told him to get in my bed and stay there. That had been my biggest mistake.

  He’d been there when I got back with two glasses of water, one of which I handed to him. Then I got under the covers and turned out the light. He hadn’t asked any questions. I didn’t have any answers for him either. There was no rational thought process behind why I wanted him there. I just did. And the sound of his breathing had lulled me to sleep.

  When I woke up in the middle of the night, fear had gripped me because for a full minute, I thought he’d left me all over again. Then I’d heard the toilet flush. The relief I felt when he reappeared and crawled back into bed had me doing something stupid. I’d reached for him. I’d pressed my face into his neck and breathed him in. And I’d held him, allowing him to put his arm around me too.

  Then… then I’d whispered those fucking disastrous words to him.

  “I’ve missed you so much.”

  He’d let
out a long breath.

  “I missed you too.”

  The words hung in the air between us. I didn’t let go and neither did he.

  Why did you tell him that?

  I scrubbed my face with my hand before slamming it down on the tiles in front of me. Frustration with myself and him exploding in my blood. He didn’t deserve to know how being apart from him had been hell for me. He deserved nothing from me after he’d ruined us.

  The shower door opened. I turned at the sound. Those stormy blue-grey eyes seared into me. I didn’t tell him to stop when he walked in, closing the door behind him. We stood inches apart under the streaming water. My skin prickled. My hands twitched with the effort of holding back. I hated it. Hated how seeing him made my heart fire on all cylinders. How he felt like home.

  Why do I still love you, Aaron?

  I sucked in air when he leant closer and rested his forehead against mine. Did he have any idea how close I felt to breaking down? Having him right there made the two warring sides of me clash violently. Love and hate. When it came to Aaron, they were two sides of the same coin. I’d felt so adrift for seven long years. He had been my anchor to the world. Keeping me secure and safe.

  “Don’t,” I whispered as his hand rose and cupped my face.

  “I’m not going to kiss you. I know I don’t deserve to… yet.”

  It didn’t fill me with relief. Quite the opposite. Kissing him would be too intimate. It’s why I’d stated last night it wouldn’t be happening. Yet wasn’t fucking the most intimate thing you could do with another person? No, that was making love. And we definitely had not done that. You could hardly call the shit spewing out of my mouth last night in any way loving or romantic.

  “I want you to know no matter how hard you try to push me away, I won’t stop coming back. I won’t leave you again.”

  He’d known last night when I reached for him, it had everything to do with me being terrified of him leaving. I didn’t have to voice it. Aaron knew me. He recognised my needs. It’s part of the reason we worked so well together.

  “I don’t want you to do that.”