Page 62 of Shattered
He buried his masked face into my neck, like he wished he could bite me and kiss me and force himself upon me. Then he shoved me down onto the bed. Knocked over the paints. Frustrated, he growled, gripping my neck with his hands, squeezing me. I thrust my hips forward and he leaned his body into me. The coat got in his way and he ripped it off, taking one of his gloves with it, his skin illuminated like a light in the darkness. He caught me staring and he grabbed my face with that bare hand.
“Don’t say a word,” he howled. I nodded, my lips quivering.
He pulled my hair, the ache familiar and fulfilling, then he yanked the clothes off of my body, rendering me naked and bare and beneath him. I looked up. He pulled off his other glove and grabbed my throat in his hands, his bare hands, his fingertips grazing each muscle in my neck, gently stroking it. And then he squeezed with one hand, using the other to touch me. His warm hands. His long sinewy fingers. Strength and rawness in every point of contact, my nerve endings endlessly awake, screaming for more. The touch of him. This moment of something more than the mask. That he didn’t care that I felt and saw the real him. This single bare piece of skin.
He unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, and when I picked up my head to look at him, he thrust my jaw to the side, not letting me see as he entered me. His cock was thick, stretching me out, but the pleasure of this penetration wasn’t like before. Nothing else mattered at that moment, only what he did to me.
“This is what you do to me,” he grunted. “I wasn’t supposed to be here tonight. I wasn’t supposed to ever want you. But I do, Melissa. I fucking do and I’m not going to fight it anymore.”
“I don’t want you to,” I cried.
“Good.” He rammed himself into me with such force that my entire body shook. Tears fell from my eyes from sheer bliss of the brush of his body on mine. The space of his skin above his cock, his hands actually on me. Therealhim. Because he saw the real me and he didn’t look away. He didn’t ask me to be someone else. Our love was a black hole that absorbed all of the light and life along with it, death and endlessness and the lack of a future, all of it consumed because nothing else mattered. Nothing but us.
His pressure mounted, and he pinched my nose and mouth shut as he bucked harder. Pleasure surged through me but for a moment, I thought of Garrett. Holding my nostrils closed as he shoved his cock down my throat. But Rourke had done this before too. He had fingered me like this. So why did I think of Garrett? Was the betrayal so strong in my mind that I thought of him now, at the exact moment of our orgasm?
Right as we climaxed, a primal cry mixed with the moan of a conquering warrior ripped through the voice changer, sounding more human than machine, and I forgot about that. I clenched around him, not wanting him to leave, not wanting this to end, but wanting to take every last drop of his come inside of me. Each twitch of his cock was mine.Ihad done that to him. I could break down his defenses. I could unpeel the mask that surrounded him. I could unveil the true Rourke.
Once we both stilled, he pulled something from his pocket and fixed it over my eyes: a blindfold. I could see through the bottom, but again I closed my eyes, wanting to respect his wishes. The clicking sound of sweaty skin lifting from leather, the harsh, erratic breath from his lips, winding down, coming back to earth again. Exhausted, he laid against me, the scruff of his beard against my cheek, the roughness comforting. Another piece of his true self given to me.
One day he would let me see him. The real him. But for now, I would enjoy this.
“One day, will you trust me too?” I asked. He rolled to the side, easing the pressure of his body off of mine, and pulled me into his arms. Moments passed, and exhaustion began washing over me, heavier now, the protective barrier of his arms around me eased my mind into relaxation. I squeezed his arm, and his lips touched my shoulder. Soft. Tickling me. I shivered and yawned, settling into his arms. Then sleep carried me off into the void, to dream of him.
