Combust (A Hotter Than Hell Novel Book 6)

by Holly S. Roberts

  Something changes when he realizes I’m watching. His hand slowly lowers and he wipes sweat from his brow with the side of his forearm. His hands shake as he slides the leather back through his fingers.

  Scalding heat radiates from my body. I’m immersed in agony and I love it. I can’t stop shaking and crying while he unties my hands. Part of me wants to fight him off. I want to use the belt and beat him. I want to freeze the image of his eyes on my brain and remember it when I meet death at my brother’s hands.

  I’m only half aware that Austin stands naked over me. He picks up the belt again and I whimper. Do I want more? Can I take it? He rolls me to my back and I’m ready for the experience to begin again.

  The bed gives as he straddles my legs. “Please,” I whisper. He slips the leather beneath my neck and slides the end through the buckle. I panic and roll to my stomach. He pushes down against my back with his arm hurting my still fresh tattoo and holds me there with his knee.

  The pressure on my back eases when he forces my legs open. “Put your knees beneath you,” he demands.

  “No,” I say as I shake my head. I have no idea why I’m terrified.

  My unwillingness doesn’t stop him. With a growl, he pushes one of my knees up followed by the other. It’s uncomfortable because of my spread legs. I don’t have time to struggle before his cock pushes inside me and he tightens his hold on the belt. I gurgle as the belt cuts off my oxygen. Within seconds, he eases up and allows me to breathe. My gasps for air end when he clenches the belt tight again. He’s pumping into me furiously, his hot breath on my middle back, on the brand he’s put there. This time the clench around my throat is longer. Darkness clouds my vision after a few seconds and I start fighting.

  “Hold still,” he whispers gruffly in my ear. The belt loosens while Austin repeatedly rams into me. He won’t kill me, I tell my oxygen-deprived brain as I try to absorb what’s happening. The assault on my pussy, the tightening of the belt around my throat…there’s beauty in the depravity. My body comes alive and the feel of his rigid cock fills my senses. The slapping of our bodies and loud breathing add to the erotic scene. My cries turn to a gasping need for air when he tightens the belt again. So many things run through my cloudy brain as sensation takes over.

  His weight against my back, the smell of sex, the feel of sex. The weeks I’ve been imprisoned by this man. All thought sweeps through my head and centers in my pussy as he slams inside me and takes what he needs. What do I need? I think through the fog.

  Suddenly I want to laugh because my need to fight the constriction around my throat dies. My legs are rubber and slide from beneath me. Austin releases the belt and turns me over before entering me again. My legs are too weak to wrap around his. The look in his eyes takes me to another place. The green is so lush I want to touch them. My hands splay to either side of my head and I manage to grab handfuls of hair, my fingers digging painfully into the strands. Everything inside me centers on where our bodies join. His eyes close and lines furrow his cheeks as he continues pounding in and out. Euphoria takes over and I’m in another place. No pain, no regret, no hatred. Austin takes me there. A solid thrust pushes me higher in the bed and leaves me gasping. Austin’s hot seed fills me and I take it with soul shattering joy.

  The burn on my ass and legs. The ache in my pussy, the solid weight of Austin making it hard to breathe. I hold on, my fingers no longer in my hair but digging into his skin. Our bodies stay joined and I wonder what he feels at this exact moment. We’re wet with mingled sweat and sex. Two people who should hate each other.

  I don’t want hate.

  Austin rolls from my body, taking his cock with him. I’m unfulfilled and yet full. Free might be a better word. He runs his hand through my hair, and I push my head into his fingers. Our connection is still there. His fingers trail lower—over my neck to my breast. He pinches my nipple and rolls it between his fingers, igniting a slow burn between my legs. I have no idea where the tears come from. One minute his fingers bring need and the next an overwhelming sense of nothingness. I pull away and curl into the smallest ball possible. My tears flow unchecked. I’m aware of the warm leather belt sliding from my neck but little else. A light touch on my face is followed by him pushing my hair aside. I turn away so he can’t see the real me.

  “Come here,” he says and without waiting lifts me over him where I collapse against his warm body. I bury my face in his chest unsure what more he wants. I don’t think I have anything left to give. My energy, my will to survive completely drain away with my tears.

  “It’s the way I’m wired,” Austin says into the room. Is he apologizing for showing me the light through the darkness? “Here,” he pulls my legs and bends them so they’re on either side of his. I’m his malleable doll unable to control my own body. He slides his hand over the back of my hair allowing me to sob into his chest while he holds me.

  I have no idea how long I cry. He gently takes my head between his palms and forces my neck back. “Melina, look at me,” he orders softly.

  I don’t want to open my eyes. I want to run away. I want to die and end all the pain and suffering I’ve been through. I want to see my mother again, but if there’s actually a heaven I won’t be going. I’m too fucked up and filled with hate.

  “Melina.” This time his voice is sharper.

  I peer at Austin through burning eyes staring into a beautiful ocean of green. His intensity grounds me and the swirling uncertainties push aside. He shifts my body until I’m poised above him. “It’s your turn, Melina. I’m hard for you again,” he whispers with his gaze locked on mine.

  The dumbest thing comes out of my mouth. “You didn’t use a condom,” I murmur. The words are dumb because my brother will kill me long before any disease.

  “I can’t give you children and I’m clean. Unless the guy you tangled with in that closet is dirty, we’re good.”

  The world is slowly coming back into focus. “You just beat the shit out of me,” I whimper with a shuddering breath.

  “And you loved it. Fuck me, Melina, and help me forget.”

  Maybe that’s what sex is all about. A time to forget the outside world and give our bodies what they crave. “Even if I beat you?” I bat my eyes and give him a small grin.

  “Do your worst.” He grins back.

  I look around the bed and see the belt a few inches from my feet. Tempting fate, I reach back and snag it. His grin disappears and his eyes go a deeper green. The leather is smooth and I know from very recent experience that it can be painful. My fingers flex on the leather and in my mind I picture my arm lifting. This isn’t me. I don’t want to hurt him. We are wired differently. I’ll take the pain he gives but that’s not what I want to give in return. I toss the belt across the room. “I can’t.”

  Something changes subtly in his eyes. “That’s okay, do whatever you want.” He closes his eyes for a moment. When they open, the intensity is back. “Show me how you want to fuck, Melina. Teach me.”

  I know nothing about fucking, but that doesn’t stop instinct from taking over. Our gazes remain locked. He lifts his hips and eases his cock against me so I feel every inch slide along the lips of my pussy. It feels incredible. I slide my hands onto his hard chest, my nipples brushing against him as I lean closer so our breaths mingle. I rise to my knees above him and this time it’s me grinding against his cock. I’m sore, but it’s a pleasure-filled pain. I still want him. I may want him forever.

  I lean in and circle his nipple with my tongue. His eyes close and a groan escapes his lips. I lavish his nipples, which sends fire through my body. My breasts feel heavy. I don’t plan what I do next. The hard nub currently between my lips is too much to resist and I bite down. I guess I was wrong about hurting him.

  “Fuck.” He jerks up and grabs my head. I lift my lower body enough to take him inside me. I descend slowly, watching his eyes drift almost closed again. His cock consumes me as it fills the ache he left behind earlier. His fingers wrap into my hair and he
draws my mouth closer to his. I open for him and his tongue slides inside. The kiss starts slow and languid, much like the pace of my hips rocking slowly on his cock. My pussy throbs as he fills me again and again. Austin’s fingers tighten in my hair and the kiss changes. His tongue can’t go deep enough, my lips can’t taste enough. I need more and our slow kiss turns into a war of tongue and teeth. I bite his lip and taste blood. He pulls away before I do it again. His fingers grasp my waist and he increases the tempo to match our ragged breath and assault on our mouths. He pulls me back in for another kiss. Our tongues thrust and our bodies rock together in a motion that turns the ache inside me to a burning inferno. I keep up his rhythm when he palms my breasts and squeezes. I moan when he pinches my nipples. I lean down and bite his shoulder. He groans until I unclamp my teeth.

  My thighs tremble and fire races across my skin. I can’t get enough air into my lungs. I stand at the precipice as I piston on Austin’s cock feeling my orgasm build, needing to come and yet not wanting this to be over. His fingers sink into my hips again and he guides me incredibly faster. I lean back, sitting up straight, and dig my nails into his thighs. He rises to his forearms, his gaze focused where our bodies join. The muscles in his neck stand out, and for the first time, I feel my power. I want him undone. I want him to feel something…anything…everything.

  “Fuck, Melina,” he groans and the vibration carries through my veins, settling in my pussy as my walls pulse. I’m past words. I’m burning from the inside out and have no way to stop it. Not that I want to. He bucks up suddenly and I groan too. His hands move to my cheeks pulling me closer. He holds me as we stare at each other and allow our bodies to ride out the storm. He watches me as my body stops fighting and the orgasm rips through me. He takes my lips in a brutal kiss as spasms come impossibly harder. I can barely keep my eyes open as the waves drown me.

  Before the orgasm ends, he pulls me off him, flips me over, and drives into me. He doesn’t need to tell me to pull my knees up. I’m with him this time. His cock impales me and when his fingers circle my throat, I don’t fight it. His hand at my throat excites me as more pulses consume me. My body responds and the heat builds. Austin’s strokes are violent and one orgasm rolls into another.

  “Don’t stop. Don’t stop,” I gasp between the breaths he allows.

  My legs tighten involuntarily and my stomach fizzes as the pulses become a raging firestorm. This man owns me. He drives in harder and faster until he grunts and slams against me so forcefully I scream. Using my hair, he draws my head back. I don’t fight him as the pressure on my throat goes tighter than before. My eyes lose focus and dark clouds fill my vision. Austin’s shout fills the room and more of his warmth invades me. It runs down my thighs while he pumps in and out.

  I want to die this way. The light fades and still his hand grips my throat. Do it, I silently beg. Kill me. Take me out of this fucked up world and give me peace. Blood pounds in my head, darkness turns to a single light in the distance.

  I’m happy.

  I suck air into my lungs when his fingers let up. He collapses beside me and my legs give out so I’m flat on my stomach. He squeezes my hip and then runs his fingers up my back over the marked flesh he’s made his own. I’ve given him everything and there’s nothing left.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Austin

  Holy fuck I’m out of my league. The escorts I pay agree to my deviance. I’d go to jail if I picked up a woman in a bar and beat the fuck out of her. Melina begged and I delivered my soul on a platter for her taking. The fucking soul I didn’t know I have.

  Victor encouraged my sexual deviance. He fired the flames by providing women who could handle me. I paid exorbitant amounts of money to the escorts and they always came back for more. Everyone was happy, or so I made Victor believe. The truth is, I hated the women and only used them to relieve the pressure in my balls. I hated that I couldn’t have a normal relationship.

  Melina takes away the revulsion I’ve lived with since I was a teenager. I’ve only given her pain and darkness while taking so much. And still she wanted me and never shied away from the beast. Unafraid, she also trusted her life within my hands. The filthy hands of a killer.

  I’m stunned when she wiggles beside me, slowly lifts my hand, and draws it to her mouth. She places a kiss on the backs of my fingers and smiles. I gaze at her and smile back like a fool. My fingers glide over the welts and bruises on her ass and thighs. I stayed clear of the plastic wrap. Nothing, not even the aberration I am, will destroy the masterpiece inked into her flesh. I trace the red and white stripes on one thigh, sending another thrill to my cock. Down boy, she’s had enough.

  “Does it hurt?” I whisper. I’ve never cared. I’ve never given thought to a woman after I’ve fucked her.

  “Perfectly,” she says with another grin. So much is in that one word.

  I would say I’m sorry for the pain but she doesn’t need an apology. The thrill of the belt hitting flesh still fills my ears. I tried to hold back the tide when I hit her. The more she moaned and screamed the more my beast unleashed. And she took it all.

  I finger the wrap on her lower back and ass. “Do you want to see?”

  “No,” she whispers and then hesitates for a moment. “I want to like you for a little bit longer.”

  Like me? That’s almost funny. Her skin is a masterpiece and she doesn’t want to see it. The ink makes her more beautiful in my eyes and I want her to understand it went so much further than revenge. The portrait on her skin is for her. “Go to sleep,” I say instead. Maybe this is why making love has never been in my playbook. Only anger, revenge, and death have a place in my life.

  “The basement is waiting for me,” she mumbles sleepily.

  “Not tonight.”

  She closes her eyes on a long exhale. I watch her until I’m sure she’s asleep. Sliding from the bed, I take my phone off the dresser and walk naked from the room.

  I dial a familiar number unsure if he’ll answer this late. “Moon,” I say when the phone clicks.

  “I hope you want me to pick up the woman who’s causing so much trouble?”

  My gut twists. “Five days,” I tell him. “Pick her up here at the main house and she’s all yours as long as she’s going straight back to her brother.”

  “You have my word.”

  I end the call. Five days with Melina isn’t enough and that’s the scary part. I need her skin unmarred by the belt when her brother sees her. I can’t touch her again. Five fucking days to know what I will miss for the rest of my life. Somehow I need to shake her from my system and follow the plan. Somehow I need to forget her after she’s gone.

  I decide to make business phone calls while she sleeps. I need space right now. An hour later, when my resolve is stronger, I return to bed. She’s spread eagle in the middle of the mattress and my lips twitch. She’s a bed hog. I shouldn’t sleep beside her, but for this one last night, I want to hold her against me and imprint her memory on my skin. I slide her over, crawl in, and circle my arm beneath her. She makes a small sound and I kiss her nose before pulling her in tight to my body, where she belongs.

  ∞∞∞

  My eyes snap open the next morning. Light streams through the windows and I know immediately Melina isn’t beside me. I can’t believe I didn’t wake up when she left the bed. Fuck. I charge into the main part of the house intending to head outside naked. I don’t want my guards touching her. The smell of bacon stops me before I throw open the front door. When I near the kitchen, she’s humming softly. I round the corner and my cock appreciates the view. She’s wearing my T-shirt with her long bare legs on display. Damn, the bruises on the backs of her thighs are glorious. She turns with a spatula in hand and jumps slightly. Her smile grows slowly along with a heavy blush. She fucking lights up the room.

  My insides clench.

  I don’t do romance or tender feelings. I also never allow women to sleep in my bed or make me breakfast the morning after. I don’t fucking do the
morning after.

  “Not that I mind, but did you forget your pants?” She’s fighting another grin and all I want to do is pick her up and carry her back to bed.

  I’m only naked because I thought she left. Not that my men would allow it, but I wasn’t really thinking when I ran out of the bedroom. “I would ask what you’re doing but it’s fairly obvious.” The words are tight.

  Her joyful expression fades. “You’re angry.”

  I’m not angry. Not exactly. I just don’t fucking know how I should react right now. I’m not good with change and this drastic change is not something I’ll ever be good at. I like routine. I like being alone. Having her in the basement was a close second to having my own space.

  My gaze snaps back to hers when she speaks. “It’s the kidnapper thing, isn’t it? The kidnapper code says I can’t make breakfast. I should be tied and hidden away in the basement. I should be terrified,” she teases and her eyes twinkle. She’s laughing at me because I’m being an ass. “Am I getting close?” she asks with slightly pursed lips.

  She has no idea. “I’ll grab my pants,” I say to avoid where this conversation is heading. I walk from the kitchen expecting her laughter to follow. She never does the expected and whistles instead. I fight a fucking smile.

  A few minutes later, I head into the kitchen dressed in slacks and a shirt. She’s placing our breakfast on the table. There’s something entirely fucked up with this picture and I scowl. I say nothing as she serves me and then sits on the opposite side of the table. She looks down at her plate and remains quiet. Why the hell does it even bother me?

  The food smells delicious, I think grumpily. “I’m not accustomed to someone cooking for me.” It’s my white flag and she takes it by handing me a plate of bacon. I enjoy cooking for myself. After I turned eighteen, Cindy cooked for me only on rare occasions. I preferred to cook my own food and eat in my room.