Bound by Her Destiny

by Mara Leigh

  “Like I’m in heaven and hell at the same time. Like I’m going to explode. Like I’ll die if you ever leave me.”

  With that, I increase my pressure, both with my hand and my body.

  Rock moans. His head tips back, and his neck, the ropes, and the entire bed all strain against his pleasure.

  I slide down his body and press my lips against the huge tip of his hardness. He groans, and I pull down the foreskin and do it again.

  He moans so deeply, so loudly it shakes the bed. Encouraged, I circle and swirl my tongue, use my mouth on the part of him that’s soft and moist and yet so hard. I try to suck his head fully inside my mouth, but my lips won’t stretch nearly wide enough, so instead I trace my tongue back and forth over the tip, loving the hot salty taste of his skin and the drops of his come.

  His fists pound the mattress again, his entire body completely under tension now, tugging against the ropes, flushing, sweating as he pants out heavy breaths. The power of him, the idea of seeing his power unleashed, feeling it…

  “I want you inside me.” I shift over his body to get into a position where my goal might be possible.

  His head snaps up. “No!” His eyes are wide and alarmed, and when I meet his gaze his head shakes side-to-side vigorously.

  “It will be okay,” I tell him. “I know it will. Your size turns me on. Even more than that, you turn me on. I want to feel like you’re part of me. I need to feel you inside me.”

  “I’ll rip you in half.”

  “No, you won’t. I won’t let it happen.” I continue to gently stroke his erection with my hand, kiss and lick his hardness, and I move down so I’m straddling his hips, his huge member jutting up between us.

  “Even if you’re right, I can heal,” I say although we’ve had this disagreement before. “It’s one of the advantages of being a vampire.” I have his cock in both hands now, stroking slowly up and down the full length of him.

  He shakes his head. “I don’t want to hurt you, even if you can heal.”

  I think about some of the things Gray and I have done—both in his bedroom with his kinky toys and outside of it. Gray understands that a modicum of pain heightens my pleasure. And he knows that sometimes the only thing that can satisfy me is a hard, pounding fuck.

  But Rock’s looking at me with more than concern. It’s something else, something I don’t like.

  It’s shame. And he makes me feel ashamed of my needs.

  The shame spikes anger inside me. After all I’ve been through, I refuse to be shamed for wanting pleasure, for wanting sex, any kind of sex that I want—especially from a man that I love.

  But my anger passes as quickly as it came. This isn’t about me. Rock clearly has something in his past that’s made him believe he can’t make love to a woman, left him unable to enjoy sex.

  He’s helped me so much, and now it’s my turn to help him. The first time he put his mouth on me, put his fingers and his tongue inside me, was the first time I’d experienced sexual pleasure without hating myself for it, hating my body’s physiological reactions to stimulation.

  If I’d continued to associate pleasure with abuse, or to blame myself for reactions my body couldn’t prevent… I close my eyes for a moment. How different my life might have been if I hadn’t met Rock.

  “Baby.” I slide one of my hands over his lower torso, stroking gently and feeling his muscles ripple under my touch, watching and feeling his cock’s reaction in my other hand. “Feeling pleasure—with you—is what healed my trauma. If not for you, and Gray—” I can’t not mention Gray and be honest “—my mind might still be trapped in Xavier’s dungeon. I might be afraid to feel good.”

  “Acushla.”

  I slide up his body and look into his eyes.

  “Your past is another reason I’m sure we shouldn’t try this,” he says.

  “But I’m fine. Honest.” I take his face in my hands and appeal with my eyes.

  His are still filled with doubt.

  “You said you trusted me.”

  He draws a long breath and my body rises along with his chest like I’m surfing a wave.

  “If you trust me,” I add softly, “then you need to believe me when I say I’m okay. That I’ve recovered from what I went through.”

  He tips his head to the side, looking at me with concern. “You’re strong, but I don’t think you’re completely over what happened. I don’t think it’s possible—”

  I sigh. “Even if you’re right, every day I’m getting better—because of your love, your support and…and the pleasure you give me. Sharing pleasure with the men I love broke the connection I felt between sex and abuse.”

  “I’m glad of that.” His voice rumbles through me.

  “But you’re still holding back, Rock. I’m giving myself to you, fully, but you won’t do the same, and that hurts.”

  He frowns. “Not hurting you is the point.”

  “How can you know that you’ll hurt me if we don’t even try?”

  He looks away. “You don’t understand.”

  “Then tell me.”

  He shakes his head.

  “Please.” I slide down and place my hand at the base of his penis, my fingers unable to reach around, while my other hand gently strokes him elsewhere, everywhere I can reach. “It’s going to feel so good.”

  “Selina.” He almost never uses my name and it startles me. My hands still. So does my body that was rubbing against his thigh.

  “That act,” he says, not looking at me. “Fucking. It’s the most repulsive, revolting thing in the world to me. Even the idea of it.” His face twists in disgust. “You can get that from Gray—or Pike or Colton if that’s what you want—but not from me. Never from me.” His voice has raised in volume, shaking the room, my body.

  Studying his face, the agony I see causes physical pain for me too. My poor baby. He doesn’t understand what he’s missing. He says fucking disgusts him, but his cock remains hard. And he’s seen Gray and I together more than once, so clearly the act isn’t as repulsive to him as he claims. He’s afraid.

  Some time in his past he suffered from abuse, and if anyone can understand that it’s me. But I also know that feeling pleasure from sex healed my wounds, helped me forget the past. I have to believe it will do that for him too.

  “When is the last time you…you penetrated a woman?” I ask gently.

  “Over a hundred years ago.” His voice breaks, so full of sorrow.

  I nod, trying to hide my shock and show him with my eyes how much I feel his pain and reluctance and fear. To not have felt the inside of a woman for that long… My poor Rock. He clearly associates the act with his bad experiences, but together we can put that right. He’ll see.

  His giving me pleasure helped me get over my abuse and I can do the same for him. “Let me help you,” I say softly. “I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel. I want us to feel good together.”

  He looks into my eyes for a long time, then I see his resolve melting.

  “Okay. Let’s try. Untie me.” He tugs at his bindings.

  I shake my head. “You don’t need to do anything. Let me be in control. Then if it hurts I can stop.”

  He sighs as his head falls back to the pillow and his eyes close. He seems so wounded, and I want more than life to make it better. To make it all better. I feel sure that Rock has waited these hundred years to find the right woman, to find a woman who can handle his girth and love him for all that he is.

  I crouch on the bed over him, straightening my legs as I pull his hardness up to meet my slick wetness. I know this will hurt at first. That much is obvious. Even a normal-sized cock hurts if I’m not fully ready, and I should free his hands and let him stretch me with his fingers for a while first, maybe his fist, although I’m not sure that would be smaller. But I don’t want to give him time to change his mind.

  Once I get past the initial pain, my pleasure will be intense, and I know it will feel good for him.

  Shar
ing this together when we’re so fully in love will make the act unbelievably fulfilling—even better than it is with Gray because he won’t tell me he loves me. Rock is the heart of my heart and I’m that for him too.

  I press down.

  “Selina.” His voice is strained. “Careful.”

  “Trust me.” I swivel my hips and feel his thickness pressing firmly against me. Even this feels so good, and must feel good for him too, given the way he’s moaning, but being inside me will feel even better.

  Once I break down this barrier, he’ll be able to shed the shame from his past.

  I let my weight increase the pressure of his head against my opening. My body starts to yield, but there’s no way this will work without using more force.

  Fully straightening my legs, I raise onto my toes, then I drop. I grit my teeth as my body stretches, trying to let him in.

  He strains. The bedposts splinter. The entire headboard snaps under the pressure of his strength, and his cock slips out of my hand.

  He pulls up on his legs, the bed collapses, and I’m tossed to the side.

  Rock jumps off the mattress, tugs at the ropes, and pieces of splintered wood rain onto the bedroom floor as the frame smashes apart.

  “Rock, are you okay?”

  He looks away.

  Scrambling to my feet, I step toward him. “You didn’t hurt me. Honest.”

  He backs away from me. “I thought I could, but I can’t. You don’t understand.”

  “Then tell me. Please!” My chest is imploding. I wanted to help him get past his pain, but instead I’ve made it worse.

  “I can’t talk about it.” He’s staring at the floor, his body trembling. “Not right now.”

  “Rock.” My voice cracks along with my heart.

  “Go. Leave me alone. Please.”

  Chapter 5

  Selina

  I stagger out of the bedroom. My eyes no longer make tears like when I was human, but they’re stinging and tight and my vision’s blurry. My entire body hurts like I’ve been beaten, repeatedly punched in the stomach and chest and throat. It’s hard to breathe.

  What have I done?

  No means no. If anyone on the planet should understand that and respect it, it’s me, and yet I pushed. I thought I knew better.

  I stumble down the stairs to the main floor. I want to get as far away from Rock, as far away from everyone as I can, but the sun is up, so that option’s off the table.

  How can things have turned so bad so quickly? Just yesterday I felt like I belonged for the first time in my life. I saw the possibility of a real family with me and three men—possibly four—who would be with me for the rest of my life. I hadn’t fully appreciated what I imagined I had until now that it’s gone.

  Gray is facing a life sentence in jail, Pike is missing, Rock will probably never ever forgive what I’ve done—and if Colton remembers what I am, he’ll want me dead.

  I arrive in the kitchen, but even though the sun can’t burn me through the treated glass, its rays mock me, shame me. How can there be so much light when my world is so dark? Darker than even when I was held for months in that dungeon. Then, I hadn’t yet let myself imagine how wonderful my life could be.

  I head for the basement. Maybe if I punch and kick the bags for a while, I can numb this horrible feeling.

  Not turning on the lights, I start pounding one of the largest punching bags that holds a literal ton of gravel. It’s fastened to both the floor and ceiling to keep it from swinging, and the rocks crunch against each other under the heavy leather as I thrust, again and again, my arms moving so quickly the sound is like a roar. The building feels like it’s shaking.

  I’m angry with myself for trying to push Rock into doing something he clearly didn’t want, but I wish I could understand.

  I’ve suffered trauma, significant trauma, and for me, facing it—replacing the bad memories with good ones—helped me heal. And for Rock it’s been a hundred years since whatever happened. Whatever it is he won’t tell me.

  I hate that he’s still suffering, it makes me hurt inside to see him in pain, and I wish there was a way I could show him that sex between us could be a beautiful, transformative experience for us both.

  “What the fuck did that bag do to you?” A voice comes out of the darkness.

  I stop my pounding and turn. Pike’s amber eyes flash from the corner.

  “You’re here.”

  “Apparently.” He doesn’t move from where he’s leaning at the opposite side of the room. It’s the same way he used to stand in the corner of the baths in Xavier’s court, watching, not moving, looming but apart from everyone else in the room.

  Back then I found it menacing, sinister, but now it makes my heart hurt. I didn’t realize my heart could carry more pain that it held when I came down here, but now it feels crushed.

  Pike is in pain too. He’s been living in such isolation.

  Rock’s damage only manifests in sexual situations. In the rest of his life he is social, has friends, a business. Rock goes about the world sharing his joy with others, but Pike…Pike is a mess. How have I not fully seen this before?

  “Are you okay?” I step toward him.

  “Me?” He shrugs. “You’re the one who’s bleeding.”

  Only now noticing my own pain, I lift my hands. Blood drips onto the floor, and my hands are mangled. Every bone in my hands could be broken—and based on the angles, my wrists too.

  My legs give out, no longer able to support the weight of all that’s happened, and I drop. I tip to the side, but before my shoulder hits the floor, Pike catches me.

  Holding my body, he sits behind me, his legs extending wide on either side, and I lean back into his chest.

  “If you want,” he says softly, his voice like gravel, “you can tell me what’s wrong.”

  The warmth of his body against my back is comforting. No other part of our bodies are touching, just my upper back and head against his chest, but it’s like I’m cocooned, swaddled in warm, tight blankets.

  My hands ache acutely as the bones, muscles and tendons knit back together, trying to find their rightful positions so that they can be useful again. I breathe deeply through that pain, not to mention the deeper pain inside me.

  I can’t talk to Pike about Rock. The core of that trauma is Rock’s to share, and I just wish he’d share it with me, with anyone.

  “Where did you go?” I ask. “When you left the ravine?”

  “Nowhere.”

  “Well, I’m glad you came back here,” I say. “I was worried.”

  “About me? Why?”

  “You disappeared. I didn’t know… I hoped you’d find someplace safe before dawn.”

  His body shifts back and I shift with him. He must be leaning against the punching bag now that’s likely soaked in my blood. He doesn’t object to my leaning and I’m glad. I need the contact. I’m not nearly ready to leave my cocoon.

  “I shouldn’t have come back here,” he says so quietly I almost don’t hear.

  “Why?” I flex my fingers, able to move them now, even though they aren’t fully healed.

  “I’m a fucking coward.” His voice rumbles through me from behind.

  “You’re not a coward.” My nearly healed hands itch to touch his thick thighs, so close to mine I feel their heat. “How can you possibly think that?

  “Oh, I don’t know. How about, instead of staking that bitch, I ran. Let Gray take the blame. How is that not a coward?”

  I see last night’s events through his eyes, but his interpretation is skewed.

  “If you hadn’t distracted Zora, Gray wouldn’t have been able to stake her. And if you’d stayed, it would have added complications when the police came. More questions. Colton knows Gray. That made it easier.”

  Or it did, until Colton put on his goggles and realized what Gray was. Until Colton nearly killed me. But adding these details will only add to Pike’s guilt and there’s no point in sharing them. Not right now an
yway.

  “Is Gray upstairs?”

  I shake my head against the T-shirt covering Pike’s chest. “No.”

  He stiffens behind me. “Did the cops… Is he…”

  “He’s alive. FJS took him in—for vampircide.”

  “Fuck.” He punches his thigh. “I knew I should have stayed. I should be the one in jail, not Grayson.”

  “Pike.” I twist my head, trying to see his eyes. “Gray killed her, not you.”

  “Because I’m a coward.”

  “No, because it took both of you to make it happen. You two saved me. I would never have had the strength to do what needed to be done. She…she had a pull on me.”

  “She was your Maker,” he says. “You couldn’t hurt her.”

  I love that he gets this. That he says it like it’s obvious and I have nothing to feel bad about. The cocoon he created for me soothes me further. My hands and wrists are healed, but touching his legs feels too sexual, intrusive after what happened upstairs, so I reach behind me and find his head.

  His neck stiffens when I first make contact, but then I feel his body relax as I trace my fingers over his thick neck and into his hair. As I caress, seeing him with only my hands, I realize my fingers are touching his scars. They trace the hard ridges, like a map of his pain, a map of what made Pike into the man I once feared.

  Now, it seems like it’s Pike who fears me. He tenses each time my fingers explore new terrain, then he relaxes when I don’t pull away. Perhaps I’ve always had it backward. Perhaps, on some level, Pike was always as afraid of me as I was of him—but for different reasons.

  “What’s going to happen to Gray?” he asks softly.

  “I don’t know.” I shift, and love how Pike’s body, his breath, his heartbeat all react behind me. “They’re keeping Gray until dusk, at a minimum. Maybe longer. Malcolm, that’s Astrid’s Mate, he came by the bar and told us.”

  “I shouldn’t have left.” His hands form fists over his thighs. “Does FJS know I was there? That I ran?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so.” I honestly can’t remember right now whether Gray or I mentioned Pike, but I don’t think we did. “Why?”