Page 112 of Cruel Malady: A Necrosis of the Mind

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he says against my ear. He locks his arm under my knee and positions me where he wants, in complete control, as he rails inside me. Relentless.

Alex fucks me until I’m coming undone, fighting against the belt, against the pleasure seizing my body—and the comfort I feel from being bound by him wrecks my sanity. But he keeps me tethered to him, not letting go.

“God-fucking-dammit…” He groans long and hard, his cock growing stiffer and ramming against my inner walls. “I want you to come. Right fucking now. Come on my cock, come with me—”

Back arched, I press against his chest as the orgasm takes hold, pouring through my veins like liquid fire as he rocks into me, thrusting hard once more to hold himself there until I feel the pulsating throb of his shaft as he comes.

He issues a torrent of curses as a hard tremor racks his body. He groans through his orgasm, pinning my body to his as he seals us closer, his mouth falling to my neck.

Feeling the intensity of Alex’s surrender as he releases wrecks me on a primeval level, cathartic and empowering all at once. A thrilling warmth infuses my bloodstream—and I try not to put a name to what I’m feeling…but the damage is already done.

No other emotion can compare.

I close my eyes against the realization, allowing only a few tears to slip down my scarred temples before I’m able to regain control of my senses.

After an intense stretch of silence, where I feel the last delicious shockwaves recede from my body, I bring my bound wrists down along his back. His chest heaves against mine, breaths heavy and spent, as our heartbeats sync to a slower rhythm.

If this is love, it’s the kind of love that makes you mad.

34

AFTERSHOCK

BLAKELY

The beat of the music drifting through the walls has slowed, the volume lower. The club is winding down. Reality is a sharp whip as it lashes at the remaining fragments of euphoria. As the figurative smoke clears, the destruction is evident, and my body acknowledges every bruise and scrape.

Physical aches and pain and, what I assume is the nauseating symptom of regret, urges me to move. I shove Alex aside and roll away from him. He reaches for me, but I push myself up into a sitting position, using my foot to force the leather belt over my hands.

Once free, I stretch for my tank top lying next to his head on the broken bathroom stall. The shirt is tattered and filthy. I ball it up and toss it aside.

“Next time, maybe we can actually do it in a bed,” he remarks.

“That won’t happen.” Resigned on my clothing options, I reach for Alex’s gray shirt and pull it over my head. His scent engulfs me, triggering a fresh ache between my breastbone.

I stand and clear the wreckage debris to locate my jeans, not wasting time to search for my panties. The creeper probably pocketed them, anyway.

He sits forward and grabs his shoulder with a groan. “Where are you going?”

I swipe my bag off the floor. “Somewhere…sane.” The fact my mother’s face springs to mind is alarming and proof I’m losing any rational grasp on reality.

“We still need to talk.”

Aggravation rushes out on a huff of breath. “Everything between us is done.”

As he climbs to his feet, I lower my gaze to the floor, dismissing the uncomfortable surge of heat at seeing Alex’s naked body, the clock on his leg a reminder of the danger we can’t escape with the distraction of sex.

He steps into my path to barricade me from the door. “You can’t deny what just happened between us, what I know you felt—”

“The only thing that happened was the need to get my rocks off.” I glance around the bathroom floor. Finding his pants and white undershirt, I scoop both up and fling them at him.

He catches his clothes, the pant leg smacking his face, which gives me more gratification than it should.

As he slides his leg into the pants, careful of the enflamed skin around the watch, he says, “It’s not safe without me.”

I arch an eyebrow, any argument I could make unnecessary as I stare at his leg to make my point.

He’s the danger.

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