by J. L. Beck
Lifting his arms, he interlaces his fingers and puts them behind his head as a form of control.
I smile, loving that he’s letting me run the show instead of him. My own hands press against his chiseled chest for support. He’s so warm beneath my touch, his body reacting to mine with every movement I make. I roll my hips even more, swiveling them, grinding myself into him, and I’m rewarded with a deep groan.
Hero’s eyes close, and his head leans back. “Fuck…” he hisses out.
It’s barely audible, but I hear it and take that as encouragement I must be doing this the right way.
Moving harder and faster, I get into a rhythm, feeling my own peak forming deep down inside my core. I’m panting so hard, I’m starting to sound like I’m running a marathon. Sweat forms against my brow as I lean into Hero, pressing a kiss to his lips.
He’s so caught up in the bliss of it all, he gives me a sloppy one, which only makes me smile more.
My nails dig deep into Hero’s skin as I’m on the verge of losing control. The sound of my ass slapping against his thighs fills the room. My body vibrating, my legs shaking, my mind thinking of only this moment between us.
When I started out, I was more worried about pleasing Hero, but somewhere along the way, it became about me. Now, I grind into him, chasing my own orgasm. The tip of his cock presses against something wild inside of me. The pleasure owns me. Moving in just the right spot, at the right speed for myself. I let that selfishness take over and do what Hero said. I use him and take him as I please, do what I want with him. The fact that he’s given me this intensifies everything...every emotion is magnified.
My head falls back, and my eyes squeeze shut as my whole body explodes. My womb flutters, literally flutters, like it has a damn heartbeat of its own, and I’m pretty sure I scream Hero’s name, but that might have been inside my head. My release is so strong, I can't think clearly. Everything is floating, and my body feels like it’s not even in this world anymore.
When my mind returns to the present, I lean forward and put both of my hands on either side of Hero’s face, pressing my still trembling lips to his.
“That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he tells me after I peel my lips away and rest my head on his shoulder.
It takes me a few moments to realize he didn’t come yet, his still rock-hard cock inside me.
I sit up and grip onto his shoulders. As I start moving my hips again, my still overly sensitive clit rubs against him with every swivel, making me hiss out.
His arms come around my back, holding me tightly to him. This time, he does guide my movements on top of him. Gripping onto my hips a little tighter, he takes even more control. “Is this okay?” he whispers.
“Yes. It’s your turn now, to use me as you please...”
At my words, a primal grunt rumbles from his chest, and his grip tightens almost painfully. He moves me with the thrust of his hips, driving into me impossibly deep. I bite into the flesh on his shoulder so I won’t scream and scare half the neighborhood.
How deep he is combined with the constant friction against my clit draws yet another orgasm out of me. My walls clench around his dick, setting off his own release. He pulls me in one last time before he stills. Both of our bodies are covered in sweat, making every movement between us feel slimy. Still, I relish in the feeling of his skin against mine. Our combined smells mix together, and I want to stay like this forever…
Hell, who knows, maybe if I knew sex was this good, I would’ve tossed my v-card out the window a long time ago. “We need a shower, but I—can’t move.” Even saying the words is a struggle. Breathing is a struggle.
Hero chuckles. “Give me a minute, and I’ll carry you.”
Just as promised, a minute later, he picks me up and carries me into the bathroom. Hero turns on the shower and makes sure it’s the perfect temperature before stepping into it with me. He sets my feet down onto the ground, steadying me before removing his hand from my hip.
Once I have my footing, he washes me from head to toe, his touch gentle, then shampoos and conditions my hair before he washes himself. I feel like a damn princess.
When we step out, he wraps me up in a large towel and takes me into the bedroom.
Taking advantage of his good mood, I decide now is the perfect time to bring up me wanting more freedom. “Hero, I want to go back to my classes, to tutoring.” I keep my voice strong. There...like ripping off a Band-Aid, quick and pain free, I spit the words out.
“No.”
I wait for him to say something else, but he just gets dressed, as if that’s all he is going to say to that.
“Just no?” I place my hands on my hips, not quite understanding what he is saying. No? Like he can tell me what I can and cannot do?
“I already told you. You are not going to leave my side until I find whoever is watching you. The answer is still no and will remain no until I find the person I’m looking for….” He pauses, his eyes meeting mine, an unsaid promise shining back at me. “And I won’t change my mind. If I were you, I would just stop asking.”
I cannot help but roll my eyes. “Hero, I left my family to be free. I left so I could make my own decisions and not have people tell me what is best for me. I didn’t leave one prison to become trapped in another. Plus, we don’t even know if this person is real. I just felt like someone was watching me, just like you used to. Maybe I was just being paranoid.”
“Don’t compare me to your parents. I’m doing this to protect you, not harm you.” He completely ignores my other comment.
I laugh, but nothing about this conversation is funny. “Funny, because that’s exactly what they used to say.”
Hero’s features darken. “I don’t care what you think, or say, you are not going.”
I tell myself to tread lightly, not to push him over the edge, but it’s been two weeks and nothing bad has happened. I can’t help but fear that maybe Hero is just trying to keep me here with him, so I dig deep inside myself and find my lady balls. “Hero, I’m not asking you. I’m telling you! I’m going back to class. If you don’t like it, then I’m moving back in with Tasha. I won’t be controlled, and I won’t trade one prison for another.”
I see the moment he snaps in his eyes. Disappointment and hurt seeping through his, furious gaze.
It pierces through my heart, but I can’t let him gain control over me, not like this. I want to have a normal life and I can’t hide out here forever.
I can have Hero and still be a normal college kid, right?
“Fine then, go! Go back to your precious classes. Go be a tutor for pennies, and don’t forget to get drugged and raped at parties between all your studying.” He pulls his shirt on and storms out the door.
I think about stopping him, but decide to let him cool off first. I know he didn't mean what he said, but that doesn't make his words hurt any less.
When I hear the front door slam a moment later, sadness seeps into my bones. That's when the first tear rolls down my cheek. While I’m getting myself dressed, I tell myself I did the right thing. I need to make him understand where I stand. I can’t let him make all the decisions in my life. After I’m fully dressed, I decide I need to spend some time with a friend today.
Tasha may still be mad at me for moving in with Hero, but I’m certain she would meet me if I asked her to. Getting my phone out, I send her a quick text asking if she wants to meet for coffee after I talk to the administration people about making up the classes I’ve missed.
She returns my message almost immediately, and I sigh in relief. At least I didn't lose the one and only friend I’ve made. I slip into my flats and stick my phone into my backpack. I sling it over my shoulder and head out the door. I don’t lock it, though. I don’t know when Hero will be home and I don’t want to be locked out.
Cool, fresh air hits me as soon as I step outside. As I walk along the sidewalk, I realize this is the first time in weeks I’ve been outside on my own.
&nb
sp; Which makes me happy and slightly sad, because truthfully, I miss Hero.
Pushing the unwanted feelings aside, I concentrate on the freedom I fought so hard for today and walk myself right up to the administrative building.
I barely make it halfway up the block when the feeling of being watched creeps up on me. The hair on the back of my neck stands up, alerting me. Looking around anxiously, I tell myself it’s nothing. Maybe it’s just Hero trying to scare me. It wouldn’t really surprise me.
Letting my backpack fall off my shoulder, I swing it around so I can take my phone out. I’m just going to call Hero and tell him where I am just in case. I unlock my phone and scroll down to Hero’s name. My fingers move nervously across the screen. Just as I’m about to press the call button, my arms break out into goosebumps and the air shifts around me.
Something’s wrong. Something is very wrong.
I’m not quick enough to turn around and face my attacker. Someone large and strong grabs me from behind and covers my mouth with a white cloth. I panic as my legs thrash. My body surges with a need to run and escape. My fingers dig into my attacker’s arms, but it’s no use my vision starts to blur, and my grip loosens.
A sickening laugh fills my ears. It sounds far away, but close at the same time. I suck in a deep breath to scream, but the words are muffled. No one can hear me. I feel myself drifting further and further away from this world.
The last thought I have before everything turns black is I hope I can tell Hero how sorry I am for not believing him.
Chapter Twenty-One
Hero
The beer goes down smoother than I anticipated. Then again, when you’re pissed off at the entire world and you need an outlet other than fucking, it’s going to.
The petite bartender with fake boobs slides me another beer as if she can read my mind. “I get off in an hour if you want to drink some free beers at my place.” She bats her eyelashes at me.
Ha. As if there was a fucking chance in hell I’d take her up on the offer. “No thanks. I like spending nine bucks for a beer at a strip club.”
She gives me an eyeroll and walks back down to the other side of the bar, probably on a mission to find her next one-night stand. I can’t hold it against her, though. She doesn’t know the organ beating in my chest isn’t my own anymore.
Damon takes the seat beside me and slaps a hand on my shoulder. “Did you see the new girl on the stage?”
I fist the beer bottle in my hand hard enough to break it.
He leans in closer, his voice a whisper. “That one likes it rough. She’ll give you exactly what you want and need. You want me to send her to the backroom to meet you?”
I have to remind myself he means well in his own fucked-up Damon way. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to smash his face in any less. “No, I don’t want to fuck your stripper or strippers.” I sigh. Explaining this to him is going to eat up most of my patience. “I know the concept is foreign to you, so I don’t know how I can make you understand it, but I love Elyse.”
Anger festers. I love her, even though she’s the biggest pain in my ass. Even though she tests me and pushes my buttons—fuck, I love her.
Damon’s eyes go wide. He has no fucking idea what I’m talking about. I realize this would be like trying to explain algebra to a toddler.
“Okay…well, I’ll be in my office if you change your mind.”
I shake my head, completely dumbfounded at his response, and watch him walk through the place like he’s in a hurry.
All right, so he doesn’t really care to hear about things with Elyse. He disappears to the back office, and I continue my crusade to drink the entire place out of beer. But as I do so, my thoughts change. The feelings I’ve pushed down rise to the surface.
I come to terms with the fact that I shouldn’t have walked away. I should’ve fucking stayed at the house, tried to talk to her about everything, tried to reason with her and explain how her safety is my greatest priority.
My anger toward Elyse shifts and now I’m madder at myself than I was at her in the first damn place. I’m so mad at myself, I consider starting a fight with one of the assholes in this place just so I can get my ass kicked.
Music blasts through the speakers, making my head pound. I down the rest of my beer and stand from the bar stool. I nearly collapse against the bar, my feet not quite ready to carry me. I know I need to get home to Elyse, but I’m not sure how I’m going to do that. Forcing myself upright, I drunkenly walk toward Damon’s office.
Maybe he can give me a ride home.
As I get closer to his office, the voices get louder. Damon’s not alone. I lean closer to the door so I can hear them without looking conspicuous. In my mind, I’m doing a good job. Sober me would probably say I’m not.
“You will listen to me, Kiera, or you will die. This world isn’t the same as yours. You’re walking into a fucking nightmare. One wrong move in this world will get you killed. Do you understand me?”
Kiera? I can’t remember anyone named Kiera. In fact, I can’t remember the last time Damon let a woman into his office.
“Just tell me what happened to him,” Kiera pleads, her voice tiny, just like my Elyse’s.
“First rule, don’t ask questions. That’s exactly the kind of thing I’m talking about. Questions like that will get you killed. Just keep your mouth shut and do what I say, otherwise I’ll find another job for you, and you don’t really look like the sucking cock type.”
I hear a sob, and curiosity finally gets the better of me. I knock three times in quick succession before opening it without bothering to wait for his invite to come inside.
He looks furious for a moment, then sees it’s me and sighs. “Changed your mind about the girl I offered?” Of course, everything is about business with this man.
“No, I came to ask you for a ride home,” I slur, almost collapsing into the chair at the front of his desk. My eyes move around the room as it spins.
This is not fucking good.
“You think going home to your girl like this is a good idea?”
“No, but any other idea is shit too. Doesn’t matter when I go home, my ass is still going to be chewed.” My eyes gain enough focus and to land on the mystery woman.
She’s tiny, maybe five-foot, one hundred and twenty pounds. Her hair is a dark auburn, and her eyes are wide and full of fear. She looks like she’s been caught in a trap with no way out.
“How about you crash at my place tonight? I’ve got something at home that will calm you down a bit without making you puke your guts out in the morning.”
“Sure, let’s go. I don’t know how much longer my legs will work.” I slowly get up from the chair, my entire body swaying as the contents in my stomach slosh from one side to the other.
How much beer did I drink?
Damon looks at the girl for a moment, then back to me before getting up and walking past me. “Let’s go, Kiera. Get your shit, you’re coming with me.”
She nervously grabs something next to the couch and gets up, her legs just as unsteady as mine.
I can’t believe my eyes when she starts following Daman like a lost puppy. Is he taking her to his place? Who is this girl? I must be way more drunk than I thought. My mind has to be playing tricks on me. There is no way in hell Damon is bringing her back to his house, or even letting her ride in his car.
I save the millions of questions for later and manage to follow Damon out to his car. Opening the door, I nearly fall on my ass as I slip into the passenger side. A whimper from the back seat catches my attention.
“How drunk am I?” I lean over and ask Damon.
He doesn’t look like he’s in the mood for my bullshit, but most days, I’m not in the mood for his, so he can deal. “Pretty fucking drunk.”
I nod, as if I understand completely. “Okay, good. Because I could’ve sworn there was a chick in the backseat of your car.”
Damon shakes his head, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say a sma
ll smile appears on his lips. But I do know better. Nothing makes him smile. Nothing but money and power.
By the time we get to his place, I am only an eight on the drunk scale. I can walk a little straighter and talk just a tad clearer.
“Go to the guest room and lock the door behind you,” he orders to the girl I keep forgetting exists.
She scurries away, disappearing into the night.
I follow Damon into his living room and sink onto the comfortable leather couch.
He gets out a small metal case from his back pocket and flips it open, revealing three neatly rolled joints. Taking the seat next to me, he pulls a lighter out of his other pocket and lights up one of the joints.
The sweet smell of weed fills my nostrils as Damon breathes out a thick cloud of smoke. He takes two more drags before handing it to me. Greedily, I take a drag, instantly calming.
“So, you really are in love with that girl,” Damon says, like it just now sunk into his brain.
“So fucking much, it hurts. I keep fucking up, but I can’t help it. She pushes all my buttons, good and bad. It’s driving me insane.”
Damon nods as if he suddenly knows what I’m talking about, but he doesn’t understand—he has no fucking clue.
***
When I wake up, my head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and my eyes feel like someone poured sand in them. Everything hurts…every damn thing.
I wish someone would make that ringing noise stop. The high pitch sound is like a jackhammer to my brain. Prying my extremely dry eyes open, I try to take in my unfamiliar surroundings and make sense of it. It takes me a moment to realize I’m at Damon’s, then another to realize the annoying ringing is coming from my phone.