Page 404 of Rage

I hope she knows that means that I need to do this.

When her hands grip my shoulders and pull me closer to her until I’m practically drowning in her juices, I take it as a yes.

Alternating between stealing air, sucking at her tender flesh, and licking her with quick flicks of my tongue is enough to send her over the edge in minutes. She’s still trembling when I pick her up and position her on my lap while I take her place on the couch. I guide her entrance to meet my cock with my hands on her hips, but I don’t pull her down. I simply drag her back and forth over the tip, coating myself in the aftermath of her orgasm.

She keeps making the sexiest noises, and it takes everything in me to not bury myself in her immediately. Luckily, she seems to feel the same way because her hands slam down on my chest for leverage as she lines herself up and sinks down.

If there was any doubt that I shouldn’t have pursued this, it’s gone forever as of this union.

It’s the perfect fit, and when she starts moving on top of me, I can’t remember any moment in my life being so exquisite.

She moves with confidence, chasing another precipice, and I allow my hands to roam over her curves. Eventually, she leans forward on top of me, breathing heavily against my ear as I feel her tighten around me. I cradle her face and kiss her tenderly, telling her without words that she’s cared for and safe.

Our kiss deepens as her movements falter, and I know she’s close because I barely hold on myself. My hands find her hips again, and I take over the rhythm, except I’m tilting her so her clit grinds against my pelvis as I thrust inside of her. It’s just enough friction to have her nails scratching my chest and her moans breaking the silence throughout the room.

When I feel her walls spasm and she’s coming on my cock until it’s soaking the space where our bodies are joined, I allow myself to let go and join her.

The background checks make sure that we are tested and clean several times a month, and women must show proof of contraceptive use to participate. I get to spill myself in Mila, and it doesn’t matter that we’re in the darkness because the pleasure I feel would have blinded me regardless.

She collapses on my chest for a few minutes, and I gently stroke the skin of her back and leave kisses on the top of her head.

I wasn’t surprised when the tears came, wet against my skin. I knew why—the weight of her pain was something I understood all too well. So I held her, sheltering her from the storm within her memories.

After that, she pulled away abruptly and stood up, her breathing ragged. The loss I felt when I slipped out of her was like a punch to the gut. I wanted to speak to her but remained silent because I didn’t want to ruin the moment I had tried so hard to give her.

I love this woman. I want to heal her. And I’ll wait as long as it takes for her to let me in. I’ll be her light in the darkness, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

Mila rushed to the door on her side. The light turned on and filled the room before me, but not enough to light the area where I stood. She paused at the threshold and experienced some sort of panic attack.

I recognized the signs almost immediately.

She scratched at her arms, digging her nails into her skin as if trying to erase the past encounters that haunted her. The club lights were too harsh, reminding her of those men who’d taken what they wanted without a second thought. I resist the urge to pull her back into the darkness with me.

Rage burned in my chest as I watched her--this beautiful, broken woman. I want to smash something, to put a stop to the pain I saw reflected in her eyes. I knew it was the past playingtricks on her, those bastards who’d left their mark, and her ex-husband—that son of a bitch who’d made her feel unworthy of love.

I made a vow then and there. I’ll find those men, every last of them, and make them pay. They’d taken her innocence, her trust, and they’d pay with their lives. Especially that ex-husband of hers—he’d ruined her chance she had at a peaceful life, at happiness. He’d taken her trust and twisted it, even after she believed in him despite how she had been brought up and used. He took her for granted, and for that, he’d suffer.

Mila was strong; I already knew that. But seeing her like this, so raw and vulnerable, broke something inside me. I want to protect her, shield her from the world and its cruelties. I want to be her light in the darkness, to show her that not all men are like those who’d hurt her.

I am not the same.

But for now, I’ll keep my distance, respecting the boundaries she’d unknowingly set between us. I’ll bide my time, waiting for the right moment to show her that not all touches have to hurt, that not all memories have to be painful.

Because I love her, and in time, I know she’ll let me in.

I will help her move on—one body bag at a time.

I just need access to her files first.

Chapter Five

Mila

Iskipped the club next Wednesday, shaken by what had happened the week before. It wasn’t like me to avoid it, but something about that man in the dark room had unnerved me. So, I locked myself in my apartment, burying myself in my work and trying to forget about the unknown man who’d held me with such tenderness.

That weekend, I received flowers—red roses, a whole bouquet, with a single white rose that stood out, dipped in blood. Tied around the stem, was my ex husband’s wedding ring.

The card sent shivers down my soul, and my stomach twisted.

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