She whines and moans, writhing her hips against my hand. She doesn’t push me off, doesn’t pull away, doesn’t fight me, even as I lay my darkness out for her to see.
“Did you make me come?” she asks between gasps and moans.
Her question surprises me, so much so that my fingers stop their exploration of her sweet cunt. She whines in annoyance. I chuckle darkly at her desperation. What a dirty little thing she is. My fingers of my free hand thread into her soft red locks as I pullher head back, forcing her gaze to meet mine.
“Every fucking time, pretty girl,” I growl before adding a third finger inside her and fucking her roughly. She cries out in shocked pleasure and her head tries to bow back down but I hold her tightly, forcing her eyes onto me.
“I’m not the hero of this story, Allison. I’m a bad man who’s done terrible things. I’m a man consumed by need—need for vengeance, for pain, for suffering. But most importantly, I’m consumed by my need foryou. I would do—will do—anything to have you.” She moans as her walls clench against my fingers. She’s so fucking beautiful like this—flushed and feral as she chases her release. “Your light, your beauty, your fire is everything. I’ve been yours from the moment I first laid eyes on you, and my soul will be yours long after my flesh has rotted from my bones.”
“Did you do all this…” She pants and mewls between each word, caught between finding her truths and her pleasure. “Frame Brody and everything just to get to me? Wouldn’t there be easier ways?”
I answer her question cautiously, carefully. I don’t want to lay too much on her at once, especially not when she’s about to come all over my fingers.
“He’s a bad, bad man, Ali.” My fingers move faster, pushing her closer to the edge with each confession. “He hurt a lot of women, a lot of girls. One was my sister.” Ali’s eyes close and her walls tense around my fingers. “That’s my second reason for all of this chaos. He deserves to suffer for all the women he’s ever harmed.” Ali’s mouth falls open on a silent scream as she falls over the edge. Her pussy clamps around my fingers and her orgasm shakes her entire body. “For you. For my sister. For all the women he used and abused.” Ali lets out a low noise of ecstasy as wave after wave of pleasure contracts her muscles. “He will pay. He will suffer.”
I pump her through the remainder of her orgasm, letting her ride out the high as long as I can. Eventually, she slumps forward, her body shaking with aftershocks of euphoria. I pull my hands out from inside her once her muscles relax. She sags further as exhaustion hits. I rub soft circles on her back, basking in the beauty of her sated tranquility.
“What happened to her?” she finally whispers with her eyes closed. “To your sister.”
I freeze instantly. I haven’t talked about this since I was sixteen. It’s the ghost of trauma which lurks just outside my consciousness but which has impacted so much of my life. A lump immediately forms in my throat but I do my best to swallow it down.
“They got her drunk,” I instantly stumble over the words, my nerves making it difficult to speak. “They took turns. Filmed it.” I feel Ali tense beneath me despite her exhaustion. “The video was spread around and she—” My voice cracks as the memories come flooding back. “She couldn’t take it. She ended her life.”
Ali lifts her head slightly, glancing at me over her shoulder. There’s fire and fury swirling in her eyes. “He took her life. Now you want to take his?”
She gets it so easily, as if her mind is connected to mine. She understands. Without question, without judgment, without hesitation. She is my match in every way, this is just further evidence of that truth.
“It started as revenge,” I confess. “But then he married my soulmate, stole another person that I loved from me.” I squeeze her thigh, right where I carved my claim into her flesh. She sucks in a sharp breath. “Now, it’s about so much more.”
“Your revenge. My freedom,” she whispers as her eyes fall shut again.
“Our freedom. Our new beginning,” I agree as I slide my hands beneath her legs, lifting her in my arms to carry her tobed. Her head falls against my chest, her hair tickling my skin.
Sleep is calling her name, pulling her under swiftly. But my cock is rock hard. She will take me once more, then I’ll let her rest. I carry her up the stairs towardourbed. As we reach the landing and I pad down the hall, she whispers two words that have my heart pounding against my rib cage. “Our forever.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Garett
Watching Allison sleep in my arms, in my bed, in my home is the single most peaceful moment I’ve lived in as long as I can remember. Her red hair is splayed out around her, like a halo of fire and light. Her smooth skin glows like porcelain in the low light of the moon streaming in through the window. A goddess—a creature of strength and beauty willingly lying next to me.Mine. She’s mine. All mine. My chest swells with pride as I watch her burrowherself closer to me. Even in sleep, her psyche craves me just as much as I crave her.
I might be a fucking demon, a Devil in sheep’s clothing, a monster lying in wait—but I’m her monster.
After fucking her again, slowly, tenderly, in our bed, she crashed. She’s been through so much—with her husband, a presumed stalker, an affair, running, being chased, being caught, submitting to the inevitability of us. She needs her rest. And I’ve always been a big fan of watching her sleep.
I wonder if she’ll still let me drug her and fuck her, even now that we’re together. The idea did seem to excite her when I told her about it in the kitchen.
The shrill sound of my alarm system breaks through the silence. I swiftly grab my phone off my nightstand and silence the alarm so as not to wake my Sleeping Beauty. I glance over at her. She stirs but doesn’t wake. My eyes flit back to my phone. There’s a car at my gate. Luke’s car. Demanding entrance to my home.
What do these fuckers want?
“Sweetheart,” I gently whisper against Ali’s temple. She grumbles and snuggles deeper into the sheets. “I need you to stay here, love. No matter what you hear, do not come out. Do you understand?” She makes a small huff which I take as a form of acknowledgment.
The doorbell rings from across the house. Clearly they made it to the front door. My eye twitches at their lack of respect for our sleep. I hate to leave her—no, I loathe to leave her, especially when she’s sleeping in my arms. But these assholes won’t leave unless I deal with whatever it is they’re here for. Throwing on a pair of black slacks and a black T-shirt, I quietly make my way from the room, careful not to disturbed my Sleeping Beauty’s slumber.
The buzzing sound of my doorbell rings through the homeagain. The noise is annoying and grits against my nerves. The buzzer soundsagain.
I might actually murder her tonight. Him too.Fuck it.
