Page 16 of His Gift
"How dare you!" I roar. Since I can't use my arms or legs, I use my mouth. I sink my teeth into his biceps, biting harder and harder until he bleeds. But he doesn't let go. He barely even flinches. Fucker.
"Let me go!" I might have been the obedient daughter and the meek wife, but in my head I've always sworn like a sailor. And now I unleash it all on him—every offense I know, absurd as it may be. When I run out, I start over, mixing in threats of sending him to jail and murdering him.
He stays silent for a long time, then he says the last thing I'd ever imagined him saying. "Get it all out, sweet girl, I can take it. I can take it all away. Just unload it on me." I choke on my last "Asshole" and can't get out another word. I don't want to cry. I don't. But the fucker just can't quit. "I'm here for you, no matter how bad it gets."
He did it. I start bawling, all the fight wiped from me. I can't even remember the last time I cried that hard. Maybe never. It's like being ripped apart, except he's keeping me together. Conrad picks me up, never lettingme go, and brings me back to his room. He shushes me all the way there, not to shut me up, just to calm me down.
Still holding me, he fills the tub and gently immerses us both in the steaming, scented water, fully clothed.
Surrounded by his body and the hot water, I feel like I'm safe. But I'm not. He's not safe.
"I want to go home," I hiccup.
"Let's talk, and if you still want to go home, I'll let you go."
"No."
He breathes heavily and drags me closer. I'm not bolting again. I have no energy left, and I'm still crying my eyes out. But I can't silence my mind, and it's a battle like no other to keep certain thoughts at bay.
"Please." I could be pleading to go home, or for any number of reasons, but he knows exactly what I'm pleading for. Turning my body to face him, he grabs my chin and kisses me lightly. His tongue swipes over my lips in gentle, coaxing licks, and I open up for him. But my brain is still racing.
"Eyes on me." I look at him through my tears, and he smiles sadly. "I need to feel your skin on mine." The second I nod, he yanks our clothes off, creating a watery mess he doesn't appear to care about. "I need to touch you."
"Ugh, knock it off. We both know it's me who needs it," I retort between hiccups.
"You couldn't be more wrong. That I can remember, I've never needed anyone, but I need you. And to be honest, it's quite scary." The sincerity on his face is undeniable. The more I learn about this man, the more enigmatic he becomes.
"Yes, please. Touch me." Are we still kidnapper and victim? I'm not sure. But it loses importance when his hands run all over me, soothing the tears, loosening my muscles and stoking back the fire. Did I really bite him? Yeah, I guess I really did.
"I'm sorry for your arm."
There's no answer except a small, playful bite on my neck.
"Let me turn around." He stops all movement and allows me to settle on top of him, positioning myself just above his erection.
"Do you want to fuck me, my gift?"
"Yes." Not a doubt in my mind.
I take him to the hilt and the moan that I rip from his chest makes my hips buckle.
"Then fuck me. Use me for your pleasure. Make me lose my mind. I have just one condition: I want to kiss you the whole time. Your moans belong to me." His hands cup my face and I move closer, gazing into his dark eyes. I have no clue if I'll ever understand him, but when our lips meet and his tongue strokes mine, I brace on his shoulders and start moving.
And he keeps kissing me, his moans mixing with mine, our tongues making love at a slow pace. I don't understand myself. I don't know what'shappening, but he caresses my skin, soothes my still-flowing tears and lets me fuck him. At my pace, without trying to control the outcome. And when my movements become more frenzied, he leaves my mouth to take care of my breasts, stroking the sensitive skin and teasing my stiffened nipples. And as the orgasm hits me, a huge wave of pleasure ripping through my body, he collects my juices and pushes his finger inside my ass, adding an additional layer of sensation that propels me into pure ecstasy.
Then he's back to kissing me, gently, while I ride the most intense orgasm I've ever experienced.
"You didn't come," I whisper, completely out of breath.
"It's not important now. Relax. Stay here. Let me hold you."
I'm not going to argue. He gave me what my body desperately needed and even my mind is quieter now. And since he never came, he's still solid inside me, his flesh connecting us like two parts of the same puzzle.
"Harper, you have a story to tell me."
"Why?" His insistence makes no sense, even less than everything else he's done.
"Because it's buzzing inside your mind and won't stay quiet for long."
