Does it? I know it does. I don’t know why, but it’s as if Christian’s brutal soul was made to match my softness, as if his rough edges find a fit in the crevices of what makes up Kerry. It’s as if together we’re whole.
“A little,” I whisper, too ashamed to say it out loud.
I yelp as he bites down on an ass cheek and then grabs my panties, tearing them, ripping them off me.
“I thought that was just something they do in the movies,” I gasp.
Christian scoffs. “I don’t like obstacles.” He buries his face between my legs again, his tongue circling my clit, hard, flicking it, sucking on it as he pushes his fingers inside me again, thrusting, slow at first, and then harder, faster.
I clutch the sheets and whimper, rocking back, meeting his eager touch that brings me closer and closer to the edge. My head spins as my whole focus turns to one single point. His skin on mine, his tongue and fingers making me moan louder and louder as I begin to shake, teetering on the verge of losing my mind, forgetting who I am and who I am with.
I cry when he stops and pulls back.
“No!”
“Want me now, do you?”
I groan into the mattress.
“Tell me!” He slaps me hard, too hard, and all air rushes out of my lungs. The next slap is even harder, and I scream.
“Christian, no, please!”
He leans in, grabbing my chin, his eyes meeting mine, darting to the tears on my cheeks, and then back up to meet my gaze.
“Tell me you’re mine.”
“Give me a word,” I hiss.
“Not until you tell me you’ll submit to me and stop fucking fighting me.”
I clench my lips together and stare defiantly at him. Fuck him!
“Kerry,” he growls.
“You can’t just come and take, and take, and take. You fucking ass!”
Christian laughs, and as his features lighten, my heart jumps at how beautiful he is.
“I can. And I will.”
He backs up and pushes me down onto the mattress, hard, his palm heavy on my lower back. I kick out, trying to get leverage, trying to get away, but he sits down on my thighs.
“Do you remember that first night?”
I’m still struggling, but go still as he speaks. “What?”
“When I pushed you up against the kitchen counter?”
Do I remember? What a joke. Every second with him is etched into my memory, burnt into my soul.
“Yes.”
“I almost took you there and then. With or without your consent. Do you know what made me stop?”
I exhale with a shudder and shake my head.
“Me neither. Do you think anything will make me stop tonight?”
I gasp, fighting to take my next breath as primal need starts a renewed furnace between my legs. Then I shake my head again. No, I don’t think anything will make him stop tonight. I can only pray there’s some little decency in him. He has said he won’t hurt me. He’s always said he won’t hurt me, except that one time when he really was out to hurt me.
“Good girl.” His voice is hoarse, aroused, and that alone makes me squirm again. I want him, and I want to run.
“Please.”
A hand lands on my butt with a loud smack, and a second time, a third. Again. And again. I lose count. When he stops, I don’t know if I’ve screamed, but my throat is raw. He caresses me, dips in between my legs, finds my desperate flesh.
“Say you’re mine.” He keeps caressing, building pressure. When I don’t speak, he stops. “Tell me.” Short, short circles around my clit, a barely there finger in my tight channel, unsatisfying, teasing, a promise of fulfillment.
“You’re evil!” I bury my face in the comforter that I’ve bunched up in my arms, clutching it for dear life.
“Yeah?”
He stops again. I ache. I’m so close. So, so close.
“I’m yours! Fuck you! Fuck me!”
His deep, dark laugh rumbles through his chest as he spears me on his fingers, thrusting, adding his thumb pushing at my tight rear hole, pushing, gaining entrance.
“Oh God,” I cry.
“Touch yourself, Kerry. Come for me.”
I swallow hard and push my hand between my legs, my pussy is raw, tender, tingling. My swollen clit only needs one last caress before I lose it, coming completely undone in his hands.
Christian
Kerry convulses on my thrusting fingers, her back covered in a thin sheen of sweat, her heart shaped little ass pushing back, inviting, beautifully reddened, her skin mottled from my brutal palm. I haven’t even gotten her out of her bra yet. I haven’t even gotten my aching cock out of my pants yet, but I enjoyed it too much, seeing her pain, and her pleasure, seeing her so unsure, and still so wild for me.
With a last shudder she goes absolutely still, only her chest heaves. My fingers are still in her warm, tight pussy and my cock screams at me to get the fuck in there, into her tightness, into that wet heat.
“Don’t move.” I stand and undo my pants, kicking them off me.
“I can’t,” she moans.
I laugh. Well, good.
“Safeword,” she whispers. She looks absolutely beaten, almost on the verge of broken. But I know she isn’t. I know she’ll fight me if she thinks it’s needed. And she might feel that way.
“What do you want, then?”
I may be brutal, like it rough, but I have no intention of assaulting her.
“Canada.”
I slap her ass, making her jump. “Fuck no. Something else.” I pull off my shirt and my briefs, taking my rock-hard cock in my hand, stroking it, almost trembling. Kneeling on the bed, I nudge her thighs apart. “Come up with something quick, Kerry, or you’ll have none.”
“Red,” she gasps. “Red!”
I put a hand on her butt, and she twitches, making me grin. I don’t want Kerry to be afraid of me. Out of bed. In bed, though, I want her hot, weeping, terrified and in rapture. My fingers find her wet, slick core. She squirms as I caress her, fill her, pushing, preparing her.
“Very well.” I line up my cock, my head to her entrance, teasing up and down, finding the right spot, making her arch up her butt to meet me. “Don’t abuse it.” I push inside in one hard thrust. Kerry squeals. Her knuckles whiten as she grips the sheet.
It’s pure fucking heaven. Nothing has ever felt this good. She’s tight, wrapping my cock in her soft, silky channel.
“Don’t resist me,” I whisper as I begin moving in her. I lean forward and grab her wrists, pushing them hard to the mattress. “Don’t ever resist me again. I want you; I know you want me. No more games.”
Thrusting hard, knocking the wind out of her, I flip her over onto her side. I hug her thigh to my chest as I thumb her clit with my other hand. Kerry’s wide eyes are dark, a deep hazel-green, framed by natural thick dark eyelashes. She stares at me in wonder, her eyes hooded with lust.
“I,” she pants, “haven’t, oh God—” The muscles in her neck tense as her whole body arches back. I intensify my thrusts as I keep massaging her clit. An intense flush has crept up on her cheeks. Redheads. They bruise and flush so easily. “—haven’t played,” she finally grits out. “I’m gonna come again!”
She rocks her hips, meeting my thrusts, screaming as the walls of her pussy convulse, squeezing me hard. I intensify my pounding, absolutely loving the sight of the thrashing woman on the bed before me. Every nerve in me focuses with a razor blade’s sharpness into one single point.
“Fuck, Kerry,” I groan. “Are you protected?”
“No!” she cries, and her eyes fly open. “Don’t come in me.”
For a moment my mind spins. Why not?
I pull out. So fucking close. I may be a monster, but I’m not forcing a child on her.
Again.
Even though it turned out amazing the first time.
I grab her arms and spin her around, leaving her lying on her back with her head resting on the edge of the bed, r
ight in front of my cock.
“Don’t move. And don’t fucking safeword anything.”
“That’s not how it works,” she gasps.
“Shut up and open your mouth.”
A shudder runs through me as I push inside. I let her taste me and my cock twitches in anticipation. Then I push deeper, and deeper, and begin to thrust, and oh my fucking God. It’s incredible.
Kerry gags and pushes at my thighs as tears drip along her cheeks. I let her draw a breath, and as I thrust in her throat again, I lean over and put my hand between her legs, sliding along the wet slit, finding her rear entrance, pushing inside both holes, matching my thrusts.
Heat rushes to my cock, immense, scorching heat, and my mind goes blank as I come in her mouth. Hard. Her pussy begins to spasm around my fingers again, as does her ass. I already know I’m going there. I’ll tie her up, I’ll make her come until she begs me to stop. I’ll make her fucking safeword her own pleasure, because she just can’t take anymore.
I pull out and fall to my knees, cupping her cheeks in my hands. Kerry lies absolutely still, only her eyes move, darting between mine. I tilt my head, trying to compensate for her upside-down position, then I look her over, wondering where my load went. “Did you swallow?”
Kerry scoffs, turns over on her belly and pulls the comforter to her, trying to drape it over her back. “I had no choice or I’d choke.”
I can’t help grinning. “I fucking love you.”
Sitting up, groaning when her butt touches her heels, and quickly changing position, she gives me a dark gaze. “You’re not right in the head.”
“Don’t go mouthy on me again.”
Her eyes soften and a shudder runs through her. “I’m cold,” she whispers.
“Come here, babe.” I lift her and move her so I can lie down beside her, then I find my way under the comforter too, pulling her into my embrace. For a moment she resists, holds back. There’s distrust, and I don’t like it, but I don’t blame her. I’ll never be her knight in shining armor, but I’ll protect her, and our baby until the day I die, and she’ll learn to trust that.
When Kerry finally relaxes, and snuggles closer, my heart jolts with pure happiness. I caress her hair, her cheek, letting my thumb follow the contour of her lower lip.
“You’re so beautiful,” I whisper.
She’s quiet. I look down, meeting her eyes. A whole slew of emotions pass through them and I can’t believe how someone can have so many expressions. She looks me over, hair, eyes, nose, mouth, back to my eyes.
“So are you,” she finally says.
I almost crush her to me. She can’t possibly know how much she means, how deep she has rooted herself in me. I can only hope she feels at least a fraction of the same for me.
I wake from the sound of flushing water in the adjacent bathroom. Stretching, I feel like a big cat who got his cream. There’s a sense of calm in me. We’ll figure this out, we’ll find our way in the mess that is our lives. We’ll sleep some more, but then I’m taking her again. Images of how I tie her up, fuck her, spank her until she matches her word with the color of her butt – red – flash before me, and my cock twitches. Or maybe we won’t sleep.
When she emerges, she has pulled on sweatpants and a T-shirt. Her eyes are glossy and the tip of her nose is a little red.
“That’s not—”
Kerry crosses her arms over her chest, her lips tightening. “What did you do to Chloe?”
For a moment I’m completely blank. Who the fuck is she talking about?
“My friend. What did you do?”
Chloe. Fuck.
The friend.
When I couldn’t find Kerry, after she had run from Chicago, I got desperate and sought out the only one I figured she might have confided in. I was in a dark place. I might have been a bit rough.
“Who?”
Kerry takes a step closer. “You know fucking well who I’m talking about. I swear to God, if you won’t tell me the truth, I’ll never let you in again. I’ll never let you see Cecilia!”
I explode out of bed, stark naked, and stride toward her, towering over her as dark rage rises in me. She’s in no position to make any fucking demands.
She doesn’t move. She has to lean her head back to hold my gaze, and hers is firm, unyielding.
“Did you kill Chloe?”
“What the fuck? No!”
She didn’t die. She didn’t fare particularly well, but she was alive last time I saw her.
“But you did something. I know it. Tell me. I know you’ll come here. I know you’ll demand me to be with you, command me. I know I’m not going anywhere, because you, or your fucking uncle, will make sure of that, but know this Christian: I’ll never trust you again, for as long as I live.”
My stomach churns. I can’t tell her the truth. It’s too ugly. But I can’t lie to her either. I spin around and locate my clothes, putting them back on as I try to come up with what to tell her.
Hell.
When I turn, she still stands in the same position, her features frozen.
“I met your friend once. After you’d disappeared from Chicago.”
Kerry doesn’t speak.
“I wanted answers. I thought she knew where you were. She kept denying it.” I take a deep breath and wait for her to say something. She doesn’t. This is the Kerry from the harbor. The Kerry that first day in the cabin. The tigress, the darkness in her that makes us such a good match. “I— I had to convince myself.”
“Stop squirming, you fuck,” she snarls.
I move forward and push her into the wall, my hand gripping her chin. “You’ve gotta watch that fucking attitude!”
“I don’t care!” she screams in my face. “What did you do to Chloe? Where is she?”
I let her go and take a step back. Pushing a hand through my hair, I wince. She’s not gonna take this well. “I beat her up.”
“What the fuck? Get out!” She pushes at my chest, as if she could move me even an inch. My stomach clenches when I see her tears, angry tears, and her resolute face. “Leave, Christian! Leave! Get the fuck out of here!”
“You wanted the truth,” I snarl. “I beat her up, but I left her alive, some broken bones, nothing she’d die from for fuck’s sake! I had no idea she was missing.”
Kerry’s eyes narrow as she presses her lips into a thin line. “I hate you! I could never love you! Never. I hate everything you are! Get the fuck out of here.”
I stumble back, not from her physical little attempts at moving me, but from the force of her words. Pain shoots through my chest. I don’t do pain, I deal pain. Feelings make you weak, and I’m fucking done.
“This isn’t over,” I growl and storm down the stairs. Where my heart should be there’s nothing but a swirling dark void, the monster in me roaring in fury. I have no idea if I can mend this, but I’m nothing if not persistent. I’ll wear her down. She’s mine. She’s always gonna be mine, no matter what. She and my daughter.
Chapter 20
Kerry
I flinch when the door slams closed so hard it seems the whole foundation shakes. I inhale and exhale ragged breaths, my heart slamming in my chest. My rage is mixed with a profound sorrow that I already know is going to eat me until there’s nothing left.
Christian can’t be anything to me, and yet he is my whole world. He’s the only one who makes me soar with a dark passion I never knew existed. He’s the father of my child, and despite what he is, there’s an obvious deep devotion to Cecilia there.
When the first raw sob tears through my throat, there’s nothing stopping the wave of cries that brings me to my knees. I curl up into a little ball on the thick rug and wail until there are no more tears.
The guilt suffocates me. It all my fault. Completely and fully my fault, from start to… end? No. There’s no end.
If I hadn’t talked to Salvatore that morning? If I hadn’t had such a vivid imagination when little David talked about the red he’d seen. If I hadn’t i
nvolved Chloe. If I hadn’t run.
If, if, if.
It’s a little past eight in the morning. Mom and Cecilia must be up. I want my mom. I want to be little again. I want all of this to just go away. It hurts too much.
My hands shake when I splash some water on my swollen face, then I grab my keys and phone and flee my empty house, echoing with memories of our night together. I’m not sure if enough hours have passed since I had my last drink, but I can’t wait. I have to be with people who are good, with people who love me with simple words and actions.
There’s not a lot of traffic early Sunday morning in San Francisco. Cabs. Garbage trucks. People who work odd hours. The occasional early bird tourist with out of state plates, driving too slowly, switching lanes erratically. And me, driving too fast, my vision blurred with tears, fleeing the devil. Stabs shoot through me when I think of my friend. Again and again. I need Cece’s warm little arms around me, her devotion and unconditional love. She’s my rock and the center of my world.
Gravel crunches under my tires as I park on Mom’s driveway. A curious head peeks out from behind the curtain in the kitchen window and I exhale with relief that they are awake. The door swings open and my mom’s confused face meets me, confusion turning into a worried frown as she takes in my disheveled appearance.
“Kerry! What happened?”
“I’ll explain,” I choke out. “Where is Cecilia?” I take a step into the hallway and walk toward the sound of the children’s show, coming from a room to the right. Dad’s old office, still with his large oak desk by the window, but otherwise turned into a guest room.
Cecilia looks up, a surprised look on her adorable little face, her dark eyes widening. Then she slithers off the bed and rushes toward me, throwing her arms around my legs. “Mommy!”
“Pumpkin!” I fall to my knees and hug her back, holding her tight, reveling in the feeling of her body tight against mine, her chest heaving, her powdery scent.
I’m surprised by the nickname. I’ve never called her that before. It’s almost as if Dad just channeled through me.
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