by V. F. Mason
“I’m—” Whatever I want to say dies on my lips as he reefs my panties to the side and latches onto my clit, brushing his tongue over it.
My hips rise, and a surprised gasp escapes me, which quickly transforms into a moan when he french kisses my damp flesh, swirling his tongue inside me and stroking between my sensitive folds. “Eugene.” A rush of heat envelops me, making me dizzy. I grab my bra, hating how it scratches against my breasts and makes me feel like I can’t breathe.
He opens me with his fingers, giving himself better access to me, all while he continues to lavish my core with attention. He licks me as he slides his hands, fisting my ass cheeks, and lifting me up for a better angle. “Oh my God,” I murmur hoarsely, barely able to even think straight as pleasure unlike anything I’ve experienced before crashes over me.
Abandoning my modesty, I tangle my fingers in his black locks and twist them, torn between the need to push him closer and dragging him upward so he can soothe the inferno he’s slowly creating within me. “Please, just—” I’m not even sure for what I’m begging, but he just growls against me, tickling me, and my hips jerk.
He bites my lower lips and I groan, tugging on his hair a little. “That hurt.”
“Stop trying to control me,” he advises, diving in again, but this time his licks are gentler, slower, as if he is tasting expensive wine and wants no interruptions.
Then he presses his tongue against my clit, flicking it and massaging it.
My hips thrust upward, fire burning in me and perspiration coating my skin, as I anticipate his next move.
But he goes back to licking and sucking and biting, repeating his actions and driving me crazy with them, to the point of pain.
Each time, he takes me higher and higher and higher to the desired peak while my body buzzes with anticipation.
His hot mouth envelops me everywhere, not giving me a chance to escape the deep need that has no boundaries.
Everything fades away while I close my eyes and arch my back, getting so close to the—
He snatches his mouth away though, and instantly cold air breaks goose bumps out on my skin, snapping my eyes back open. “Eugene.” My voice is hoarse and resembles one akin to accusation and annoyance, and I focus my stare on him.
Instantly, all the air leaves me as I study the male perfection in front of me.
His naked body glistens in the moonlight from the sweat sliding down his six-pack, while his tanned skin along with his brown eyes and black hair give him a sinister appearance.
Like an angel of death.
My angel, I think. Satisfaction and a smile curve my lips, while my gaze slides all over him, and I lick my lips, wanting to taste his skin on my tongue.
But then my eyes glance lower, and I notice his cock, and oh my, but that thing is big.
He chuckles at my barely audible gasp and leans forward, pressing his palm over my mouth, and orders, “Wet it for me, pretty girl.” My core clenches at the command and I lick it, enjoying my smell all over it.
He takes it away and then wraps it around his erection, running his hand from the base to tip and back again. Precum leaks from the slit, and he brushes his thumb over it, then brings it to my mouth, giving me a taste.
Without hesitation, I suck on it, and a growl echoes in the room. “Just a taste.” It pops out of my mouth loudly, and then he pushes me back on the bed, once again looming above me.
He makes room between my legs and does the most unexpected thing.
Eugene bends to my stomach and slowly puts kiss after kiss on my scarred flesh, where the marks of the stitches are still visible.
Each kiss is short and light, but yet filled with so much love… so much acceptance… my heart pangs painfully and then soars from his care.
Because this man knows my scars but loves me despite them.
In his arms, I’m not the broken princess everyone sees, but the most precious possession.
How could I have kept him away from me for so long?
He must feel the change in my mood, because he murmurs, “Thoughts on me, pretty girl.” He travels upward, leaving bite marks and light kisses in his wake right before he settles between my legs, splaying my thighs on either side of his hips, and I wrap them around him, digging the heels of my feet in his ass.
Eugene reaches for my bra and, with a short snap, tears it apart. My breasts spring free, and I gulp in a breath, enjoying the freedom and relief of my aroused nipples.
“Beautiful,” he informs me, palming one breast and then bringing it to his mouth, swirling his tongue around the nipple and then sucking as much flesh as he can.
A zap of electricity travels from my breast to my clit, and I arch my back while grabbing his hair in both hands.
With each pull, he becomes more relentless in his assault, not even giving me time to breathe as he moves to the other breast, focusing his attention on it too, all while I beg for relief. “Eugene, please.” I wrap my legs around him, feeling his cock digging into me but not entering me. “Please.” I can't take this emptiness anymore, I need to feel him inside me, with me, being part of me.
So that I know it’s real and won’t disappear at any minute.
Something in my voice must give me away, because he lets go of me, flicking my nipple one last time, before he informs me, “All right, Lila. Now you’ll be mine.” He slams his mouth on mine and thrusts inside me at the same time, freezing the world around us.
He stretches me so much that tears prickle my eyes and I gasp into his mouth, digging my nails into the back of his neck. He jerks back, only to slam home again.
He continues to kiss me, passionately and all-consumingly, bruising my lips and staking a claim that I should find alarming… yet all it does is fuel my desire for him.
Our bodies move smoothly on the bed, flesh slapping against flesh, all while our hearts beat against each other. With each thrust, he takes me deeper and deeper into a spiral of bliss, shattering any kind of walls between us there could have been.
I snatch my mouth away from him, skimming my lips over his neck while we both breathe heavily, and murmur, “Eugene, this is too much. It feels—”
“Like I’m making you mine,” he informs me, fisting my hair and arching my neck so he can leave his own marks, sucking on my skin while he pulls his hips back, and I whimper in distress, needing him to fill the emptiness.
He pushes back, growling, “Mine.” I’m so far gone I don’t even bother to tease.
“Yes, yours and only yours.” Because after this night, how can there be any other man for me?
His movements speed up while the ringing in my ears increases, and that’s when he shifts on the bed and slides his hands between us, flicking my clit.
Along with his erection thrusting just right inside me, sending waves of pleasure one after another, until I crash and cry out, clenching around his thick cock.
I slump into the bed while he continues to move, deeper and slower. He hikes my legs over his hips higher, growling, “Lila.” I open my eyes and look at him in all his male glory and give him what he asks.
I clench around him again, dragging him closer to me and hugging him with all my might, then whisper into his ear, “I feel so good… so good, Eugene. But I want to share it with you. Please share it with me?” I plead, swiping the sweat on his skin with my tongue. And that’s when he loses it.
With a guttural groan, he comes apart in my arms, locking our mouths in the kiss that forever cements our relationship.
In this bed, in this moment, we become something more than a couple.
In this moment, we become one.
And for a moment in time… no bad things exist.
For a moment in time.
* * *
Him
Eugene is everything Lila needs right now.
Safe, steady, and normal.
He gives her a false sense of security that allows her to open up about her pain and let herself be vulnerable to another.
; And while the beast inside me rages at her desire and love for another man, part of me accepts that.
She is not ready for the likes of me, but she will be.
Soon, very soon, she will be mine.
And then no one will ever hurt her again.
No one but me.
Chapter Seven
New York, New York
Fall, 1979
* * *
Lila
Tears stream down my cheeks, and I hiccup into my hands, but I continue to throw things in the bag splayed wide open on my bed, not caring in the least how everything dangles outside like a big mess.
“Lila, could you please stop these hysterics?” Mother’s voice freezes me for a moment, and I spin around to face her as she stands in the doorway, resting her shoulder against it while she gazes at me with a bored expression. She takes a sip of her white wine and continues. “Nothing extraordinary happened. Act rational for once.”
Disbelief along with betrayal slip into my bones slowly when the meaning of her words fully settles in, and I hiss through my chapped lips, “Rational?” I point at the various bruises on my face and hike up my shirt so she has a clear view of my cut stomach, where the doctor sutured the gaping wounds, leaving the skin puffy and red. I’ll have scars to last me a lifetime. Even the plastic surgeon has refused to perform the surgery, because he’s not sure I’m strong enough physically or emotionally at the moment. “How is this rational, Mother?”
She winces, waving her hand in a gesture for me to pull it back down. “Really, Lila. I think—”
I wipe away the tears and resume packing, quickly grabbing my money and drawings, because no way in hell will I come back to this house. “They will be put behind bars for what they did.” I take a deep breath while the memories of the last few weeks assail me, not allowing me to ever forget the raspy breathing and touches that destroyed my innocence.
“Please, don’t do this. Please.”
“Lila, you are my prize that I won. Of course I’ll do it. And scream, baby. That’s always music to my ears. Along with your tears.”
I cover my ears, wishing for the disgusting voice to go away, but it never does. He is forever imprinted in my brain. I can never forget any of their faces, not after what they did to me.
His eyes will always haunt me. The desire and hatred mixed together as his palm slid down my thighs and forcefully opened them. It’s a wonder Sam changed his mind at the last minute and allowed Roger to carve different letters with the knife on my skin.
The ringing of my phone on the desk snaps me out of the painful and terrifying memories, and I dart toward it while Mom gasps loudly, her fucking wine glass slipping onto my white, fluffy carpet. “Lila Kristina Lockwood, you will do no such thing.” Her tone suggests that even such a thought seems scandalous to her.
Picking up the phone, I hear Sorcha on the other end of the line say, “I’m leaving my house now. Should be at your place in ten minutes.” I hear her dog, Link, bark in the background while she breathes heavily into the phone, probably hastily gathering her purse, because I called and begged her to take me from here.
I close the bag, pick it up, and I’m ready to go down, but my father’s figure blocks the doorway and I still, my heart beating rapidly against my ribcage so much I almost feel it in my throat.
“Father.” He scans me from head to toe, pausing a moment, but then he raises his eyes and holds my stare while he utters the words that forever shatter my world. “You step one foot out of this house and you are disowned. No one will listen to you without my help.”
“You won’t do this.” Is he threatening to remove his support if I decide to make them pay for what they did? To call them out on the evil they’ve performed, God only knows how many times per week? “They almost killed me, Dad! Killed me! Does that mean anything to you?” I ask, hating how I can’t control the tears that give him so much power over me, as they show him my weakness.
His jaw tics, but he shakes his head, calmly replying, “Sam’s father is too powerful. Your truth won’t bring good to anyone. Keep your mouth shut and continue to live as you did. No one will touch you now. Do not seek justice where you can’t find it.” He waits a beat, and then says, “Not Ben. His father finances my campaign. All you’ve seen might be a fragment of your imagination, yet you’re so ready to destroy five lives.” My mom joins him and nods in agreement, although she has the decency not to meet my eyes.
Is it shame, or that she doesn’t want to deal with my emotional outburst, as she calls it?
With each word, he opens my eyes wider and wider, so much so that I can no longer hide from the truth that has been in front of me my entire life.
The prestige and selfish desire will always be more important to my parents than I am, because I’m just this annoying child who never played according to the rules.
What kind of people wouldn’t support their daughter after an attack? How can they live with themselves after that? “I’m going,” I say, because the choice is easy.
I can never accept their way of doing things and will fight for my right to demand justice. “You will lose your trust fund. I won’t let you get it, no matter how much you beg. No one will pay for your tuition. For once in your life, think, Lila, before acting irrationally,” Father warns, although it sounds more like a threat, like the prospect of independent life should scare me.
Yeah, I know nothing about it.
But people have to learn at some point, right?
I leave the house and seek the truth, only to discover no one wants to listen to it. None of the five men have been charged, and they live their lives like the kings of the world until the first news comes announcing the death of Roger.
That’s when some of my nightmares start to disappear.
* * *
New York, New York
1981
* * *
Lila
Soft kisses trail down my back, and I smile even though I burrow my head into the pillow, inhaling the intoxicating smell of my man. “Wake up, baby,” he whispers, sliding his hands from my waist to my hips, bringing me closer to his hard-on.
“No, it’s dark,” I whine, hooking my leg over his and keeping the connection while, this time, his palm travels down my stomach to my aching core, where he slides his fingers inside easily.
My back arches at his invasion, which rubs my ass harder against his erection, and he chuckles. “You little liar,” he murmurs into my ear, biting on the flesh and earning himself a groan. “You are so wet and needy for me already.” He twists his fingers inside me, and I bite my lip, whimpering, but he doesn’t let me move an inch. He clacks his tongue, skimming his lips over my shoulder. “What is it, Lila?” His other hand locks his fingers with mine, so he has me exactly where he wants me. “Is there something you need?” He sucks on my skin, marking it for everyone to see, but I don’t care.
I want the whole world to know I belong to this man, just as he does to me.
I place my hand over his and push his fingers deeper into me, clasping my thighs around it. “Yes,” I reply, my voice husky from desire. “I ache, Eugene.”
He murmurs something before leaving me bare and taking away his hand.
“No,” I call after him, but he doesn’t let me suffer for long.
He shoulders my hips apart before he settles between them
“I think this pretty pussy begs for attention, don’t you?”
A moan is my only reply as he places his hands on the inside of my thighs, making room for himself, and licks me from clit to bottom, searing my skin with each touch of his tongue, and causing desire to spread through me.
He slides his hands under my ass, digging his fingers into my skin as he raises it to give himself better access. He latches onto my clit, sucking on it gently, biting, and then immediately soothing it with a lick, all while my loud moans echo in the morning stillness.
I fist his hair, my heels rock into his back, and I arch my back as the gentle breeze fr
om the open window nips at my skin and creates goose bumps. “Eugene, please,” I beg, scratching the back of his head, but it’s no use.
Instead, he dips his tongue, swirling it inside me, drinking me in, and sending me deeper into a spiral of bliss and pleasure. “Please what?” he asks, pushing two fingers into my core while sucking on my clit again, but this time, sensations become too strong. I grab the pillow and groan into it, pulling the material with my teeth, needing his touch like my next breath.
The pressure continues to build, demanding release, and right in this moment, I hate my man a little for playing with me. “Fuck me hard already,” I say, groaning again, this time in mortification, because who surrenders so easily?
He chuckles against my skin, sending vibrations through me, and my breath hitches, but he eases his fingers out, and then licks me again, swiping his tongue from one lower lip to the other, savoring my wetness on the way.
I feel like one more lick or touch and I will burst from all the need filling me.
Before I can even blink, he rolls me on my stomach and brings me to my knees by grabbing my hips, and then he spreads me wide open for him.
He nips on my ass cheeks then slaps them. He places a few open-mouth kisses on the tender skin and then skims his lips up, up, up, leaving a wet trail all the way to the back of my neck where he fists my hair and brings my head up, resting his cheek against mine. Our heavy breaths fill the room. His hand slides to my core, covering it, while the heel of his palm digs into my clit, and I gasp, clasping my thighs around it again. “We’ve come back to where we began, pretty girl,” he murmurs, turning his head to me and catching my mouth in an all-consuming, passionate kiss where our tongues clash and we can't get enough of each other.