Fighting to Forget

by J. B. Salsbury

  “Open your eyes.”

  She does and I have to hold back my reaction at seeing the war waging behind them. What’s she thinking?

  “Talk to me.”

  “I want to touch you.”

  I check her hands again, still gripped tight to the bed cover. “Yeah? Does it hurt?”

  “Yes.” Her voice cracks.

  I’m rock hard with power. Knowing that I’m torturing her in some way feels so good it makes me light-headed. Her wanting to touch me so badly that it’s causing her discomfort is turning me on and making me forget. But her hurting with a need so deep that she’d deny herself the relief in order to please me? She’s giving me ultimate supremacy, and fuck if that doesn’t make me want to give her everything.

  My head spins with the weight of it all. I beat back the confusion and give myself permission to feel, to live in the moment and suck all the good I can from it before I lose it.

  Pushing myself up, I throw a leg over her tiny body, straddling her at the hips. Her eyes flare. Towering over her, she looks so small, helpless, and absolutely stunning.

  I reach back and tug my shirt over my head, tossing it to the ground beside the bed. Her arms jerk, but she doesn’t release her hands.

  “Good girl.” I take a moment, noticing that the pale skin of her chest is now pink; her breasts jump with every hiccupped breath. But even through all this, she obeys and stays still. “Thank you for giving me this.”

  She nods with a few quick bounces of her head, but her eyes don’t meet mine. They’re on my chest, moving between my piercings before dropping down to my abs. I watch her eyes as they devour my body, and a frantic desire blazes beneath my skin.

  I need to feel her on me. All over me.

  “Give me your hand.” I hold my hand just inches from her fist, giving her the choice to obey.

  She places it in mine, and the moisture on her palm is the evidence of her suffering. I smile and bring it to my lips, placing a kiss against her clammy skin. Unable to deny myself her taste for a second longer, I drag my tongue from the heel of her palm to her middle finger and up the pads before slipping the tip into my mouth. My eyes fight to stay open against the salty taste that floods my senses. She groans and circles her hips, grinding into my ass. Fuck, but her writhing body below me, held down by my weight, is so damn hot.

  Kissing the pad of her finger, I pull her hand down, controlling the slow pace of her touch against my neck, my clavicle, and finally my chest over the crashing throb of my heart. I release her hand to give her back control.

  She studies my expression, asking for permission. I nod, suck in a deep breath, and hold it. Waiting.

  Finally, after what seems like forever, she moves. Her touch glides along my pecs, alternating between tracing the pattern of my tattoos and marking her own path. Some passes are gentle and others she allows her nails to drag, raising goose bumps on my arms. Her fingers close around the barbell of my nipple and tug. I groan and drop my head. She tugs again.

  Harder. Make it hurt.

  The words are on the tip of my tongue, but in an effort to keep things a few steps shy of perverted, I lock them down. We’ve come so far, and telling her that I want her to hurt me will destroy the progress we’ve made.

  Once she’s thoroughly explored my chest, she lays her hand back down on the bed as if she’s waiting for the next command.

  Hope flares in my chest. She’s making this so easy. For the first time I feel . . . normal. I could get used to this.

  I push up on my knees and shimmy down her body. “Don’t forget to speak up.” She nods, understanding from last time that if I’m going beyond her comfort zone she needs to let me know.

  I hook the elastic waistband of her pants and pull them down. She lifts her ass and holds up one leg at a time until she’s lying in nothing but a pair of lace panties.

  “Black. My favorite color.” I run my knuckles up the inside of her thigh and allow my fingers to rest between her legs. “As pretty as these are, baby.”—I pass my knuckles up, down, and up again—“I’m thinking what’s underneath is much prettier.”

  She bites her lip and presses against my hand.

  “Good girl.” I tug her panties down her thighs and get my first full visual of her completely naked. The air rushes out of my lungs, and I blink against the assaulting wave of arousal that hits me hard. “Fuckin’ look at you.”

  Her bare pale skin beckons my touch. I run my hands from her ankles to her thighs, reading her resulting goose bumps like Braille. I record to memory the places I touch that make her tense and the others that make her melt into the bed.

  My mouth waters, a familiar feeling when I hook up with a chick, but this time it’s not the nausea-accompanied saliva that rushes to my mouth. This is hunger, pure, simple, animalistic starvation.

  I pull her leg up and rest it against my shoulder, exposing her completely. She moans drops her head to the side. A low rolling growl rumbles in my chest, and I lick my lips. Everything about her from the tips of her hair to her toes is so damn gorgeous. “I was right. Beautiful.”

  Her breath catches in her throat. “Thank you,” she says in a reverent and sincere whisper.

  I kiss the inside of her calf once, twice, and then move to her inner thigh. She squirms and arches her back off the bed.

  “Easy, baby.” My fingers dig in to the flesh of her hip holding her down.

  She groans, seeming frustrated, but nods, again, suffering for my pleasure. It makes me wonder what else she’d do for me, what lengths she’d go to if she knew it’d make me happy.

  My mind whirls with visions, our bodies slamming together, violent crashes of skin on skin. I pinch my eyes closed, pushing back the thoughts and pulling in the peace. I won’t do that to her. I’m in control. I’m in total control.

  I open my eyes to find her staring up at me, waiting.

  “You good?”

  “Yeah.” I continue to caress her skin and move further down until my shoulders lie between her thighs. “More than good.”

  Hooking her other leg over my shoulder, I dip down and run my mouth back and forth against her. Her heels dig into my back and she lifts herself to me in offering.

  I push her hips back down onto the bed. “Still.”

  She relaxes and her legs fall open. I dip forward, take the first taste and groan in satisfaction.

  Her legs clamp tight around my shoulders. “Oh my . . .”

  “Shhhh . . .” My breath against her smooth, wet flesh makes her shiver. I smile and use the flat part of my tongue to put pressure where she needs it most.

  I devour her, making sure to feel her against my lips, raking my piercing against her sensitive skin, and enjoying the soft sounds that fall from her lips. More, deeper, I lift her hips to angle her body just right.

  A surge of desire rockets through my veins. My eyes drop closed, and I imagine the warm silk on my tongue wrapped around my dick as I plunge into her body. I use my lip ring again, over and over against her until she’s writhing.

  She moans and her stomach muscles contract. I’m in control, and yet it’s me who’s being tortured. So close, but not nearly close enough.

  Her body reacts to every flick of my tongue and her chest jumps with rushed breath, every response driving away my demons. One more kiss to her aroused flesh and I pull back. She whimpers her protest. I pull a condom from my back pocket and pop the button on my pants.

  She moans and throws her forearm over her eyes.

  “Mac, baby, look at me.”

  She drops her arm and meets my stare.

  “I want you to watch.” It’s sick, controlling, and pushy, but I need to feel her eyes on me and stay locked in the hunger. I drown in her anticipation, the longing, desire; it keeps me focused on us and not on the shit that I’m fighting to keep in the dark.

  I unzip my pants and push them down low enough to expose what she does to me. Keeping my eyes on her, I rip open the condom wrapper with my teeth and slowly sheath mysel
f. Inch by inch I watch in fascination at Mac’s eyes on me. Want turns to need, and need turns to desperation.

  With my dick in my hand, I stroke and she licks her lips. “Turn over.”

  Her eyes dart from my hips to my face and her eyebrows pinch together. “But I want to see you.”

  I’ve never done it face to face. I’m sure I could, eventually, but things are going so well I’m nervous to try something new. “Mac . . .”

  “Please. I . . . it’s important to me.” She slides back and pushes up to her knees so that her position matches mine only a foot away. “I’ll keep my hands to myself or not talk, whatever you want, just . . . give me this?”

  I’d give you anything.

  “I’ll try.” My voice lacks the confidence it had earlier and she has to hear it. I run my hand down the side of her face, forking my fingers into her hair. “Come here.”

  She sits up, pushes to her knees, and walks them closer until my dick presses against the softness of her belly. The heat, although muted through the condom, gives me a taste of what’s to come. I groan and flex my hips, eager to be inside her sweet body.

  Tugging her to me, I tilt my head and cover her lips with mine. The combination of her taste still on my tongue and the wet of her mouth makes my stomach flip with the urge to fuck her raw, to pound into her until she cries out and begs me to stop.

  No. Fuck!

  I break the kiss and run my hand down to her breast to cup it before lowering my lips to it. She drops her head back and sighs, the sound so sweet I’m voracious for more. I’d steal for it, fight for it, and kill for it. I suck her nipple deep into my mouth and she gasps loudly. I squeeze my eyes closed.

  I don’t want to hurt her. I don’t.

  I won’t.

  Back and forth between her breasts, I use my tongue, teeth, lip ring, and everything my mouth has to offer, against the tight pink tips. She leans back, her hands flying to my shoulders to stay upright. Her fingers bite into my flesh, holding on.

  Holding me still.

  Holding . . .

  The back of my throat aches and my stomach lurches. I flinch, but mange to keep myself from shoving her away.

  The evil pushes at the threshold of my mind, wanting to take this from me, destroy the good, and steal any chance I have at happiness.

  I’m capable of more than I think.

  I have to be, because the alternative isn’t good enough anymore.

  Dragging my mouth from her breast, I hook the back of her neck and pull her up to support her own weight. Her eyes are hooded and her lips parted, midnight hair falls over her shoulders, veiling her milky white skin.

  “Are you okay?” The concern in her whispered words brings the warmth of familiarity.

  It makes no sense but feels so right. I smile and nod. “Nothing’s going to be the same after this.”

  “God, Rex . . .” Her hand glides from my shoulder to my jaw and the fog of arousal clears from her eyes. She runs her thumb along my cheek with a look I’ve never gotten from another human being. “I hope you’re right.”

  What is that look? I’ve seen it, the one Jonah gives Raven when she’s not looking and has her hand resting on the bump of their unborn baby. I’ve seen it on Layla when Blake’s dealing with Axelle, giving her advice or just shooting the shit. It’s not love; it’s more concrete. Tangible. Protected. Nothing in the world can touch it.

  And having that communicated through the woman before me, naked, needy, willing to do whatever I want, I’m not only capable, I’m ready.

  I slide my hand around her neck. The possessive hold makes her pulse race against my palm and my dick throb between my legs. Her hand drops from my face and she takes a deep breath.

  I pull her to me and place a soft kiss on her lips. “Walk your knees apart.” I keep her collared but run my thumb along her neck in a soothing stroke. “I wish you could see how amazing you look.” I run my free hand down her arm to her hip and trace my fingertips inward to the spot I can still taste on my lips. “I like that there’s nothing here to hide you from my eyes.”

  A heavy moan rumbles in her chest and she thrusts her hips.

  I chuckle at her eagerness and have no intention of making her wait. “Yeah. I want it too.” Sliding two fingers between her legs I bite my lip at the feel of her readiness. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” I thrust my fingers inside and stop at the gripping pressure.

  I slide my thumb up the side of her throat and back down, urging her to relax. When I sense that she’s okay I move my fingers in and out at a leisurely pace, giving her a chance to get used to the intrusion.

  Her hips pull back and thrust in opposition to mine. She’s ready for more, and I’m in no position to deny her.

  She whines when I pull my hand from the warmth of her body. I grip between my legs and swallow the sour taste pushing up my throat before pulling her in for a kiss. She sucks my bottom lip and bites my lip ring before releasing it. I’m wound up and so damn excited to have gotten this far. The rest is easy.

  “Hold on tight, baby,” I say against her lips and then release my hold on her neck and grip her ass. Pressing my knees together, I slide them between hers so that she’s straddled over my thighs.

  She barely gets her hands on my shoulders when I slam inside, burying myself in her heat. Her sharp cry echoes off the walls.

  “Fuck, I’m sorry.” I didn’t mean to hurt her. I wanted to go slow, but once I felt her taking me I lost it. “Talk to me.”

  “I’m okay.” She nods. “Really, I’m fine.”

  I give her a second she clearly doesn’t need as her eyes lock on mine and she starts to move. My hands grip her hips, holding her still. She groans in frustration.

  “Shh, baby.” I lean in and take her nipple into my mouth. She relaxes and drops her weight onto me. I thrust up; her fingers dive into my hair, holding me to her breast.

  One hand on the bed behind me to brace my weight, I use the other to fist a handful of her ass and squeeze hard. I growl against her bare breast, and she arches her hips into mine.

  “Yes.” She pulls my hair.

  The sting is so sweet, so disgustingly familiar. I fight the shame of enjoying the pain and thrust into her faster. Harder. Every powerful lift of my hips is an attempt to destroy the ugly that won’t back off.

  My vision clouds; darkness falls over my eyes. Flashes, visions. Hands touching, violating. The hollow shame of helplessness.

  “Fuck!” My hips piston, hands ripping against her flesh. Holding on, pushing away, gripping, hurting.

  Dammit!

  The ghost of whispered words. Dirty. Bad. Ugly.

  “Leave me alone.” I cringe against the weakness I hear in my voice.

  Her muscles tense. “Rex?”

  No. They don’t get this moment. This is mine.

  With a guttural roar, I shove up and throw her back to the bed. I slam into her, smothering her tiny body with mine. “I’m sorry.”

  Her legs lock around the back of my knees. “Don’t be. I’m with you. Take it out on me.”

  I bury my face into her neck and she holds me there. Her arms wrap around my shoulders, holding me to her while I war with the hideous visions that won’t let up.

  My lungs contract. No air. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I’d take the pain for you.” Her fingers sift into my hair. “Take what you need from me. I want you to.”

  I push up and find fire and determination in her eyes.

  “I’m serious, Rex.” She holds my face to hers, gazes locked. “Take it.”

  Resolution ignites a need so deep I push up on my hands and stare down at her. She takes a long breath, drops her hands to the bed, and nods.

  I roll my lip between my teeth and grind into her. She moans, taunting my inner demons.

  My hips drive forward. Once. Twice. Harder. Faster.

  She arches her back, shifting her position. The friction sends her head back, digging into the pillow. Her legs fall open wider, allowin
g me more freedom to move.

  I’m overcome. The combination of her willing body submitting to me and the feel of her gripping heat drives me on.

  Perfect, amazing.

  Her hooded eyes fix on mine. “Rex, I’m . . .”

  I drop my forehead and throw my weight behind my hips. My shoulders burn and muscles ache with the intensity of it.

  She locks her legs around my hips and cries out my name. Her fingernails dig into my biceps, and she convulses beneath me, around me, so much so I feel it in my damn blood.

  Need takes over and I barrel into her. My guts get tight. Nausea rolls through my stomach. I swallow it back and fight the urge to stay in the moment.

  Her body falls limp beneath mine. My orgasm threatens and I’m helpless to stop it. My eyes pinch shut and I bite my lip. White flashes behind my eyes. My release explodes from my body. Fuck!

  I’m dizzy; a wave of euphoria robs my muscles of the strength to hold up my weight. I drop to her body, heaving against her bare breast. I wait for the surge of vomit, for the urgent rush to purge my body of the ugly. Seconds pass, and nothing.

  She holds me tight; her fingers dance a path up and down my spine. “Rex, I . . . Are you good?”

  Am I good? I blow out a long breath and do a quick mental check. All systems are go. No vomit on the horizon. “I think I am. You?”

  I look up and a slow sated smile curls her lips. “I definitely am.”

  “You’re amazing.” I brush her sexy-as-hell sexed-up hair from her face.

  She grins wide and covers her face. A giggle bubbles up from behind her hand.

  I smile at her lighthearted laugh, still amazed that I’m not getting sick. “’Lotta bad things have happened to me after sex, baby, but being laughed at ain’t one of them.” I bury my face into her neck and absorb the vibration against my lips.

  “I’m sorry; it’s not funny. I just”—she sucks in a breath—“I don’t remember the last time I was this happy.”

  “Mmm.” I run my lips up and down the side of her neck, taking in her scent.

  Still connected, she wraps her legs around my waist and locks her ankles. The move restricts me, clamping me to her, holding me in place. A ghost of panic slides up my spine but fails to take shape. I’m safe. She won’t hurt me. My shoulders relax with the freedom of accomplishment. Battle after battle won in the war for my future. All when I’m with her.