Damage

by Natasha Knight

  “There’s no problem. I—”

  “Problem is you don’t yet know that you’re mine,” he pauses, letting me take in his words. His meaning. “You need to be fucked before we can talk. You need to know it. Feel it. It’s the only way you’ll hear me.”

  He traps me with his thighs as he releases my wrists to pull off his T-shirt and undo his belt. His jeans. He doesn’t take himself out yet though. Just sits there like that and I look at him, at all that muscle and power and man.

  And I want him.

  He softens his hold on me, starts to run the tips of his fingers over the insides of my arms, leaving goosebumps in his wake. His touch is so gentle, so light and soft, so opposite who he is and all the while, he watches me and I watch him, and he’s right. Maybe I’m stupid but he’s right. I do want to trust him. And more than that. I want him, too. I want all of him.

  “There’s something wrong with me,” I say.

  “There’s nothing wrong with you. You’ve just been mistreated. But I see you, Gabriela. I see you. And I won’t hurt you.”

  I tug to free myself. This is too much. He’s too much.

  He pulls me down onto his lap, one hand cupping the back of my head and bringing me to him to kiss me.

  I don’t kiss him back, twisting to free myself instead, but he easily keeps hold of me. I’m straddling him, my legs wide. He slides one hand between them, and my body prepares to betray me.

  “I can’t do this.” I have to protect myself. I can’t give myself to him. Hasn’t he proven that?

  He tugs my head backward, his fingers working, his mouth on my throat, on my mouth. It’s like my body goes into auto-pilot when he touches me. Like I have no control over it. Like he owns it.

  Isn’t that what he’s saying though? That he owns me?

  “Stefan.”

  He pulls back, and his eyes are dark when I look at them and I forget what I want to say. What I was trying to say.

  It’s like he knows it and he grins. A moment later we’re on our knees and he’s still holding me, one hand in my hair, the other cupping my sex.

  “Take me out,” he says.

  I lick my lips, my gaze dropping to the bulge in his pants. My hands move without my brain’s permission and I take him out, cupping his cock like it’s the Holy Grail. I feel the smooth length of it, smear pre-cum in my palm as I lick my lips again and return my gaze to his.

  He watches me and a moment later, I feel pressure on the back of my head as he guides me down to him and I take the steel rod of his cock in my mouth and I’m greedy when it comes to this.

  He moans as he moves me along his length and when he pulls me off, there’s a pop when the suction is broken. His eyes are black when he brings my face to his and kisses me before turning me so I’m facing away from him. He pulls me into him, and my back is against his front. One of his hands is between my legs and the other is kneading a nipple while he trails kisses along my neck, my throat.

  He pushes me forward, down on my belly and his hands move to my hips. He lifts them, tilts my hips upward and I look back to look at him look at me as he spreads me open. Eyes on mine, he slides all the way inside me, stretching me, seating himself fully.

  I’m unprepared. I make a sound of protest, his cock too big, my passage too tight. But when I try to move, he holds me down.

  “Are you scared?” he asks, cock still buried inside me.

  I shake my head.

  “Because you trust me not to hurt you.”

  Trust.

  Is it true what he says? Do I trust him? On some level, I do. Or I want to. But do I have any choice?

  What I feel though, the fact that I’m not scared he’ll hurt me, that’s not a choice. It’s what I know.

  But then he draws out slowly and slides his cock up to my other hole.

  “Stefan, no. You’re too big. I can’t—”

  “Shh. Trust me. I told you I won’t hurt you.”

  “I—”

  “You’re going to give me this. And you’re going to know that you’re mine. And I don’t hurt what’s mine.”

  One hand slides around to my clit and as he closes his fingers around it he pushes against the tight ring. I feel him, his big cock lubricated with my juices. It’s slippery and as he plays with my clit, I open to him and even though it hurts, I want this. I want him to have me like this.

  He moves slowly, carefully, all the while playing with me, talking to me and feeling him like this, inside me there. It’s different, intense. Like all the sensations are multiplied by a thousand. There’s pain and pleasure and they take turns, one giving way to the other, again and again and I come more than once before he’s fully inside me and all I can do is feel. Like I become sensation and it’s just him and me and us like this. Close. So close.

  Stefan inside me.

  Stefan closer than ever inside me and maybe it’s that I want to forget. Maybe it’s my escape, however momentary, but I give myself over to it. My body relaxes and I just feel and trust and when he’s fully in me, I hear him, hear his breathing shorten, feel him thicken even more and he’s saying my name too, telling me I’m beautiful. Telling me I’m his.

  And when he begins to fuck me, I lose all conscious thought.

  I am a ball of nerves. Of pleasure. Of us.

  I don’t know where one orgasm ends and the other begins. I don’t know where he ends, and I begin.

  And when he stills inside me and I feel him filling me up, I squeeze around him, and I want more of him. All of him. Every part of him.

  It’s all I can think as I go limp and my vision goes dark. And his name on my lips is all I hear.

  I don’t feel him slide out of me.

  I don’t feel him lift me up and carry me to the bed.

  When I open my eyes, it’s like I’m floating and he’s there and smiling and he cleans me so gently, so tenderly before tucking me into bed.

  And I just lie there, spent.

  When he’s dressed, he sits on the edge of the bed and smiles down at me, brushes hair gently back from my face.

  “Now you’re mine. Every part of you.”

  How does he look the way he does? Didn’t what we just did cost him as much as it did me? He seems the opposite of me. Revitalized.

  He leans down to kiss my mouth.

  “Get dressed when you’re ready. Come downstairs. We’ll have that drink before dinner.”

  I turn my head to watch him walk to the door.

  He stops there, looks back at me and I must be a sight because he just grins and walks out the door.

  29

  Gabriela

  It takes me a little time to get up and I decide to shower again. Cold this time. It does the trick, waking me up. By the time I get downstairs it’s a good half hour later.

  Stefan is sitting outside watching the dark blue water. He turns when he hears me and without a word, I take my place opposite him at the table and when I sit down, I can still feel him inside me, feel what we did.

  He just watches me, drinking his whiskey.

  “Okay?” he asks.

  I nod, a little embarrassed. Something is different with us.

  Without asking if I want it, he pours me a glass of white wine.

  I pick it up, taking the first sip. I savor it, needing it.

  Being with him like we were, it fucks with me. Makes me go all soft.

  I drink another swallow of wine.

  “I like how you look after being fucked.”

  “How do I look?”

  “Soft. Dreamy.”

  “It’s your magical cock, I guess.”

  “Probably,” he winks and his expression is disarming. “But what I like more is how you look at me after.”

  I don’t need to ask what he means. This one I know. I look at him like he’s a god. My god.

  “It’s just sex.”

  “No, it’s not. And you know it.”

  I do.

  But I have to make myself remember. Remember New York
. Remember Gabe. Remember what my father told me.

  That’s the one that does it. That wipes that dreamy expression off my face. And he sees it instantly.

  “You’re ready to talk,” he says. It’s not a question and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he looks a little disappointed.

  “Tell me what happened between the morning we were in New York and that afternoon? Tell me what has you thinking you need to hate me again.”

  “I do hate you, Stefan. I never stopped hating you.”

  “We both know that’s not true.”

  “You want to argue it? Argue how I feel versus how you think I feel?”

  “No, I don’t. I think it’d be a boring conversation. Truce, Gabriela.”

  “Why?”

  “Because whether you want to admit it or not, we have a common enemy and you and I are one another’s only allies.”

  “Enemies and allies. I’ve never heard those words so much before meeting you.”

  “Explain to me again how you got a bump on the back of your head during the car chase.”

  “I bumped it against the window. I told you.”

  “Do you see how that doesn’t make physical sense to me?”

  “It all happened so fast. Maybe I hit it against something else. I don’t know, Stefan.”

  He studies me, eyes narrowing. “You were right,” he says.

  “Right about what?” Is he letting it go?

  “Rafa and Clara. They’re together.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I went to Rafa’s house yesterday. She was there and Rafa confirmed it.”

  “I don’t care. Why do you think I would care?”

  “Just thought I’d share it with you. I’ll share more. Those men Rafa thought were following you the other day, they were my men.”

  “What? Why? I mean, I didn’t even see anyone. I couldn’t figure out who was chasing us.”

  He remains silent while I try to work through this.

  “Why did you have men following us?”

  “I had them following Rafa. Not you. I wanted to be sure you were safe, and I had doubts about Rafa. Doubts that have been confirmed.”

  “What?”

  I feel my forehead crease as I think about Gabe. About where he is. Where Rafa said he put him. When I tried to call Melanie to make sure they were okay, I only got voice mail.

  “The birds were poisoned, Gabriela.”

  “Poisoned? Why? Who would do that? How?”

  He reaches into his pocket and pulls something out. He sets it on the table. It’s a thumb drive.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I went to see the man who made the cage when we were in New York. To be honest, that was the reason I needed to go. But I’m glad I was able to take you to see your brother.”

  I hear the last part but set it aside for now. “It was made in New York?”

  Stefan nods.

  I’m not surprised, am I? My father had it made. Does Stefan know that?

  “I recognized the name of the smith. And the reason I looked into it is there’s no way my uncle could afford to gift something like that. Not on his own.”

  “My father paid for it,” I say.

  He studies me.

  I study him.

  “This was inside it.” He gestures to the drive.

  “Where?”

  “In a secret compartment. There were food pellets in the compartment too. I’d thought they were just buffer and didn’t think twice about what got left on the bird cage floor.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “I had the pellets tested. They were poisoned.”

  “Why? Why would someone poison birds? Why would my father? And why would he, and I assume it was him, why would he hide a thumb drive in our wedding gift?”

  “Kill two birds with one stone. One pellet, I guess.”

  “That’s not funny.”

  “I’m not being funny.”

  “What’s on the drive?”

  “Betrayal. Rafa’s. My uncle’s. He’s the one who had you kidnapped. Rafa’s the one who told him your father was sending men to pick you up.”

  My blood turns to ice and I shudder. “How would he know?”

  “He had spyware on your cellphone. He’s probably heard and read everything.”

  “But why would he do that to me?”

  “I’d bet Catalano is behind Alex’s murder,” Stefan says, not answering my question.

  “But why, Stefan?”

  “To keep us apart? To hurt you? To plant an enemy in my house? What better for him to do that than to have an ally in my own bed.”

  “I want to see what’s on that drive.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll show you.”

  He stands and I do too, and I follow him into his study. He has me sit in his chair as he loads the thumb drive into the computer. He lets me work my way through the files. The photos. The recordings. All of it.

  And I feel sick.

  “Oh God.”

  “It’s all right. I’m taking care of it.”

  I shake my head, look up at him. “You don’t understand.”

  “What don’t I understand?”

  “I made a mistake.”

  His eyebrows furrow together.

  “I saw my father,” I start, my voice unsteady. “Rafa took me there before he took me to see my brother. That’s where we were.”

  Stefan’s face hardens.

  “The bump on my head…when I tried to get out of the car, when I figured out where he was taking me, he knocked me out.”

  “Rafa hit you?” he asks through gritted teeth.

  “It’s not…I think…”

  “He. Hit. You.”

  He turns to the door, hands fisted.

  I stand, grab hold of his arm.

  “No, Stefan. I think he was desperate. Confused even.”

  He spins to face me.

  “He. Hit. You. Why are you making excuses for him?”

  I think about Rafa at my father’s house. I think about what he said, what I saw, that remorse, that sadness.

  But that’s not important right now.

  “My father told me why you did it. Why you wanted custody of Gabe.”

  “Your father is a master manipulator.”

  “He told me he cut me off. That he’d left it all to Gabe. And that’s why you wanted him. That’s why you wouldn’t let me put my name down as guardian.”

  He doesn’t say a word.

  “It’s true, isn’t it?”

  It takes him a moment, but he nods once.

  “I need to call my brother, Stefan.”

  When I try to scoot around him, he grabs hold of me. “He’s fine. Your brother’s fine.”

  I shake my head. “He’s not. He’s…oh God. You don’t understand.”

  “What have you done, Gabriela?”

  I turn my face up to his. “Rafa moved him. Just yesterday. He moved Gabe and Melanie to a secret location. Out of my father’s reach. Out of yours.”

  Stefan’s forehead wrinkles as he tries to make sense of what I’m saying. “You went to him for help.” It’s not a question. And I’m not sure it’s anger I feel from him. Betrayal maybe.

  I betrayed him.

  “I don’t know who to trust, Stefan. I keep making mistakes. And others keep paying for those mistakes. Everywhere I turn, I have enemies.”

  He takes my arms, shakes me violently. “I’m not one of those enemies! When will you see that? When will you believe it?”

  My eyes burn with unshed tears.

  “Tell me. Tell me why you want Gabe. Say it yourself. Then tell me how you’re not my enemy. I mean, I’ve signed the papers. You don’t need me. I’m no use to you now. I have no value anymore. I’m not precious. I never was.” I mutter the last words under my breath and I don’t think he hears but, but when I see his face, I know I’m wrong.

  Because Stefan stops.

  And he just watches me for the longest ti
me and his expression is so strange.

  “You’re wrong. So wrong.” He releases me, steps away and runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck.” He shakes his head. “And you and I may be the last to see it.” He shifts his gaze away momentarily. “I am a fool.”

  “What?”

  “You are the most precious of pawns. Don’t you see?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “And everyone knows it. I’ve underestimated my enemies.”

  “Stefan?”

  He turns to me. “You still don’t see.”

  I’m confused.

  “I care about you, Gabriela. You are precious to me. And they all know it.”

  What?

  He shifts his gaze, exhales like he’s just understood something. He looks at me again. “Hurting you hurts me. Rafa was right. He saw long before anyone else. You’re my weakness. And they’ll keep hurting you to hurt me.”

  I don’t hear his words, though. They’re noise. White noise. I’m still trying to process what he just said.

  Precious.

  I’m precious to him.

  Stefan takes his phone out of his pocket. “Where’s your brother?”

  I look up at him and wonder if he realizes it. If he realizes what he just said. “I have the location on my phone. Rafa texted it to me.”

  “Go get it.”

  I hurry out of the study and up to my bedroom. I grab my phone, run back down to the study to find two soldiers inside with Stefan. He’s giving them orders. I recognize the one. Lucas from the market.

  “Here,” I say, handing my phone to Stefan.

  He takes it, reads the address, sits down behind his desk to type it into his computer.

  “Call him,” he tells me without looking up.

  But I don’t get a chance to because the sound of men’s raised voices coming from the front entrance of the house has us both up. Has Stefan drawing a weapon from a desk drawer as he pushes me behind him.

  “Stay,” he commands, and opens the study door.

  The moment he does, I hear a curse, a grunt, followed by more yelling and footsteps and a moment later, Rafa appears at the open study door where Stefan stands waiting, each man with a weapon in hand. Each looking as murderous as the other.

  30

  Stefan