Surrender

by D H Sidebottom

  I’d never taken so many risks. I was known for needing a complete guarantee that things wouldn’t endanger my friends, or my men and anyone in my circle. But with Isla, I was finding out that there was a different person inside me, a man who needed to take risks, wanted to take risks to gain collateral.

  “Do you want me to kill him, Isla? Does it make you hot, knowing that you can make me give you that? That you can control the urge in me to massacre someone just because of who you are?”

  A dark smile curved her lips into a delicious decadent grin. Her eyes remained on mine. I watched as her tongue slowly swiped her lips, moistening them and making me picture my cock buried deep between them again.

  “I told you,” she whispered. “You don’t need to kill him, Jake.”

  “But what if I want to, for you, just for you, Isla?”

  I was angry at the way she pulled this need out of me, but the way she smiled told me it was worth it. She looked at me almost awestruck, her appreciation that I would kill and maim for her a definite surprise. A hopeful surprise.

  She blinked up at me. “It makes me hot that you would kill for me.”

  My eyes widened. I wasn’t sure where this side of her had come from but I didn’t want it to vanish. I wanted to push her to see how far I could go, how much my life would impact hers. But she beat me to it.

  “I killed him,” she whispered, her voice now a ghostly echo.

  I stilled, unsure whether I had heard her properly. Sensing my confusion she swallowed. “I hit him, over and over and over. I crushed his skull with a large iron statue that sat on my parents’ hearth. A horse that my grandparents had bought them for their first wedding anniversary.” Her voice was cold, eerie, as though she wasn’t in the room with me. “His face when I hit him. I’ll never lose that image, Jake.” She laughed loudly. “The bastard never thought I had it in me. His brain splattered my mother’s face, bits of his skull stuck in her hair. One of his teeth bounced off the coffee table and landed beside Leah’s foot.” Her eyes were vacant now, her mind back to that night. She shivered. “I remember my mother’s screaming stopping abruptly. She’d passed out. My Dad had to take hold of me. He was the only one that could stop me obliterating the man that took everything from me.”

  She blinked slowly when she sensed my heart rate peak and my knees wobble slightly. “And you know what,” she breathed. “I want to do it again. I want to take his life and hurt him. I want to make him pay, over and over for what he did. He took my virginity. He took my mother from me. He took my brother from me. I forever see the way my Dad looks at me. Disgust and love battling away inside him. I want him to pay for eternity, Jake.”

  I COULDN’T WORK OUT what he was thinking as he looked down at me. It wasn’t disgust or repulsion. Shock maybe. They all thought I was this little mouse, hiding in the hole until all the problems of the room had been sorted by the rats in the building. But I wasn’t that person. I was . . . I didn’t know what I was, but I wasn’t a coward.

  He crouched down slowly, his face in line with mine. I knew he used his looks for his personal gain, but I saw something deep in his eyes. His soul. And it wasn’t monstrous, far from it.

  “What happened after?” His tone was soft and gentle, coaxing.

  I squeezed my eyes shut at the part of the story that caused Seb and me many nightmares. “My dad and Seb . . . took him.”

  I felt his body freeze. “Where?”

  I shook my head and opened my eyes. His expression was soft but there was a glint of something cold in his eyes. “I don’t know. I never knew. I . . . I shut down afterwards.”

  He blinked and tilted his head. “Do you have nightmares, Isla?”

  I scoffed, amused at his compassion. “Don’t pity me, Jake. I don’t deserve pity. What I did that night cost the lives of so many. My mother has to retreat into the corner of her mind just to stop the replay of her daughter losing her shit and slaughtering a man who . . .”

  “Who was a sick and twisted bastard,” Jake cut in. His hands gripped my face, making me look at him. The darkness in his eyes made me gasp. “People of this world, Isla, they’re either good or bad, there’s no in between, no imaginary line that they like to call ‘circumstance.’ Evil and good, that’s it. The evil belong in hell, there’s no justification, no reason. It’s just how it is. You look back and think you ruined lives, Isla. But what if . . . what if Dwaine had raped Seb, then Leah, then your mother? Do you think they would have coped as well as you have?” He leaned forward and kissed the stray tear that ran down my cheek, the drop glistening on his lips when he pulled away. “You need to accept that what you did was the right thing, that there was nothing else you could have done. Dwaine didn’t deserve to live. And believe me, I’m almost angry that you did my job for me. I want to watch the blood drain from him. I want to witness him die under my hand. You have no idea how proud I am that you . . . that you found that part inside you that was given naturally, to fight, to fight for family, for life, Isla. No one else is going to grant it to you. You have to take what you can in this life. Fuck, if anyone should know that, it’s you and me.”

  I swallowed, hating my next question but needing to know anyway. “And you, Jake? Where do you belong on that line?”

  He hesitated, his eyes reading me for what he thought I needed to hear.

  “The truth, Jake. Where do you belong? In hell or in heaven?”

  He pursed his lips and took a deep breath. “I will be the one queuing at the sign that says, ‘Marshmallow toasting this way.’”

  I couldn’t help it, I chuckled, picturing him stood at the gates of hell with a little prong and a pink marshmallow sat on the end. He grinned at me, his deep green eyes twinkling mischievously. “I’m afraid our relationship ends when I die, Isla. I won’t be meeting you at the shiny gates, nor will I be sat on a cloud warming it for you.” He shrugged. “But that’s due to my choices, not anything I was forced to do, not like you. I take people’s lives in my hands and I choose whether to allow their lungs to keep functioning or not.”

  I winced, my heart clashing with what my head was telling me. Good or bad. He was right, there was no in between, it was how it was.

  “I’m sorry, Isla. I won’t lie to you. I see how you want me, but to want me with your soul then you need to see mine.”

  “I . . .”

  He shook his head and placed his finger gently to my lips. “Don’t deny it, Isla. Time is too short to deny what we want. I want you. Simple. It’s so easy to say. I—want—you. I want to give you so much pain that all you feel is pleasure. I want to taste every inch of your body, how your arousal, sweat and blood taste on my tongue. I want your skin touching mine. I want your mind linked with mine. I want your heart to beat alongside my own.” He shrugged again as though he was just reeling off his shopping list. “But I need to be honest. I’m dangerous. Very dangerous. My life consists of nothing you’ve ever known before, and although I swear to you that I will shield you from as much of it as I can, you need to know that being with me will bring more bloodshed and destruction than even you have witnessed.”

  My heart was galloping, the crazy beat making me dizzy. “I . . .” I couldn’t face the clash between my heart and my head, it was too painful. But most of all I couldn’t accept what his declaration had stirred inside me. I’d always known there was something wrong with me, something about the dark side that appealed to me. Death and violence almost like an aphrodisiac, a food that fed my blood.

  “Don’t deny me, Isla,” he repeated quietly. “Tell me.”

  I swallowed then lifted my thumb and stroked it across his lips, needing to touch him, the softness of his skin mesmerising. “I want you,” I whispered back.

  Without saying another word, he leaned in and scooped me up, pulling me against his chest as he walked out of the room and took the stairs, his eyes fixed on mine as we silently watched each other.

  Knowing what was about to happen I couldn’t help but shiver at the thoughts ra
cing through me. I’d never had a man this way. I wanted to make love to Jake but all I could associate with was past experience; the grunts of Dwaine, the sickly feel of his body on mine, the repulsive words he had used that made my stomach twist.

  “Don’t think,” Jake breathed when he sensed my nerves. “I’m going to show you how sex should be, Isla. Shut off your mind and concentrate on the pleasure I’m going to consume you with. Just feel my touch, hear my voice and see the need in me.”

  He dropped me gently to my feet. We were in a large bedroom, a bed situated in the middle on a raised platform and the furniture sleek black glass that seemed to mirror every angle of the room. My eyes popped wide when Jake said, “Lights, sensual,” and the lights dimmed leaving a soft glow in the room.

  I giggled like a bloody teenager. “That’s cool.”

  He smiled, stroking his finger along my chin and making my body hum. “It gets better,” he whispered. “Fire, low heat.”

  A huge whoosh sounded around me and my eyes snapped to a huge fireplace set into a dividing wall in the room. The fire sat open to both sides, huge flames roaring high and lighting more of the room.

  “Music, sensual.”

  Soft tunes flooded the room. I chuckled and raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you showing off?”

  The smirk that curved his lips made my stomach clench. “Sweetheart, I don’t need gimmicks to impress you. I can do that with sex.”

  My mouth dried when his fingers slid from my face and down the centre of my chest, my nipples peaking and pushing through the thin cotton of my shirt. He popped a button on his descent, slowly pushing my shirt aside to reveal my breasts for his view. I could hardly breathe when he slowly pushed the material off my shoulders. He licked his lips, his eyes on my simple white bra. I wished then that I had a more adventurous side, wanting to please his eye with silk and lace in dark sultry colours.

  He didn’t stop; he snapped the button on my jeans then pushed them down my legs, his body bending until he helped my feet through each leg.

  Then he stood back up and raked my body with his eyes. “You are so damn perfect,” he whispered. I shuddered when he circled my erect nipple with his finger. “I like this.”

  “What?”

  “This bra. It’s so much sexier than black and red, so much more sensual than slutty lace.”

  I nodded, deleting my last thoughts from my head and mentally praising myself for my choice of plain white cotton.

  I groaned rather embarrassingly when he leaned forward and sank his mouth over my nipple. His teeth closed slightly and encased my flesh, sending a jolt from my breast straight down between my legs, a dull throb heating my tummy.

  “Don’t you dare hide those sweet little moans from me,” he growled when he felt me clench with shame at the sound of my lust.

  “Sorry,” I whispered.

  He smiled up at me then moved across to my other breast, repeating his wet caress and dampening the fabric until the darkness of my areola peeked through. He slid his hands around the back of me then unclasped my bra. Pulling back he looked at me. “Take it off.”

  I watched his face when I boldly slid it off my body. His teeth gnawed at his lip as he gazed at my chest, my nipples proud and firm as his look made my need heighten almost painfully.

  “Touch yourself, Isla.”

  “What?”

  Taking my hands in his own, he lifted them to my breasts, making me cup myself. “Touch yourself,” he repeated. Lowering his hands from mine, I stood before him in just my knickers, my hands on my body. I was slightly disappointed that he wasn’t touching me. I needed his hands on me more than I needed to breathe.

  “Stroke your plump, pink nipples, sweetheart. Make them hard and in need of my mouth.”

  “They are. They already are.”

  He smiled but lowered his eyes pointedly to my hands. I swallowed my nerves and closed my eyes, my cheeks heating as I started to roll my nipples in my fingers, the feel of it making my arousal start to slide down my thighs. Whenever I masturbated I never once felt this . . . this sensual, this turned on. I was doing exactly the same thing as I always did but having Jake watching me was surprisingly hot.

  I jolted when he spoke, the gritty tone in his voice spiking my need higher. “Slide your hand into your knickers.”

  “Jake . . .”

  “Do it, Isla.” Oh God, I wasn’t sure if I was mortified or going to come. “I want you to slide a finger inside yourself then show it to me.”

  “What?” My eyes snapped to his but he stood cool and calm.

  “Do it,” he whispered in a tone that made me feel like a slave to him, the demand firm but erotic. My anger mixed with my arousal but I went with it. I needed him to sate this damn want that was overpowering me. Deep down I knew it was only him who could give me what I needed, so I secured his gaze and slid my hand down across my stomach until my fingers touched the hem of my knickers. Pushing them under the material I gasped when I felt how wet I was. It didn’t seem possible. Venturing on, I slipped my middle finger inside myself, concentrating on the blaze in Jake’s eyes as he kept his gaze firmly on my face.

  I coughed slightly and lifted my hand. His eyes lowered to my offering before he stepped forward, took hold of my wrist and lifted my hand to his mouth, his lips encasing my finger as his tongue swept around it. He groaned, a small shiver racing through him and his eyes closed. “You taste better than I thought, which is damn near impossible. Soon I’m going to spend hours devouring you, making you come over and over on my mouth until you can’t take anymore.”

  Stupidly, I just nodded, my throat closing in as my body became excited at the thought of him doing exactly that.

  His mouth journeyed up my arm, his lips idolising every inch of my skin until he moved across my collarbone then down to my breasts, giving them the attention they needed as my body cried out in need. The feeling was overwhelming, my skin too sensitive to his soft touch as a sheen of perspiration clothed my nakedness.

  Lower and lower he ventured until he was kissing a path across my stomach and inhaling deeply when he reached my mound, a soft sigh echoing from him as he nuzzled deeper. His fingers twisted into the edge of my knickers and slowly he slid them down my legs.

  “So pretty.” I blinked, unsure whether I’d heard him correctly and wondering how a pussy could actually be pretty. “You have no idea how many times this little tuft . . .” I gasped when he tugged on my pubic hair gently. “ . . . has been the subject of my dreams. My fingers sliding through it, my tongue lapping your cum from it or it tickling the head of my cock.”

  His eyes lifted to mine and I stared at the mass of greenness gazing back at me. It was almost as if he was in awe, the need and choking emotion behind them almost unbearable to look at.

  “For years,” he continued, “I’ve wanted to idolise your body, Isla. I’ve wanted to make you weep in pleasure. How much I’ve wanted to look into your eyes and see your need and pleasure staring back at me, just me. To see how much you need me in those stunning hazel eyes.”

  He fixed his eyes on me, blinking slowly as he gazed up at me. “Tell me you need me, Isla. Tell me.”

  His words, although quiet and soft, were far from unfeeling, the gravity of his sincerity stunning me. Thinking I didn’t reciprocate his affection because I couldn’t speak, he winced and dropped his eyes. I cupped his cheek and lifted his face to mine and he tilted his head slightly when a lone tear drifted down my face and dropped off my chin. “I do need you. I think I’ve always needed you, Jake. Always. It’s funny but when Dwaine . . . raped me, all I could think about was you.”

  His eyes widened at my declaration. “What?”

  Shrugging, my cheeks heated with my little revelation. “I . . . I just . . . I dunno. I needed you.” I couldn’t help my eyes filling with tears, as much as I tried to stop them. “Somehow I knew deep down that what you had done to Dwaine had been well deserved. I knew you’d hurt him and I wanted . . . I wanted you to hurt him again, t
o stop him.”

  Jake stood quickly when a sob tore through me. His arms wrapped around me and he pulled me tight into his body. “I tried, Isla. Fuck, I tried to stop him.”

  I pulled back and looked up at him. “You knew what he was going to do?”

  He nodded slowly and sighed. “I’d overheard him talking to his mates, saying he was going to have you, whether you agreed with it or not.”

  “You mean . . . he planned it?”

  Shrugging, he lifted me, prompting me to wrap my legs around his waist and carried us to the bed, where he sat and held me across his lap.

  “I warned him, Isla, I warned him not to go near you. Then one day I saw him push you into the toilets. He never listened, so . . .”

  I nodded, understanding what he was saying but he shook his head angrily. “Obviously, I was the stupid one. I should have finished him then. I should have gutted the fucker and watched him die.”

  “Hey,” I scolded, framing his face with my hands. “Don’t you dare take the guilt for what he did. No one has ever stuck up for me like you did. You have no idea how much that means.”

  “But it wasn’t enough!”

  “It was more than enough. MORE!”

  His face tightened so I did the only thing I could think of, I kissed him, hard and deep. He moaned when I slid my tongue into his mouth and found his, giving it a teasing flick with my own. His hands found my hair, his fingers twisting deep into the roots with the passion that ran though him. His cock was hard under me, pressing against my flesh and stimulating me in readiness.

  “Please,” I whispered against his mouth. “Show me how to love.”

  His mouth fell from mine and he gave a soft groan as he buried his face into my neck. “You show me how to love every time I look at you, Isla.” Before I could question what he meant, he turned us and laid me down, my back sinking into the soft depths of the mattress as his hands and mouth started to tease and arouse.

  He worshipped me, idolised my hot skin and adored the scars that bore the weight of my fight with life. I struggled to breathe when he drew a finger along my groove, the pad of his thumb fuelling my arousal as he gently stroked my clit.