Every strum sparks an electric wave that threatens to crash over me as his hands roam from my breasts to my hips, mapping every plane of my body along the way, as if he’s furious he can’t touch all of me at once.
I know what he’s suffering, the need to have him penetrating deeper, harder. More violent. Pain is the only answer when what you crave is so elusive, you can’t physically grasp it.
My eyes drift open, and I catch sight of my hands circled around his neck. A fiery ember flickers beneath my skin, the lure to tighten my hold too seductive.
Alex watches me with a lurid mix of fear and awe. He bears down on the flare of my hips as he thrusts inside me, urging me to close my hands until I feel the rioting kick of his pulse against my fingers.
Some dark web of lust and wicked need grips me in a fit of madness, and I ride him hard, my movements salacious and wild, shamelessly abandoning any sense of morals and reservations. I can only see his pale-blue eyes, feel him hitting deep inside me—everything else falls away.
The raw emotion spiraling through me tears at reason until I feel the first peak of my climax. I cling to Alex, my hands strangling him to take life and fuse us together; just how I died on the cliff beneath him; I can’t stop until we reach that pinnacle together.
He slams into me, bucking from beneath to either bring me to orgasm or loosen my chokehold. But every fraught attempt drives the consuming throb in my core deeper.
“Oh, god… Alex… Please.”
I don’t know what I’m begging for, what I need—but as he ruts against me, taking me higher, I feel the rumble of his forced grunt against my palms and, when I look into his eyes, his features strained with demand for oxygen, I shatter.
My back arches as he sinks inside me. My inner walls contract to hold him within, and my whole body ignites in a final burst as the orgasm crests and drags me under. My hands fall away. I hear his gasp for air, and it sends an arousing current of pinpricks over my flesh.
“That’s it, goddess…take all of me.” Alex doesn’t relent. His forearm bands my lower back as he rises up, simultaneously crushing my hips to his. One hand braced behind him, he gains leverage to thrust inside me, rough and reckless, catching the fading wisp of my orgasm and fanning it.
My heart pounds at a dangerous rhythm. A sliver of fear slips beneath my rib cage, my chest wall threatening to crack. As my gaze locks with his, he understands; he senses my emotions firing out of control.
He runs a hand over my sweat-dampened hair, his mouth just touching my chin. “Don’t run away,” he says, “stay here. Let me take it for you.”
I can only nod, but it’s affirmation enough as Alex lifts me into his arms. He maneuverers me onto my back, then reaches off to the side. I close my eyes for a brief moment and breathe through the onslaught as I feel his body cover mine, then he shoves my hands above my head.
My eyes snap open as I feel the cool press of leather wrap my wrists.
Fear is a living force inside me. “Alex—”
He pulls the belt tight, binding my wrists together. Muscles aching, I struggle to bring my arms down between us, but he locks his hand around the knotted leather, trapping me against the stall.
Words fail as I stare into his eyes, a panicked quake rolling through my body to his. Alex pushes between my thighs, his hard cock settling right at the apex.
“I can’t do this—”
“Trust me,” he says, swallowing the remainder of my plea as his mouth seals over mine, stealing the last dregs of my breath.
As he enters me, he grips the belt tighter, the sharp edges biting into my skin, reminiscent of the cuffs he used to restrain me during his electroshock treatment. It was the first time in my life I ever felt a complete and helpless loss of control.
As he releases me from the kiss, he thrusts deeper, his guttural moan affecting me on a visceral level. Every plunge inside me decimates, every coarse pass of his body against mine delivers maddening friction.
“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he says against my ear. He locks his arm under my knee and positions me where he wants, in complete control, as he rails inside me. Relentless.
Alex fucks me until I’m coming undone, fighting against the belt, against the pleasure seizing my body—and the comfort I feel from being bound by him wrecks my sanity. But he keeps me tethered to him, not letting go.
“God-fucking-dammit…” He groans long and hard, his cock growing stiffer and ramming against my inner walls. “I want you to come. Right fucking now. Come on my cock, come with me—”
Back arched, I press against his chest as the orgasm takes hold, pouring through my veins like liquid fire as he rocks into me, thrusting hard once more to hold himself there until I feel the pulsating throb of his shaft as he comes.
He issues a torrent of curses as a hard tremor racks his body. He groans through his orgasm, pinning my body to his as he seals us closer, his mouth falling to my neck.
Feeling the intensity of Alex’s surrender as he releases wrecks me on a primeval level, cathartic and empowering all at once. A thrilling warmth infuses my bloodstream—and I try not to put a name to what I’m feeling…but the damage is already done.
No other emotion can compare.
I close my eyes against the realization, allowing only a few tears to slip down my scarred temples before I’m able to regain control of my senses.
After an intense stretch of silence, where I feel the last delicious shockwaves recede from my body, I bring my bound wrists down along his back. His chest heaves against mine, breaths heavy and spent, as our heartbeats sync to a slower rhythm.
If this is love, it’s the kind of love that makes you mad.
10
Aftershock
Blakely
The beat of the music drifting through the walls has slowed, the volume lower. The club is winding down. Reality is a sharp whip as it lashes at the remaining fragments of euphoria. As the figurative smoke clears, the destruction is evident, and my body acknowledges every bruise and scrape.
Physical aches and pain and, what I assume is the nauseating symptom of regret, urges me to move. I shove Alex aside and roll away from him. He reaches for me, but I push myself up into a sitting position, using my foot to force the leather belt over my hands.
Once free, I stretch for my tank top lying next to his head on the broken bathroom stall. The shirt is tattered and filthy. I ball it up and toss it aside.
“Next time, maybe we can actually do it in a bed,” he remarks.
“That won’t happen.” Resigned on my clothing options, I reach for Alex’s gray shirt and pull it over my head. His scent engulfs me, triggering a fresh ache between my breastbone.
I stand and clear the wreckage debris to locate my jeans, not wasting time to search for my panties. The creeper probably pocketed them, anyway.
He sits forward and grabs his shoulder with a groan. “Where are you going?”
I swipe my bag off the floor. “Somewhere…sane.” The fact my mother’s face springs to mind is alarming and proof I’m losing any rational grasp on reality.
“We still need to talk.”
Aggravation rushes out on a huff of breath. “Everything between us is done.”
As he climbs to his feet, I lower my gaze to the floor, dismissing the uncomfortable surge of heat at seeing Alex’s naked body, the clock on his leg a reminder of the danger we can’t escape with the distraction of sex.