Revenge

by E M Courier

  On Hazel’s wrist is a purple bruise. Yesterday her father was yelling at her mother and she got in the way. Her father grabbed her wrist and moved her aside. She ran upstairs and hid in the closet with her teddy while she cried for the next hour. The hot summer sunshine on her skin and the beauty of the flowers in their garden make everything seem okay again.

  “Hazel!” Her father calls for her.

  She grabs her teddy holding him close. She sits on her knees staring at the back porch which her father is standing from.

  “Hazel!” He calls again. He doesn’t sound mad. In fact he sounds happy.

  Squinting her eyes she can make out what’s in his hands. Her father walks down the steps of the porch and heads toward her with a bouquet of yellow roses.

  Hazel sprints to him, holding her teddy by his leg and dragging him along the ground. “For me?”

  “For you my little sweetheart,” he hands her the bouquet that’s bigger than herself. “I’m so sorry about last night. You know Daddy didn’t mean to hurt you. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Daddy,” she smiles and he kisses her on the cheek.

  “I know I get angry sometimes and I know that scares you. You know that you are my most favorite person in the entire world. I’d never let anyone hurt you. Please forgive me, honey.”

  “I forgive you, Daddy.”

  Hazel and her father hug. His arms embracing her are warm and soothing and the smell of his minty citrus cologne is comforting. Whenever Hazel is in his arms she feels protected. Her smile only radiates larger as he gently squeezes her to his body. She closes her eyes as he rubs his hand along her back. Her father means the world to her. What would she ever do without him?

  His temper is bad when it’s bad, but before he picks up any alcohol he is the most tolerable man in the world. He kisses her boo-boos, makes her favorite snacks, gives her piggy back rides, and lets her eat ice cream before dinner. Her father has hung up every drawing she’s given him and constantly encourages her to follow her dreams. He is her real life superhero. He is everything and Hazel loves him more than she could ever love another person—next to her mother, of course.

  The locks on the door click startling Scarlett out of one of the nicest memories she has of her father since before the accident. Sitting on the window seat, she looks over her shoulder to see Alexander standing in the doorway. He looks a wreck.

  His usual crisp and clean appeal is replaced by wrinkled dress pants and a simple white button-up only halfway buttoned, one sleeve rolled up further than the other. His hair is unkempt, a strand falling in front of his face.

  Scarlett stands, she’s naked with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Alexander stares intently at her, his eyes roam over his breasts and down the length of her body. Scarlett bites her lip nervously. Her body moves on its own accord stepping forward toward the man with dark haunted eyes.

  Alexander steps toward her with one long stride until they are mere inches from one another. “I told you unless we’re eating,” he grabs the blanket and pushes it from her shoulders. The blanket falls to the floor behind her. “I want you naked.”

  Shivers run down her spine. “Alexand—”

  “Don’t,” he closes his eyes.

  She frowns. “You haven’t been here in two days.”

  “I’ve been trying to stay away.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t think I have any self control left in me.”

  “Is that why you’re here now?”

  He stares down at her. “Are you afraid?” His voice husky and laced with intense desire.

  She pauses for a heartbeat. “No.”

  “You should be,” he shakes his head.

  “I’m not,” she hooks her fingers through the belt loops on his waist.

  She can’t tell if she truly wants him or if her loneliness and craving for companionship is so strong that she is willing to give him everything.

  Is she crazy?

  He is keeping her captive.

  He is torturing her father.

  Yet the longing and magnetism is so fierce it consumes her every waking thought.

  “Do you want me?” He asks tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “Yes,” she breathes out.

  “Who do you belong to?”

  “You.”

  He grabs her wrists pulling her hands away from his belt loops. Dominance radiating off of him as he control her body, mind, and soul. And she listens. He backs her up until her legs hit the bed and she falls on her back. The sheets feel soft and cool against her but the tingling sensation pulsating throughout her body is caused by the man standing over her.

  Alexander drops to his knees and pulls Scarlett so her butt is on the edge of the bed. He hooks both her legs over each of his shoulder. Her sex embarrassingly close to his face. He brushes kisses along her inner thigh. She trembling with anticipation as he gets as close to her core as her can without touching where she needs him most. The wetness gathered between her legs only grows, a throbbing sensation that makes her ungulate her hips. Hoping to create some type of sensation by any kind of friction.

  Scarlett sits up the second Alexander presses his mouth against her, her eyes wide with disbelief. It baffles her how something like this can feel so good. His tongue sliding through her folds lapping on her juices. With eyes rolling into the back of her head, she falls back in pure bliss, moaning out her ecstasy. It’s even better than when he used his fingers.

  Scarlett’s thighs tightened around his head, squeezing him. His tongue darts inside of her and she loses her mind. She can’t think, can’t remember to breathe, not while he does that. Panting with the need for an orgasm she begs him which encourages his tongue to work harder. His lips close around her pleasure-ridden nub sending her further into a place of mind jarring delight.

  Forcing her eyes open she looks down at Alexander feasting on her, his eyes locked on her—staring at her. His pupils so dilated they look almost completely black. She watches every stroke of his tongue and suck of his mouth. The sight giving her a thrill, it’s better than anything she could’ve ever made up in her mind. The heat between her legs gets hotter until his tongue sets her on fire. Biting down on her arm she screams, her body convulsing and shaking through the eruption of her orgasm. It feels like it lasts forever as Alexander continue to lick her like he can’t get enough of her taste.

  When he comes up his face is red and his breathing heavy. He wipes his bottom lip with his thumb, his eyes still fiercely pinned to hers, focused and carefully deciding his next move. Scarlett feels limp and weak, yet her body is screaming for more. She feels too empty, a foreign feeling to her. Nervous and unprepared, yet ready and exhilarated, her legs open wider inviting him in. She wants all of him. Needs all of him.

  Her father who was once a safety net—who was once the person who protected her, is gone. Although still alive, the father she was once knew is tainted by past memories of who he really was. Drunk. Abusive. The truth about what he did to Ellie and her mother tells Scarlett he is not the man she always thought him to be. He’s a murderer.

  Now she has Alexander.

  Her mind clinging to this idea that Alexander will be the one to set her free from her past. Her a life tied down by lies. She looks at him with trust and understanding in his eyes, but what she sees back...he’s too far gone. Feral with need, a loss of self-control. They’ve both been fighting against what they want. Scarlett is scared of making the wrong choice, scared of sleeping with him, but in this moment there’s nothing she’d rather be doing than laying in this bed with Alexander.

  “Who owns you?” Alexander says while unbuttoning his shirt.

  Scarlett aches to reach and touch him. The hard muscles on his body, the way his skin glistens from the sweat beading down his impeccable abdomen. When Alexander starts undoing his pants she knows there is no turning back. This moment, losing her virginity, something she’s dreamed, something she imagined many times, is finall
y happening. Her heart thumps rapidly against her chest.

  Alexander’s body is sculpted to perfection. Large biceps, strong thighs, impressive length. He looks even more enticing with the way his usually slicked back hair is falling in front of his face. She watches him turn away from her to grab something in one of the drawers in her desk. After snooping thoroughly, she knows exactly what he’s getting.

  Rope.

  Last time she was tied to this bed there was a vibrator between her legs. Pleasure that turned to pain and stayed painful until the morning Alexander switched the machine off. She prays that’s not what he’s doing again. A part of her knows though, that’s not what he’s getting the rope to do. Not while he’s naked and certainly not while his cock is standing at attention.

  Long and hard.

  Scarlett nearly drools.

  She lets him tie her wrists to the bed frame without her struggling. She rubs her thighs together feeling the stickiness of her own wetness. Her body is weeping for his. Alexander is focused on tying the rope good enough so there’s no chance of escape. After he finishes tying her ankles, leaving her spread eagle on top of the bed, he positions himself.

  He leans down, their heads next to each other. His breath fans the shell of her ear making her arch—their slick bodies pressing against each other. “Tell me your mine,” he whispers. “Tell me you want this.”

  Scarlett nods her head. Her brain short-circuits too engrossed in her own excitement and overwhelmed by so many new sensations, she momentarily forgets how to speak.

  He repeats himself, “Say that you’re mine.”

  “I’m yours,” a breathy response comes out of her.

  Alexander’s hips touch hers, she can feel him—hot as steel—against her thigh. Pressing his forehead against hers, he reaches between them until the tip of his cock is against her entrance. She sucks in a breath, nerves getting the better of her.

  “I’ve never…” She begins.

  “I know,” he breathes out his reply.

  He opens his eyes, gazing at her while he pushes himself in slowly, inch by inch. She pulls at the restraints trying to grab onto him, grab onto anything, while he stretches her so wide that her eyes begin to water.

  Whimpering, Alexander stops making sure she’s okay. “Do you need a minute?” He murmurs sounding pained from his own restraint.

  He’s going surprisingly slow for a man who has a reputation with the ladies. She expected fast, more taking than giving. But he’s giving her so much. His gentle side. His patience. His compassion and understanding.

  “Yeah, just a second,” Scarlett tries to calm her rapid pulse. Embarrassment starts to take over, ashamed at her lack of experience.

  Alexander must sense her nerves because he starts kissing her neck knowing how much she loves it. She loves the feel of his lips on the sensitive skin of her throat and she loves the marks he leaves when he’s done.

  The sharp pain turns into a dull ache and she hadn’t even realized while she was so absorbed in the attention her neck was getting, he was slowly pushing himself further inside of her. Further. Further. Further to the hilt. She can’t believe he’s actually inside of her.

  She’s throbbing around him feeling deliciously full and stretched. She clenches around him and her reward is a groan slipping from his lips. He’s still hanging onto his self control as he goes slow. His hips retreating and then plunging back into her heat. Scarlett gasps feeling dizzy and shocked by the overwhelming sensation of him rubbing in all the right spots. There is still a pinch of pain that makes her wince, the wince that comes out of her catches Alexander’s attention causing him to go slower while also giving attention to more sensitive areas.

  His tongue licks over her nipple while his moves south of her body until he works his fingers skillfully between her legs, rubbing in a slow circular motion. The pleasure only builds from that.

  It all feels like too much for Scarlett and her moans turn to cries. Cries of pleasure but cries of the overwhelming amount of emotions going through her mind right now. She wishes she was tied so she could embrace him and hold him—needing the comfort of his body close to hers despite how close they are already. Alexander’s head picks up from her nipple to watch his cock thrust into her tight heat over and over again. He groans again and the sound excites Scarlett pushing her closer to the edge of her second orgasm.

  His eyes meet hers, the intensity and intimacy of them gazing at each other during an act so vulnerable makes her feels as though she’s baring her soul to his, and his to hers.

  “Tell me you’re mine,” he wraps his hand around her throat applying a slight pressure.

  “I’m yours,” she doesn’t look away.

  “Tell me you want this.”

  “I want this.” And she does.

  “Tell me you want me,” there’s a hint of bashfulness in the way he says this. So passive and open like he’s giving her a piece of him and he’s afraid she’ll reject it.

  “I want you,” she says with ferocity. His eyes light up at her response. The fire between them further igniting, both of them mere seconds from an explosion. “I want you, Alexander.”

  “Scarlett,” he groans his hips picking up pace, savagely thrusting into her chasing his release.

  Her name on his lips makes her lose control. All sense of reality ceases to exist as Scarlett withers underneath his body having the strongest orgasm she’s ever experienced. Her orgasm milks his cock until Alexander pushes deep inside of her, stilling, as his spills his seed inside of her.

  He’s so beautiful when he comes.

  Exhausted and spent, Alexander rests his body on top of hers. His cock still inside her slowly softening. Again, she wishes she was untied so she could hold him. Her wish comes true when Alexander abruptly lifts off of her leaving her body cold without his heat. He stands at the side of her bed untying the rope from her wrists and ankles. She rubs the rope burn on her wrists from yanking, pulling, and struggling in its grips.

  Warily, Scarlett watches Alexander’s movements. He seems unsure of himself, usually he stands tall and confident but he won’t meet her gaze, as if he’s ashamed or something. That in turn makes Scarlett feel ashamed. She reaches for the blanket to cover her nakedness. Her body feels like it’s floating and feels as though it’s humming. The whole experience was pleasant but now the aftermath feels like something major has shifted between the two.

  Of course something has.

  They just had sex.

  She feels like they had more than sex.

  She feels like she lost her entire heart.

  And he took it. Alexander walks out of her room locking it on his way out. She wraps her arms around herself and starts to tear up.

  Cuddles and comfort, that’s what she wanted. She feels like an idiot for thinking a man as ruthless as him would provide her with something as passionate and intimate as holding each other after sex. That’s all that was to him—sex.

  Stupid. You let your emotions get in the way.

  Still, she had hoped he would’ve stayed longer. Curling up in bed, in the sheets that smell a mix of the two of them, as his seed slowly leaks from her, she starts to cry.

  Crying for unfairness.

  Crying for lack of comfort.

  Crying for the situation her father put her in.

  Crying for the sister she never knew.

  Crying for the mother she once loved.

  Crying for the father she thought she knew.

  And crying mostly for herself.

  ***

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Alexander leans against Scarlett’s door. His back up against the wood while he’s seated on the floor. He can hear her crying and that makes him feel like an asshole.

  He stayed away for two days so that wouldn’t have happened. Sex was always apart of the plan, to show Gavin a video or hope maybe she’d bleed and he could show him the white sheets. But this type of sex was never a part of the plan. It had too many feelings involved. It was
never supposed to be gentle and caring, she was supposed to cry and fight him. She wasn’t supposed to willingly give herself and more.

  Alexander is torn.

  Any gentleman would have held the girl who just gave him her virginity. Any self-respected gentleman would have made her first time as amazing as possible. Would’ve let her know she waited for the right man. He ruined all that the second he left her alone and cold on her bed. He ruined it the second he walked into her room with intentions of having sex with her.

  After his talk with Atticus a few days ago, he knew that things would get complicated the second he acts on his feelings. That’s why he vowed that night she was just going to be his prisoner to toy around with. Then, one day when Gavin is out of his mind crazy and has given up on life, he will deliver the final blow by lying that his daughter is dead, slit his throat, and set Scarlett free. That day she will leave and she won’t choose Alexander, she’ll choose a life for herself that includes a freedom he could never give her.

  No, he’s a territorial bastard who likes to stake his claim. He likes dominance and controlling and even though everything inside him screams that Scarlett loves being controlled by him, he knows the only way she can fulfill her life and follow her dreams is without him.

  He vowed he wouldn’t claim that part of her and he fucked up. Girls like Scarlett save themselves not because their prudes, but because they are waiting for that right guy who will love them unconditionally. To marry them. To give them the fairytale ending.

  She’ll be regretting it soon, if she isn’t already.

  Her sobs already tell him that she’s starting to.

  Alexander is too messed up from the demons of his past to give her a fairytale ending. Though he wishes he could. Maybe in another life under different circumstances they could’ve had a normal life spent together.

  Sitting outside her door, an hour has passed. He doesn’t hear her crying anymore but when he pulls out his phone to look at the surveillance camera he sees she is on the floor of the shower, water on, hugging her knees, face buried in her legs. Although he can’t see her face and can’t make out any tears, it is the way her shoulders are shaking that tell him she’s still weeping.