How the Mind Breaks: A Dark Psychological Romance

by Dani René

  “Are you going to tell me how a medium-wage bartender lives in one of the most prominent pieces of real estate in the city?”

  She shrugs before answering, “Daddy can afford it, so I take advantage.” Her response is rehearsed, which further sets my bullshit radar on full alert.

  “And I’m meant to believe that?” I turn to her, meeting those eyes that hold more secrets than I care to toy with.

  “No, I didn’t ask you to. You asked a question, and I gave the general response everyone expects.” She shrugs me off when I step closer to her. Something about her makes me want to know more, but there’s something else that makes me want to push her away.

  “I don’t have time for bullshit, Tia,” I bite out. Anger burns through me like a forest fire, and I turn to her, pushing her against the wall. I press my body against hers and lean in, our mouths inches apart.

  This is the closest I’ve ever been to her, and my God, she’s incredible.

  “Do. Not. Fucking. Lie. To. Me.” My voice is ice as I enunciate each word so she doesn’t think I’m playing around. I’ve been through too much to have some woman fuck up my focus. Especially one playing games.

  I don’t miss the full body shudder that wracks her at my growl. Smirking down, I watch her face morph into a sultry smile. She reaches out for my chest, placing a hand on my pec, but she doesn’t push me away.

  “This what you wanted, Vixen?” Reaching one hand down, I maneuver myself under her skirt before slipping my fingers between her slim thighs and stroking the soft silk that cups her cunt.

  “Yes,” she responds with conviction.

  “Good, because you’re going to get fucked. You’re going to soak my cock in that sweet honey I know you’ve been aching to give me, and then you’re going to suck me clean. Do you understand me?”

  Again, she nods with confidence that has me bulging in my jeans. Perfect.

  Stepping away from her, I watch as the doors slide open, depositing us on the top floor, leading to the penthouse suite. She’s hiding something, and I’ll find out what it is.

  Without a word from her sassy mouth, she opens the front door and allows me to enter an apartment that looks like it’s ready for a photoshoot. There’s nothing personal that stands out as we walk into the space.

  The click of the lock behind me causes me to pivot. The tanned goddess stalks toward me like I’m her prey, but that’s where she’s wrong. I’m the hunter. Her gaze glowers, as if she’s someone else for a moment, like there’s another entity inside her, and I wonder if there is.

  “Are you sure you’re ready for this? I’m not the nice girl you may think I am.” She trails a French-manicured nail down the zipper of my leather jacket. The movement is slow, erotic, and taunts me, slowly ebbing away at my restraint.

  “Nice girl? Who told you I think that? When I look at you, I see a very bad girl.” I grip her wrist, tugging her against me. Her body is small, pliable under my touch. She lifts her gaze up to mine, meeting my eyes with an indignant stare. “I’ve dreamt of you. Fantasized about having you on your fucking knees, sucking me off.”

  Without a smart remark, she drops to her knees as I brace myself against the kitchen counter. My fingers curl around the cool marble, gripping the edge with a white-knuckle hold. The goddess peeking up at me through her thick, dark lashes looks like a fucking porn star.

  Her fingers tug at my belt buckle while I shrug out of my jacket, then I watch her make quick work of pulling down my jeans. As soon as her soft hand fists me, I let out a low groan. A smile spreads on her lips, and her tongue flicks out, licking at my arousal. Plump lips engulf the crown of my dick as she lowers her mouth on my length. It’s slow, torturous, but I love every fucking minute of it.

  She takes my entire shaft into her mouth, the tip hitting the back of her throat as she bobs her head back and forth, all the while maintaining eye contact with me. It’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. Those blue eyes peeking up at me cause my body to turn hot with desire. She has the face of innocence, but she swallows my dick like a pro.

  I’ve been dreaming of this day for far too long. When she hums, the vibrations send me into overdrive. I reach for her, pulling her off my cock until she’s standing flush with me. Her lips are swollen and begging for mine, which I graciously gift her.

  Crashing my mouth on hers, my tongue darts out, tasting the sweetness that is Tia, a dark-haired stranger I know nothing about. I trail my hands down her arms, gripping her hips, pulling her against me. My body is on fire with need as I lower my hands to her ass, lifting her to wrap her legs around my waist.

  “Bedroom,” I growl against her lips, and she points behind her.

  Following the hallway, I find the master bedroom, which is vast with a king-sized bed and cream-colored sheets. We tumble onto the mattress together, me hovering over her, nestled between lithe thighs that hold me steady. Heat engulfs me when she lifts her hips, and I feel the warmth of her core at my bare shaft.

  “I’m going to fuck you so hard, Vixen,” I vow. I’ll make sure she remembers me, remembers this night forever. Kneeling between her thighs, I tug at her tiny top to find the most incredible set of tits I’ve ever seen. Her nipples are dark and pebbled, and I can’t help salivating at the sight of them.

  Tia

  The Past

  He tastes like sin—every inch of him—but he also tastes like salvation. Like light. Calmness. I devour it, like a demon feeding off his soul, as I lick into his mouth. His tongue swirls with mine, and I become addicted. My veins burn, spark, lighting up with need.

  Addiction comes in many forms, but this is pure. As if he’s going to save me from the darkness that clouds my mind. His body is heavy over mine, pressing me into the mattress, while he murmurs dirty words, filthy promises, and I want them all.

  He reaches for his jeans, pulling out a foil wrapper, which I know we don’t need. I place a hand on his before he rips the condom open. “I’m safe…” I blurt out, then allow my words to filter off and I don’t know how to tell him I’ve never actually had Ryker inside me. Never once had him filthy me up. “I…”

  “Talk to me,” Brax murmurs, urging me for the truth I find so difficult to utter.

  “I’m safe, I’ve not been with anyone in a while, not even Ryk.” When I look at him, understanding burns in his eyes. “Just take me.”

  He nods but doesn’t respond. Instead, he drops it on the floor. I’ve never asked for it, never wanted to beg a man to fuck me, but when those caramel pools regard me, I know what I want.

  My mind is awash with nothing but him. For the first time in a long while, all I see is the man before me, not images that haunt me. His body—chiseled, taut, and warm—hovers over me for a long moment, as if he’s waiting for something. For me.

  All my life, men have used me. In more ways than I care to talk about, or think about, for that matter. When I take someone home, I’m the one in control, because men hurt and maim. But this man is something else entirely.

  He doesn’t fuck me yet; instead, he teases me. Rolling his hips, he teases my entrance while his mouth devours my breasts and nipples. They’re peaked and painfully hard. His tongue taunts them, and his teeth bare down on them, biting to give me just enough pain that shoots to my core.

  Gently, he moves higher, planting hot kisses on my neck, up to my earlobe, where he tugs the flesh between his teeth. The low growl that emanates from him vibrates through my chest and deep within my core.

  In turn, my body is alight with need and desire. My fingers grip his shoulders, and my nails dig into the skin, as if I’m about to draw blood. I’ve never felt a craving like this before. Such a fierce need to have someone, to feel someone.

  When he finally puts me out of my misery and slowly slides into me, connecting us, I cry out. My body is open for him, accepting him inside my madness, and I crave everything he’s giving. He plunges into me, driving deep into my core. I feel everything below my belly button tighten, causing a whimp
er to fall from my lips.

  His mouth once again lowers to my hardened nipples, biting down on them, sending shockwaves of desire coursing through me. He’s a drug. It feels as if I’ve shot him into my bloodstream. My head falls back as my eyes flutter closed. The images and memories choke me in their grasp, causing me to spiral, down, down, down. No, please, no. “Tia!”

  A deep rumble breaks through my darkness, and I glance up to find caramel eyes staring down with concern. Our bodies are still connected. He’s inside me. “I—”

  “Look into my eyes,” he orders quietly. I obey, watching his orbs swirl with honey and gold. “Feel me,” he commands again, and I do. Every inch of him slides into me, hitting a spot inside of me that has my toes curling into the sheets.

  My hands on his shoulders grip him as if he’s my lifeline. As if he’s going to save me. “Brax!” His name falls from my lips. It’s not a moan or a cry of ecstasy; it’s something else altogether. My body clings to his.

  “That’s it. Feel me. That’s me fucking you. My dick owning your pussy.” With every word, he slides in deeper than the time before. I’m not sure how it’s possible, but he does. “Come for me. Give me your pleasure. I want every drop.”

  My body convulses at his words, and my nails dig into his shoulders. Ripping skin. Tearing at him. It’s then that I see it.

  Red. Copper. Claret.

  The lifeforce of him seeping from his smooth, creamy skin. I revel in it.

  I want to bathe in it.

  He grunts, thrusting deeper, and I feel his warmth filling me. He stills for a moment, and I lick at the fluid on his shoulder, tasting the sharp metal flavor on my tongue. When he slips out of me and I glance down to look at his body, I really take him in—chiseled, toned, beautiful.

  He has scars, but I don’t ask about them. Small, silver markings all over his torso. There’s a prominent V that dips toward his now softening cock, and thick, muscled thighs look strong enough to hold me up while he fucks me against any wall.

  “Come here.” He reaches for me with a smile. Circling me in his arms, I place my head on his chest, listening to his heart pump life into him, through him. The beat in my own heart calms my erratic breathing and seems to match his, to want that same rhythm.

  I’ve had sex before, I’ve fucked, but this felt . . . real. Different.

  “What’s going on in that pretty little head?” His fingers reach for my chin, lifting my face until my eyes meet his. I knew he’d fuck me up because when I look into those shimmering orbs, I see it. He doesn’t want to say it, or act like it, but I see it.

  Emotion.

  Not love. But concern, affection.

  “Nothing. Why?” He doesn’t answer me, instead shakes his head and lies back, tugging me into his side where I fit easily. I mold to the grooves and dents as if I was a part of him once, and now I’m back where I started.

  The thought scares me. But as fear lingers in the back of my mind, I have it to myself.

  She’s not here. And as my eyes flutter closed, she doesn’t come.

  I have peace.

  Rousing from a dreamless sleep, I roll over and find the sheets cold, my bed empty.

  You’re stained now. He’s marked you.

  No. No. No.

  Did you think he wanted you? That he’d fuck you and fall in love?

  I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. Rising to my feet, I pad into the bathroom and freshen up. My reflection doesn’t taunt me, and I notice a soft pink in my cheeks.

  Stained. Tainted.

  One night with him, and I was free.

  “I didn’t know how long you’d sleep.” A deep, raspy voice startles me, and I yelp in surprise. Pivoting, I find Brax at the threshold of the room watching me, wearing only a pair of jeans. He’s barefoot and shirtless with his arms crossed in front of him.

  “What—?”

  “You think I’d leave after last night?” He tips his head to the side, regarding me with those captivating golden pools I seem to get lost in too quickly.

  “No. I mean, yes. You weren’t in bed,” I state matter-of-factly.

  “I wasn’t because I was making you breakfast.” My gaze snaps to his in shock. “I do know how to cook, so I figured you wouldn’t mind waking up to something to eat, and perhaps coffee?” His lips quirk as his eyes narrow, his shoulder resting on the doorjamb.

  “I suppose, yes.” Dropping my gaze, I focus on the tiles, counting them one by one. Slow. Focus. Breathe.

  “Hey.” His hands reach for me. They’re warm, and he smells like food, like sustenance, and I realize that this man may be the end of my pain.

  Maybe he’s my peace.

  My salvation.

  No, I can’t focus on someone else.

  I need me, only me.

  I’ll hurt him. I always hurt them. She’ll make me; she’ll tell me I must. There’s no one else who can get me out of this. I’ve been alone for too long to falter now. I’ve been tasked to do a job, so that’s what I’ll do.

  “Vixen, look at me,” he implores me quietly with a gentle touch. When I drag my gaze up to his, I find warmth. So fucking addictive, I’m already losing all restraint. “Where do you go? What’s inside here?” He taps my temple lightly. Just the touch alone sends a shiver of delight through me.

  “I protect others.” My response falls from my lips before I can think, earning me a frown from him. The look of confusion on his handsome face instills fear in my heart because I can’t tell him why. His gaze is transfixed on me. “I can’t talk about it. Can we eat?” I change the subject, hoping he doesn’t press further. Thankfully, he doesn’t. Instead, he pushes his body against mine, which has heat surging down my spine, over my skin, into every nerve in my body.

  “I’d love to. How about I get a little more acquainted with that beautiful pussy?” The side of his mouth lifts in that sexy side grin that has a flurry of butterflies wakening in my belly.

  “What makes you think last night was anything other than a one-time thing?” I quip.

  He leans in, whispering in my ear, “The fact that you’re standing here all wet and needy for me to make you come again. Also, you’ve not yet asked me to leave, which means you’re aching again. Something about me makes you want it. I make you want it.”

  His words reveal everything that’s running through my mind because I do. I want it; I want him.

  But I can’t. I should push him away, tell him to leave. He shouldn’t be here.

  And when he steps back, I have every intention of telling him so, but you know what? I don’t. Why? Because I’m a fucking masochist. I want to feel, and even though I know there’ll be death, I don’t let him go. Instead, I let him eat my pussy until I can’t walk.

  Tia

  The Present

  “Close your eyes, Tia.” I do. “Relax and breathe.” My lungs fill with much-needed air. As if I’m floating. Her stillness calms me, giving me a reprieve from the storm raging in my mind.

  I’m on a cloud, and she’s an angel watching over me.

  So quiet, so serene, giving me what only he gives me. Peace.

  My eyes flutter as memories start appearing, and as much as I want to open my eyes to clear them, I don’t. I allow myself to feel, to drift into the hypnotic dream she’s telling me to find. My mind drifts back, back, back . . . to that day . . . It’s cold, so cold. My head hurts. It’s a violent pounding in my brain, as if it’s about to shatter my skull. “I want you to remember the day it happened. When your life changed for the first time.” I nod. I must have because she is quiet for a while.

  “Momma, what are you doing?” She’s there; I see her. She’s coming toward me. Her dark curls are pinched tight. Her chocolate skin glistens with sweat as if she’s exerted herself. I don’t remember why. Or where she’s been. She looks different, no longer the smiling face I remember. This time, it’s a distorted expression, filled with something . . . anger? No, she doesn’t look it. What is it? I reach for her, but she’s too far. Yet s
o damn close.

  She’s mouthing something, but the words are silent. No sounds. Just an image.

  “Are you with her, Tia?”

  “Yes, she’s tired. Sweaty. She’s running to my bedroom. Screaming.”

  “Why? What is she saying?” Another question, but everything blurs, and my head throbs in agony. Then suddenly, piercing sounds. Something screeches. What? I don’t know.

  My body trembles.

  My heart races.

  Nothing makes sense.

  It’s spinning; everything is twirling, making me dizzy.

  I can’t hear her. Why can’t I hear her?

  “Tia, breathe, listen to my voice.” She’s trying to calm me, but there’s too much happening. How do I fix it? Momma. My mind is in turmoil, and my eyes hurt. Tears. I’m crying. Why am I crying? “Tia, come back . . . Listen to me. I’m going to count down . . .”

  “No! Don’t! No!”

  “Five.”

  “Stop!”

  “Four.”

  “Momma, behind you!” I can’t leave her. Why is she making me leave Momma? Just a moment longer. I can save her. I can get her from the dark. It’s so dark. It’s red. There’s too much red.

  “Three.”

  It’s all over me. My hands. The floor. The carpet is stained. The smell is acrid in my nose. Shaking my head, I try to clear my mind. My senses. Everything is too loud. There are people shouting at me. My throat hurts.

  “Two.”