I looked down at her hands, one on my chest and one on the remnants of Parable, and I saw a fork in my future.
The chain had all the power to suck me back and keep me imprisoned. I could continue to be a toy for the ghosts inside this mansion and fight demons that would never die.
Or...or I could choose her.
I could finally admit that even though it would drive me insane in a different way, I wanted to be worthy of this girl.
Her.
I want her.
My stomach clenched as she sucked in a breath, sensing I’d reached a decision. The world fell away as I reached out and cupped her breast, running my thumb over her nipple.
She twitched as a noiseless moan escaped her.
I looked up.
I studied this girl who’d trespassed and made my life a living hell, and suddenly, it was all too much. Drawing my hand from her breast, over her throat, to her cheek, I pressed my palm against her softness.
Her eyes snapped closed as her entire body shivered. “You don’t have to hold yourself back with me,” she breathed. “I know...I know you want me.”
Dragging my thumb over her bottom lip, I forced words through a tight and gravelly throat. “But do you...want me?”
Her eyes flared, more gold than green, vibrant with lust. “If you are aware of who I am and where we are, then yes.” Her tongue touched my thumb with a sensuous lick. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you, even while I fought you.”
Pulling her to me, I smashed my mouth to hers.
She gasped in shock as I broke the seal of her lips, driving my tongue deep.
I wasn’t slow.
I wasn’t gentle.
I was hungry.
Fucking starving for things yesterday had given me, and today had wiped clean. I was jealous of myself. Furious that I’d had this girl, I’d come in her, we’d shared things I’d always craved, yet it was as if it never happened.
“You’re mine.” I kissed her rough and mean.
Chain or no chain, she would always be mine.
If I couldn’t remember, then I’d have to take her all over again. And again. I’d have to fuck her until I knew nothing else but her.
Wrapping my arms around her, I hauled her against my body, kissing her so damn deep. She wriggled, fighting for space, for air. Her hands landed on my chest.
I waited for her to push me away. To reveal she hadn’t wanted me, after all.
Instead, she tried to climb me.
A trigger had erupted in her too, sending her over the edge where I’d already fallen. “Kas. Yes—” Her head tipped left and right, her lips skating over mine, her tongue twisting deep as I kissed her. “Harder. Please? You can touch me as hard as you need.”
Harder?
That word wormed into my skull and obliterated everything else.
My arms bunched, locking her to me, holding her painfully tight as my hips thrust against hers. Our kiss turned manic. I kissed her with no mercy, taking advantage of her open, hungry mouth, capturing her tongue, her taste, and claiming every dark, wet piece of her.
She plastered herself against me, placing herself entirely into my control as our bodies writhed together. I shoved my thigh between her legs, pushing up her dress. She rode me. Her hand flew down and found my erection, stroking me through my jeans.
The kiss evolved from desperate to savage in one second flat.
All the pent-up fury, the forgetfulness, the ferocity gushed out of me, smashing like a tidal wave from my messed-up heart to hers.
Her left hand wrapped behind my neck, pulling me into her. Her right stroked harder, faster.
I needed inside her.
Now.
Grabbing handfuls of her ass, I yanked up and in. Her hand fell away as I ground my aching erection against her pussy, her dress spreading with her thighs.
She gasped.
I kissed her deeper.
She squirmed.
I thrust against her.
I consumed her body and soul. She kissed me as if she wasn’t just participating but imprinting me, making sure this moment couldn’t be stolen from her. Doing her best to make me remember. Hurting me all over again.
I’d done things to this woman. I’d promised things I couldn’t remember. I’d given her pieces of myself, and then I’d taken them away again.
I had the shitty existence of not knowing what those things were, but Gemma...she had it harder because she’d thought I was cured.
That she’d cured me.
Fuck, if only it was that easy.
“Kas—” Her legs hooked over my hips, grinding her core against my pulsing cock. “I need you inside me. Please.”
She set fire to every inch of my idiotic heart and greedy soul.
I wanted to be free with her. I wanted to indulge in things and take everything she had to offer, but most of all, I wanted to fucking remember those things after we’d finished.
Ripping my mouth from hers, I panted, “Make me a promise, Gemma Ashford.” Her head snapped up, lust-fogged eyes struggling to concentrate on mine. I kept her cradled in my arms even though my broken arm burned and my cock was seconds away from exploding. I had to make her vow. “Right here, right now, make me a promise.”
She swallowed, her lips swollen and face etched with need. “Anything.”
I bent and kissed her. Softly. Maddingly gentle. “Remind me.”
She sucked in a breath. “Of what?”
“Of everything.” I pulled her closer, my hips still rocking into hers. “Whatever I forget, remember for me. If I ask, tell me. If I don’t, understand it’s not because I’m running from knowing but because I’m not strong enough. I-I don’t know how long these symptoms will last. That damn book said it could take years...” My jaw clenched with denial, but I forced myself to finish. “I don’t expect you to record every little thing, but please...” I rocked against her heat, her incredible body. “Remember the important bits. Remind me to keep trying, even if it seems like I’m failing. Tell me how I treat you, how I speak to you—teach me to be the man you deserve, and I’ll do it. Help me to be better.”
She flinched, her eyes mirroring the sorrow that consumed me. She took a moment to reply, tears welling, making all the spaces inside me fill with haunted, harrowed things. Finally, she said firmly, almost coldly. “I promise.”
I kissed her.
She grabbed handfuls of my hair, holding on as my tongue dived deep and our kiss turned sharp and primitive. Both of us sealing the promise. Doing our best to convince ourselves that it would work.
It would keep me with her.
It would make me better.
“Take me, Kas,” Gemma moaned, our heads dancing, our tongues tangling, our breathing matching in haggard rhythm.
I stumbled to the side, my body rock fucking hard and no longer willing to tolerate not being inside her. Spinning around, I marched her to the wall.
Pre-cum rippled up my cock at the thought of taking her.
Urgency made me jerky and mean.
This would be quick and vicious. Whatever softness I might or might not have given last night was gone. Today, I was nothing but brutality.
She wanted it hard.
So did I.
I wanted bruises.
I wanted marks.
I wanted my body to be covered in mementos of what happened here so I would remember.
I will.
She cried out as her spine hit the wall. Ivy leaves scattered around us, landing in her hair as we crashed against the vines. I waited for her to tell me to stop even as my hands grabbed the hem of her dress, ripping it up her legs to bunch it at her waist.