Page 74 of Grace

Cyrus pulls my panties aside and enters me, stealing my breath for a second. He moves slowly, his fingers tracing my spine while his lips and tongue provide a delicious distraction. I sink my fingers into his hard, muscular shoulders and meet his gentle thrusts, urging him to go harder.

He grabs my ass and pulls me down onto him. He’s so deep inside me that white sparks burst across my vision. I moan softly, gasping for air, my heart beating to a wild, frantic rhythm.

Cyrus lies back and draws me with him. My stomach presses against his, and my clitoris rubs against his body. My muscles loosen, and I let him do all the work, because… every one of his thrusts feels like punishment. Being with him burns a raw, gaping hole in my chest—one I may never be able to heal—but… it would be stupid to stop now. This must happen.

Tears fill my eyes, but I blink twice to force them back. I use the searing hatred burning in my chest to steel myself.

It was him who robbed me of being a normal woman. Of having a normal life.

Cyrus pulls me into a hard kiss. His tongue is impatient, carving violent circles inside my mouth. The air drains from my lungs. I’m suffocating. I shove myself away from him, bracing against the thin frame of the bed. Cyrus is a good man—but he’s a man all the same. The ancient instinct in him breaks free, and he doesn’t care about anything now. I’ve heard how he likes it, and now I’ve felt it too. He slides out of me and kneels behind me. I rise onto my knees as well. He presses my upper body against the cool wall, and my nipples brush against the wallpaper.

He pulls my hips back slightly and enters me deep. He places his index finger on the thin skin of my most sensitive spot and braces his other hand against the wall. He kisses my back wildly. He’s fucking me at a brutal pace, our bodies slap together loudly. He growls and moans into my skin, the sounds muffled and feral. His finger moves faster and faster, rubbing me so hard it borders on pain. There is nothing sensual or gentle about it—only raw desire and ancient, animal instinct.

I press my flushed face against the cool wall and clamp my lips shut to keep myself from screaming.

Cyrus finds the right pace, as his hand slows between my legs.

“Come on, you’re almost there, baby,” he growls against my skin, then licks my ear. His sweaty body presses into my back, and his thrusts slow down. He pulls me away from the wall and grips my neck. He turns my face back toward his and kisses me hard while rubbing me mercilessly down there. I can’t shield myself from all the positive and negative feelings and sensations spiraling inside me—I let go.

I climax.

He tilts me forward and yanks himself out. His warm semen splashes across my back. I freeze and forget to breathe. I’m on birth control, and Chase… Chase never did this to me. But I can’t blame Cyrus. It’s not his fault that, to me, sex is something ugly. Unless it’s with… him.

Afterward, I’m lying on my back in bed, staring at the ceiling like a lifeless piece of wood. I’m empty. Completely.

Hot tears streak down my face. I believed that once this was over, I’d be able to move on—yet my past and the bitterness are swallowing me deeper and deeper, dragging me down, refusing to let me go.

Chase…

My chest tightens.

Why did you do this to me?

Cyrus throws his huge arms into the air, cheering, when Billy Ray, the team captain of the Roaring Bears, puts an end to the match—and my suffering—with a game-winning, last-second touchdown. I still don’t like sports, but I watch the games for Cyrus, because he’s crazy about football.

The commentator loses his mind over the miraculous win. Billy is swarmed by his teammates and coach—the black-haired man disappears beneath a heap of bodies. He breaks free from their suffocating hugs and sprints toward the stands. He pulls his helmet off his head, his sweaty hair is plastered to his face. In the next moment, he fills the massive stadium screen, so everyone can see the kiss.

Daisy grins as she jumps into his arms. The muscles around my eyes tighten. The sight brings tears to my eyes—I look away and stare out the open window.

I don’t hold it against them. Even when I was only fifteen, I knew Billy had a bright future and a great career ahead of him, and Daisy… she was always drawn to the spotlight. They’re a perfect couple. I suspect their romance began to sprout after I disappeared.

A warm draft brushes my face and stirs the air in the room, heavy with the smell of pizza, donuts, popcorn, and beer—a cloying, oppressive thickness.

Sometimes I wish I could erase my memories—erase my past. I don’t want to be its prisoner. I don’t want to be the prisoner of Chase Baker, because summer is somehow saturated with him. The warm, heavy air, the familiar scents of the season, the bright sunlight, the sharp smell of hot asphalt… they all remind me of him. Even the sound of leaves stirring in the breeze takes me back to our first kiss. The kiss that was too perfect. From that moment on, Chase became part of me—a dark, lonely part I can’t cut away. No matter how hard I tried to deny my attraction to him, it was him I wanted, the one my eyes kept searching for. It was him I daydreamed about in my room, in the garden…

When I closed my eyes, I saw his broad shoulders and his chest. And the dangerous, dark eyes that looked at me as if I were a goddess. The deep, resonant voice that sent goosebumps racing over my skin. His familiar face, his chiseled chin. And what I was most crazy about—the light freckles on his nose, and his smile. He was cuter than any boy had a right to be.

And that boy grew up to be a handsome man, with a stronger body, sharper features, and eyes like a predator’s.

Also, I hate him.

Chase lied to me and abused me.

He kidnapped me and took my parents from me. I lost what I had a right to: being a kid, being a teenager, enjoying life, being happy.

This is something I’ll never forgive him for, because every day I think about what if my parents were still alive… how wonderful it would have been if I could have lost myself in the comfort of my mother’s arms after those five years…

The afternoon sunlight filtering through the window warms my face. From the corner of my eye, I see Cyrus smiling at me, as if he knew exactly what I’m thinking about.