Page 103 of Truck Stop Tempest

The room was quiet, the urgency a deafening, primal roar. I released her arms and reached behind my waist to unhook her legs.

She fought me, and damn if my rock-hard cock didn’t do a painful happy dance. I broke the kiss and gripped her warm cheeks, holding her face a hairsbreadth from mine. “I need those pants off. Now.”

“No. Not here. We—”

“Off. Now.”

It took her all of two seconds to kick off the shoes and wiggle out of her khakis. Two heartbeats more, and she’d freed my cock, gripped it with her small fingers, and started slow and steady, stroking away the ache.

Her cheeks blazed a brilliant shade of red. “We don’t have much time.”

No, we did not, especially with her hands on my dick. I grabbed her thighs and hoisted her to my waist. When she gripped my shoulders, locked those creamy legs around my ass, and skin met skin, my control slipped, and I shoved into her with one hard thrust, sinking deep.

Fuck, she was so goddamn light in my arms. I hated that she trusted me when I was so dangerous, but fuck, I loved that she gave herself so freely, so carelessly.

All I wanted, all I needed, was pinned, half-naked, between me and the wall. Sweet hell, how I wanted to love her, and protect her, and trust her with every one of my broken pieces. I slipped into my dark place and lacking the strength to fight him off, let the monster free. With each roll of my hips, I gave her everything. All my hurt, all my pain, every fucking regret, every God-forsaken, soiled, dirty piece of my past.

“Why do you want me? I’m gonna destroy you. Like everything in my life, I’ll ruin you.”

Ruin me. Destroy me. Tear me to shreds. Bring it on.

Yes, he held my heart in his powerful fist. Yes, he had the power to crush that tiny organ to dust. Didn’t matter. Because I knew every time I shattered, he would collect all the pieces and put me back together.

My back slammed against the brick, again and again. His thrusts were violent, breaths ragged, words filthy.

We were not making love. Not even close. Tito was purging. Hurting. He was angry and raw, and I was merely the punching bag absorbing his blows.

I didn’t cry out. I didn’t stop him. I hated his pain, but I loved that he used me to purge. My back burned, but I wanted more. I wanted all his unbridled, honest emotion.

Strong fingers dug into my ass. I bit my lip to silence the scream. He slapped the wall above my head with his free hand before gripping the hair at my nape and pulling, forcing my head back, exposing my neck. He buried his face there, his breaths a thunderous roar in my ear.

His body tensed, then trembled, and with brutal thrusts he came, crushing me with his hips, clinging to me like I was his last tether to Earth. He breathed, and squeezed, and vibrated against me.

It was then I noticed the bruises. The cut lip. The dark circles under his eyes.

His unshaved mug, hot and scratchy, was a balm beneath my fingertips. I held him face-to-face, asking without words, what just happened?

I’d never seen eyes so dark and hollow. The Tito I knew wasn’t the man staring back at me. I traced the deep lines across his forehead. He gave nothing.

“Tito.” I kissed the corner of his mouth. “Come back to me, please.”

He blinked, jaw muscles working under my hands. “Did I hurt you?” He dropped me like I’d scorched him, then held me at arms’ length, stormy eyes inspecting me.

I shook my head.

“Fuck. Fuck!” Tito turned his back, yanking his jeans over his ass, then grabbed a wad of paper towels. He cleaned between my legs with gentle strokes and trembling hands, then helped me step into my clothes while I steadied myself on his shoulders.

So many questions. So many things I wanted to say. The words gathered so fast, they clogged my throat before making their exit.

“Tuuli…” He backed away, gaze dropping to the ground. “I—”

“What happened?” I interrupted, grabbing his wrists to halt his retreat. “Where’d you go just now?”

Agony shaded his features, tearing my guts out. “I never should’ve come here. Not when my head is such a mess.”

“Don’t say that. Please. You can always come to me.”

“You weren’t safe.” He dragged swollen hands through his hair. “Fuck. I could’ve hurt you.”

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