by K. L. Donn
“Yes.” His bluntness shocks me.
“And Thomas?”
“Yes.”
I struggle with the knowledge that two men are dead because of me. “Both dead?” My words are quiet. I don’t expect an answer.
“They were evil men, Meadow. Never would they have lived much longer. Their actions caused their deaths, not you.” Logically, I know that.
“A shower.” I change the subject. “Can I have a shower?” It’s been too long since I’ve felt clean.
If he’s shocked by my turn around or request, he doesn’t show it. “Do you want help?” He stands from the bed, offering his hand.
My legs wobble as he eases me to my feet. “Maybe. Do you think Lilith would?” I won’t say how much I want it to be him who helps me and takes control right now. I need to go through the motions while feeling safe. I don’t know why, but after being strung about maliciously, I crave the feeling of what being loved is like.
“Lilith,” Carver says almost like he’s tasting her name. “No. I will.” He frowns down at me like I suggested he kill a box of puppies.
“You will?” I smile shyly up at him. “I would like that.”
“Then why didn’t you ask?” How do I explain to him what I don’t fully understand myself? “Tell me, Meadow, what is it you’re trying to keep from me?” His words are soft as he walks behind me, body pressing to mine as his hands slowly glide up my sides.
We enter the bathroom in his room, and the image in the mirror that greets us brings sorrow to my soul. Bruises and marks of all kinds litter my body in a display of all my agony. Tears silently roll down my cheeks, and Carver doesn’t miss them. No, he never misses a single thing when it comes to me. He slowly touches each mark, lending them a gentleness they weren’t afforded previously.
He touches me in a way that ignites me on fire. I close my eyes and lean back into his chest as he explores my body. Light touches and soft kisses kindle a sense of arousal in me that I wasn’t sure I’d experience again.
“It’s you, Carver,” I whisper as his hands cup my breasts, massaging the globes in his palms. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to me. I want so much with you, most of which I don’t understand myself.”
“Tell me everything,” he murmurs into my ear, biting the lobe and sucking. “Tell me what you want, what you’re afraid. All of it.”
He scoops me into his arms and steps into the large glass-enclosed shower. Sitting me on the small bench, he runs the warm water without removing his pants and lets the water spray him until it warms.
Biting my lip, I think of the best way to explain to him without confusing myself in the process. “I want your control.”
His gaze slowly rises to mine as he lowers himself to kneel at my feet. “Control.” Heat enters his stare, a deep-seated need I hadn’t seen before. Could this be something he wants, too?
“Your control,” I murmur, raising my hands to his shoulders.
“Mine.” His voice is vicious as he growls the word. He changes right before my eyes. A volatile intensity takes over his form, and I know that even with how cruel he can be, how cruel and sadistic others would see him as right now, I know with me, he won’t be. He’ll show me the intensity that lives within him, but only through the love he has for me, as the one who wants what’s best for me.
“Always yours.” I lean forward, placing my lips to his. A sigh brushes his mouth when I feel one hand go to my hair with an iron grip, and the other holds my thigh steady as he pushes them open.
With the height of the bench, my toes barely touch the ground, making it the perfect angle for his hardness to press against my core. The pulsing of his cock makes me moan into the steamy room. Even through his jeans, I can feel the heat of his need for me.
“This craving I have for you, it’s powerful, Meadow. I don’t think I can control myself if you accept me.” His voice is hoarse with restraint.
Hiking my thighs up to sit on his hips, I pull Carver closer, the warmth of the water heating our bodies further. The ripples of muscle as my breasts push into him sends a shiver down my spine.
“What I want, what I’ve been hiding, is my own hunger for your dominance, Carver.” I breathe the words into his ear, making sure he hears the passion in my voice. “That maniac posed me around, chose what to do with me without my consent. That was different than this craving I’ve had my whole life, and I need for you to wipe the bad memories away. Give me new ones. Real ones. Filled with tenderness and love.”
His hold in my hair tightens and tugs my neck backwards. I feel his lips and tongue graze my neck down to my collarbone and across my shoulder before he pulls back to meet my gaze.
His lids are hooded and show a dark yearning. “Never again will you mention him. Not a single fucking word. Right here, and now, we’re going to wash him down the fucking drain like the piece of shit he is. He’s done. Gone, Meadow.” I nod, I want that so badly.
Taking a deep breath, I know it’s time to tell him that even though I have these fantasies, I also have no experience. “I’ve never…that is…I’m a virgin, Carver,” I stammer out.
In a sudden move, his mouth crashes over mine, pushing my body back until I hit the wall. His kiss is fierce, full of so much desire it steals my breath. My heart rate picks up speed, and I ache to fulfill every desire we both have.
Carver
A virgin.
I knew, of course. Or suspected, anyway. She has this aura about her that led me to believe so. Her confirming it burst the damn inside me, and I can no longer protect her from all my depraved necessities. I can’t keep her safe from my darkest desires. I long to be buried so deep inside her tight pussy that she cries from the pleasure. To feel her nails clawing into my skin, drawing little drops of blood because she feels and craves so much is an itch I need to scratch.
“I have to confess, Meadow.” I pull back from her sweet lips.
“What?” Her voice is breathless.
“You’ll be my first, too.” I lean forward to kiss her again, and she pulls back, a look of shock clearing the lust from her features.
“Never?” Her fingers roam my biceps, and it’s then she sees it. Notices what I’d done only weeks after we met. “Is that…my name?” She traces the dandelion at the end of her name along my collarbone. The only soft spot on my body, and it’s all for her.
“Yes.”
“So, never? Not once?”
“I never had the desire to.”
“Why me?” Her question is full of awe.
“You awoke emotions within me with the initial tear that dropped from your eye. At first, I wanted to dominate you. I wanted to cause you more pain so I could have more tears.” Her expression doesn’t change. “It slowly morphed into a twisted obsession to claim your innocence.”
“And now?”
“I still want that. But I want more. I want you to hunger for these things with me. I want you to beg me to punish you. I want you to beg me for every fucking thing I bestow on you.”
“What else?” Her words barely register.
“I’m a twisted man, Meadow, I won’t be easy or nice. I’m going to be rough, and for Christ sake, I hope to fuck you can handle that because I don’t know how to be anything else.” With my hands on her thighs, my fingers flex as I wait for her response. If she says no and wants sweet and gentle, I can sure as fuck try, but there’s no guarantee I’ll be able to achieve what either of us desires.
Her hand comes up to hold my cheek as she props forward, her peaked nipples brushing against my bare skin. “Carver.” She whispers my name like a fucking prayer. “I want everything you have to give me because even though you have this darkness within you, I suspect you possess the capability of softness for me.”
No more words are spoken as I capture her mouth in a searing blaze, setting my veins on fire for us to become one. Meadow’s light whimpers drive my need for her higher with every breathy sound. A vicious growl works through my chest when she rubs her cunt a
gainst my jeans, and I fight to claw my way out of them.
Water and denim don’t fucking mix for shit.
Her hands push the fabric down my hips with clumsy movements, and by the time I’m free, I’m more than ready to slam into her.
“Carver.” She sighs when I squeeze her thighs tightly. Standing, I can see the red marks from my fingers and push the worry of being too rough with her aside because she lifts her hands up to reach for me.
Pulling her to her feet, I lift her in my arms after shutting the water off. Stepping onto the chilly tile of the bathroom floor, I hold her tighter to me. Meadow’s legs are wrapped around my hips, and her arms encircle my neck as we walk to the bedroom. Her lips lay feather-soft kisses along my skin and across my shoulders. Each touch subtle but full of intent.
Kneeling on the edge of the bed, I take her down to the mattress. My massive body covers her small frame in a show of protectiveness I know she loves.
Sitting back on my heels, I push her legs forward, running my hands down the back of her thighs. She’s exposed to me. Every small nook and crevice is there for me to see. “Hold on to the frame,” I tell her, not taking my eyes off her weeping cunt. Her lips are spread open wide showing me the treasure within, just waiting for me to claim her.
Fascinated with the way she watches me, and how her breathing picks up or stutters every time my thumbs brush against the outside of her pussy, I tilt forward to kiss her gently just above her throbbing clit.
“That’s it,” I groan when I catch her succulent scent. “That’s all the gentle I can give you.” I rub my face across her, from one side to the other, making sure I’ve got her juices on my gruff beard. The fine hairs cause her to cry out even when she tries not to.
“Please,” she begs, and I can hear the way her fists tighten on the metal frame.
“Please what, Meadow?” I grin when she lifts her hips closer to my face.
“Touch me.” She breaths on a sigh.
Without warning, I lick her from bottom to top, devouring every drop of her I can. When my tongue touches her nub, I lay it flat and apply pressure. Ensuring she feels pleasure while intending to cause a deeper ache.
Straightening up, I bring my knees to sit on either side of her hips, resting her ass on my thighs. Lining my leaking cock up to her tight pussy, I rub the head around her swollen lips a few times to get her ready. Considering how small she is and seeing her side-by-side to my dick, I know it’s going to hurt. She’s going to cry, and push back, and fight me on this.
I’m going to love every fucking second.
Placing my cock at her entrance, I push gently so just the head is entering her tightness. She sucks me in like a fucking lollipop and her back arches.
“Oh, Carver.” Her voice is pained as I feed her inch by inch until I reach her barrier. I push against it slightly, and her body tenses up, locking my cock in place with her inner muscles.
“Relax, Meadow,” I hiss between clenched teeth as I try to calm her, rubbing a hand up her chest and massaging her tits one at a time.
“I can’t. The pressure.” She pauses. “It’s too much.”
“It’s not.”
Gripping my dick, I pump the few inches that aren’t inside of her yet with a rough fist until my spine tingles, and I know I’m about to come. She’s going to get everything before I’ve explored her thoroughly.
“Fuck,” I groan as I feel myself explode in her warmth. Without thought, my hips buck and fully embed me inside of her, breaking her virginity and causing her to scream.
The intensity rushing through me rings my ears, and I drop down onto her body. Not spent, but invigorated. I want more. So much fucking more, and I’m going to fucking take it.
“Cry for me, Meadow,” I mutter in her ear as I pump my hips back and forth. I know I’m causing her pain, not giving her time to adjust, but her nails in my back are fuel to my already burning libido.
Her breathing is labored as my pumping becomes wild, pushing her up the bed, banging the frame against the wall. Her legs lock around my waist, and I’ve finally got her on board with me.
She feels it.
The pleasure.
The completion.
This overwhelming fucking need to claim every inch of her fucking soul.
With the feel of her walls convulsing around me, her heart beating in sync with mine, and her nails on my back, I’m ready to detonate inside of her again. I’m ready to fuck my cum so deep inside of her, she feels it in her womb.
“Carver!” she cries as her walls contract and hold firm. Her body locks up tight again, and her nails scrape across my back, opening the skin. I can feel trails of blood breaking free, and I’m gone.
Gone for her.
Meadow-mine.
She’s fucking mine.
9
Meadow
“Take it, just like that,” Carver murmurs in my ear from behind. After twenty-four hours of nothing but sex, I’m worn out, exhausted, and likely pregnant. But he can’t seem to stop.
Neither can I if I’m honest.
Being woken up again with his hardness entering my sore but greedy pussy is heaven on earth.
“Carver,” I sigh for what feels like the hundredth time. The man is insatiable. “Yessssss.”
“Fucking hot as hell the way your little cunt eats me up, Meadow,” he moans against my neck as his hips pump in vigorously.
He wants to be rough with me. He craves it. But once he starts and his body takes over, he is the one giving me what I need instead.
I’m waiting for him to break free. To know and believe that I want his darkness.
Pushing my ass back into him, I reach around and grip his hip, trying to pull him closer. I need him closer. As the pleasure rolls through me, I recognize the signs of my impending orgasm, and I want him to go over the edge with me.
“Come with me, Carver, please.” My words are whispered, barely discernable.
His teeth sink into my neck just as I take off, feeling him flying with me. Our breaths are harsh and choppy as our bodies spasm, and pleasure takes me away to a place I can’t explain.
I float as I watch our sweaty bodies relax into each other, and I can’t wait to go again. For him to preserve me in this blissful state. Nothing else matters when Carver takes control of my body.
“Tell me about your childhood, Carver.” It may not be the right time, and it might be a turn-off, but this man, this gentle, mysterious man, he’s quickly becoming my everything, and I want to know more about him. What makes him tick and how he came to be the way that he is.
I feel his harsh breath as he exhales into my neck, hands roaming my body as he gathers himself. “I didn’t have a mother. Not that I ever remember, anyway.” I close my eyes and listen to his raspy voice as he tells a tale that breaks my heart into tiny little fragments. “My father was never a respectable man. He drank. He gambled. Drugs were always present. Men would walk in and out of my life like a revolving door until Sid.”
I squeeze his hand in the hopes he’ll continue. “Sid was always nice, and for a while, I thought he’d help my dad turn his life around.” His mirthful laugh is cold. “It turned out just the opposite. Dad turned Sid into the same type of scum he was.” Carver rolls away from me, and I immediately miss his heat at my back.
“The beatings came daily. I was starved, left alone. Locked up. You fucking name it.” I don’t move from my position, afraid he’ll stop if I do. “When I was fifteen, I’d had enough. I left. I was already…damaged. Fighting was an everyday occurrence, and with every broken bone, every gush of blood, I became thirstier for more. I craved causing more damage with each battle. The first time I picked up a blade, I was seventeen. I didn’t really join a gang, not in the sense that most think, but there was one group of people I ran with to make money, and their enemies tried to push me around.” I feel him pick up a strand of my hair while he tells his tale. “I was scrawny back then, didn’t give off the threatening vibes I do now. They hadn�
�t liked that I didn’t back down when they tried to hustle me. So, one night, I fought my way through them just by the skin of my fucking neck.”
“What happened?” He doesn’t sound angry by the memory. In fact, he seems almost aroused, so I turn to look at him.
On his chest lays the blade he fondly calls Mercy—the one that half a country is terrified of. “I was almost down for the count. Beat to shit, I scurried away to a nearby dumpster and was reaching for something, anything, for a weapon, and I came across an old knife. It really shouldn’t have done as much damage as it had, but luck was on my side. I swung out with the dull blade and slashed across one guy’s gut, cutting so deeply that he dropped and bled to death in minutes.”
Carver’s eyes close, his fist tightens around the handle of his knife, and I can see his erection growing. He truly gets off on the savagery of the act. Covering his hand with my own, I place it gently, offering what I hope is acceptance and support. My gaze remains on his growing erection, my own arousal enhancing as he tells me more of that day. “The feeling of his blood arcing across my chest, the sound of his pained breaths, it awoke something in me. Evoked a darkness I had no idea existed in my own form.” Shifting his body towards me again, I place my leg across his hip, aligning our bodies.
“I quickly became consumed with this need to draw blood. To cause pain with every slice.” I feel the cold steel of Mercy as he places it on my naked thigh. Shivering, I barely breathe as he continues. “I never could mask it or control the urges I felt. By the time King and Luther had found me, I held the fear of every gang in the city. I was fluid in my movements and knew anatomy better than any language.”
Stuttering out a long breath, I hesitate to ask. “The people…were they all bad? Or just random?” Shock erupts through me when I feel his hand dragging the blade down my thigh. My eyes dart open to see a red mark in its place but no open flesh.
A tiny thrill races through my blood at the thought of him marking me with her. Showing me the love he feels for Mercy.