My back bows off the bed, and he takes the opportunity to slip his hand between my back and the mattress, pushing mychest up so he can feast on me. Rogue grinds his cock into me, filling me up before pulling back and slamming into me roughly.
My breasts jiggle with every thrust as he sets a relentless pace. I wrap my legs around him and dig my heels into his sculpted ass, crying out when he hits that spot inside me that pushes me right up to the edge.
I feel my muscles tense as my pussy tightens around his thickness. He lifts his head from my chest and studies my face, no doubt sensing how close I am. My thighs shake and a shiver runs up my spine, seizing my lungs and forcing out a scream as I come around his cock.
Rivulets of pleasure course through my body, making every nerve ending spark to life. Rogue fucks me through it, never letting up. He still has my wrists secured in his grasp, despite all my writhing around and trying to twist away from the intense pressure and sharp ecstasy he’s creating deep inside of me.
I swear I’m about to come again, but suddenly Rogue isn’t on top of me anymore. I hardly have time to register his absence before his large hands grasp my hips firmly. Rogue flips me over effortlessly, then pulls my hips back so I’m on all fours.
“Fuck yes,” he grunts, gripping my ass cheeks and spreading them wide.
Rogue thrusts into me, growling when he bottoms out. I let out a broken cry as I unravel for him, my orgasm ricocheting through my body but never leaving me completely. I’m so fucking sensitive, so raw as he pounds into me.
“I-I-I ca-ca-n’t…” I stutter out, unable to take a full breath.
“You can, baby. Trust me, you can. Feel this with me. Fuck, feel it, Melodie.”
I whimper and nod my head, staying right here with him in the moment, struggling to hold myself up on shaky arms while my pussy knots around him over and over. Incoherent words and strangled, almost tormented sounds fall from my lips asRogue tears me apart, fucks me so good, so hard, so damn rough. He’s branding me with each savage stroke, claiming all of me, body and soul.
Rogue slides his hand around to my front, spreading his fingers out over my stomach and pulling me even closer to him as he ruts into me. His hand creates even more pressure.
My fingers curl into the sheets, fisting them as I try desperately to hold myself up. When he brushes the tips of his fingers over my clit, my knees wobble and my arms give out completely. I face plant into the pillow, my ass still in the air, Rogue still pounding away. He pinches my clit and I sob out yet another orgasm. My pleasure spikes as white hot bliss fills my veins. When it fades away, I’m completely limp. Boneless. Held up only by Rogue’s punishing grip on my hips.
“Gonna come inside you, love. Gonna make you a mother,” he growls as he holds himself deep inside me. His words make my pussy contract one last time, and that’s his breaking point.
Rogue lets out a feral roar as his cum fills me up. He pulls back and then enters me again as more of his release shoots out of him. There’s so much, I feel it dripping down my thighs, the tickling sensation making me moan and involuntarily tremble in his arms.
I feel the last of his orgasm drain from him, and then Rogue collapses on top of me. He’s sweaty and panting for air as he rests his forehead between my shoulderblades.
I’m not sure how much time has passed as we drifted in and out of sleep, but the room is bathed in the blue-grey light of the pre-dawn. Rogue is fast asleep, his massive arm draped over my waist like a lead weight, pinning me to the mattress. I’ve never felt more secure.
I watch the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the way his tattoos shift with his breath. He looks peaceful, but I know thatsoon, the alarm will go off. He’ll put on that leather vest, pick up his keys, and go to war.
I carefully slide out from under his arm, trying not to wake him. My body feels different. Sore, yes, but alsoawake. For the first time, I don't feel like a victim waiting for the next blow. I feel like someone worth fighting for.
I walk over to the small desk in the corner of the room. There’s a pad of yellow legal paper and a pen. I don't write a note; I don't have the words yet. Instead, I sit in his chair and begin to fold.
I make a bird. Then a butterfly. Then a whole bouquet of intricate, sharp-edged flowers. I line them up on the nightstand right next to his watch and his keys.
When he wakes up, I want the first thing he sees to be the beauty we made out of the scrap paper of my life.
“Morning, beautiful,” Rogue says, his eyes half closed. He has the cutest, sleepiest smile on his face. It almost makes me forget the hell he’s about to walk into. “What’s all this?” The giant man sits up in bed, looking at the array of origami creatures and flowers I made for him. He studies each one like it’s a precious gem, handling the small pieces of folded paper with such care in his large, rough hands.
“I wanted to remind you what we’ve built and what you’re coming home to,” I answer as I sit next to him on the edge of the mattress. I take a butterfly made from a newspaper page and trace the edges with my fingers. “I was just a pile of scraps when you found me. But together, we’ve made something beautiful, don’t you think?”
Rogue’s hands cup my smaller ones, careful not to squish the paper butterfly. “You, Melodie, make everything you touch beautiful. Your smile gives me life, and I will be home, in your arms, as soon as fucking possible. I promise, angel. I’ll always come back to you.”
7
ROGUE
The roar of twenty engines is the only heartbeat I need. We ride in a staggered formation, a wall of chrome and black leather cutting through the morning mist like a scythe. To anyone else, we’re a nightmare on wheels. To me, we’re the cleaning crew. And the world is filthy.
Prez catches my eye and gives a sharp nod. We don’t need a radio. We’ve bled together enough to know the plan by heart. Shadow and the tech crew have already looped the security feeds at Vance’s estate. For the next twenty minutes, the "Kingpin" is blind.
We hit the gates at forty miles per hour.
The reinforced steel doesn't stand a chance against the battering ram attached to the front of Wraith’s truck. It gives way with a screech of tortured metal, and then we’re inside.
