Page 17 of Absolution

I don’t say anything. But I don’t back away either. Eyes, so familiar, and yet so foreign, dart between mine as he moves closer. Our gazes are still locked as his lips touch my mouth, softly, not intrusively. He feels the same… and still not.

A gun to my head. Cold, unyielding metal.

“Kiss me back… Please.”

His face is a blur and my mind spins. The plea is such a soft whisper and his breath is warm on my mouth.The scent I know so well invades my every pore, fills my nostrils, and assaults my senses. He smells so good. Soapy. Musky. Familiar. I lick my lips and accidentally touch his. Jerking slightly when his hands leave mine and come to rest at the back of my head, I inhale, my heart stuttering.He pulls me to him more forcefully until there’s no return, no backing away. Pressing his mouth to mine, he separates my lips with the tip of his tongue. I gasp and my mind spins faster and faster. He feels good. He is warm, tender, vulnerable, somehow safe, and yet so terrifyingly dangerous. How did we end up here? My brain refuses to stop the increasing whirl of panicked thoughts and memories. I see him now, I see him then, I see him as a twisted image from too many dreams.

“Oh my God, come, babe,” he groans against my lips and puts his hands on my hips, pulling me to him until I straddle his lap. He cups my ass and pulls me even closer, chest to chest. He’s getting hard, pushing against my sensitive core. I have only soft pants on and they feel like no material at all as he slowly rocks back and forth. His hands wander along my back, one hand finding my nape, tightening the grip, his other sliding along the gap between my shirt and the waistband of my pants.

“Kerry,” he mumbles as he makes me breathless when his fingers meet the naked skin on my back, “I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

I don’t know what to do with my own hands, they lie passive on my thighs until I softly put them on his shoulders, careful to avoid his wound. The shudder that runs through him at my touch awakens something in me, a memory of when this felt real, when I thought he was someone not… him.

His hand wanders under my shirt, up to between my shoulder blades, then slowly slides to the side, his thumb brushing the side of my breast. I arch up in sudden, surprising need for him to really touch me.

Christian no doubt feels my sharp intake of air and how I squirm against his rock-hard bulge. Cupping my breast, he finds my nipple, pinching it, making me gasp as he keeps devouring my mouth, stealing every last bit of air along with my sanity.

He kneads my breast as his other hand travels along my back and slides inside my pants. I ache and tingle everywhere, swell, my pussy cries for his touch and it’s insane, because it’s not right. I try to remember who he is, what he’s done, but when he finds my soaked slit my brain turns to mush. I bite down on his lip when he thrusts his fingers inside me, not gentle, nothing with this man is gentle.

A flash of a memory rips through me. Dark. Fear. Then he circles my clit, making me cry out. My thighs shake and I gasp when he suddenly twists us, pulling me under him, his fingers stabbing in and out, taking, taking, taking. It hurts a little, and at the same time it starts a furnace deep inside. He lodges himself between my thighs, pushing his thick bulge against my clit, rocking back and forth, teasing me, making me unable to breathe.

In a couple of desperate, jerky moves, he pulls up the front of my shirt, abandons my mouth and latches on to my nipple, licking, flicking, grazing it with his teeth.

“You’re mine, Kerry,” he growls. “You’ve always been mine. You said it once. You admitted it. I’m never letting you go now.”

Salty air on my face. Deaf to my pleas for my life.

My heart speeds up almost impossibly. My body hums, responding to his touch, to the fear and the pleasure, to the beast who claims his woman.

Me.

I moan, I try to speak, but cry out when he bites down on my other nipple, as his thrusting increases.

My flesh screams that it’s good, that it’s right, while my mind tries to dig up my sanity from the depths of my soul.

“This has gotta go,” he rumbles and starts pulling down my pants along my thighs.

He throws me to the ground. Rough hands around my throat.

When they’re past my knees, he makes quick work, pulling up one of my legs as he sits up a little, looking me over. I stare at him, my insides ice cold and scorching hot at the same time. His dark hair partly covers his eyes. In the dim light there’s something demon like over him, making my chest clench. I remember how he tied me up, spanked me until I cried.

“Say you want me, Kerry. Tell me you’ve longed for me as much as I’ve longed for you.”

I have. I have longed for him and feared him more than death, and here we are again.

Death. He’s death.

I see someone he’s not. I see a man where there’s nothing but a cruel monster.

With one hand he begins to pull down his zipper as he leans in and catches my lips again. My heart speeds up, slams in my chest, making me dizzy. I moan into his mouth and push at him until he lets me loose. He gasps, his lips full, newly kissed. I try to control my racing heart.

“I—I’m sorry,” I hiccup, unable to meet his gaze. “I don’t—I…”

I try to get up, but he grabs my wrists and keeps me down. It sends yet another surge of panic through me.

Pain. So much pain. His eyes cold and without mercy.

“Ker? Hey… look at me.” Gripping my chin, he forces me to face him.

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