Page 11 of Risky Fight

The roughness of our kiss contradicts the sweet sounds she makes when I grab her ass in my hand and grind my hardness against her so she can feel what her sweet sinful mouth has done to me.

As the kiss finally breaks, we’re both left breathless and craving more. Lou looks at me, her eyes now filled with a mix of surrender and acceptance. “You’re right, Roark,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the city. “I’m yours. But I still fucking hate you.”

In that moment, I know I’ve got my hands full, Lou might come home with me — but she will never roll over and give in to me without making me pay for my sins.

Chapter7 - Lou

In a daze from Roark’s possessive fucking madly hot kiss, I find myself unable to resist his demand. I want to kick and scream and fight, but inside I know I can’t win. So why bother? He is the one person who could disarm me, who could calm the chaos. Now he’s back and I am powerless to do anything about this.

His words echo in my mind as I simply nod, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. Roark kissed me like he owns me, taking — taking all of me not giving me anything at all. Claiming me physically, so I would know better than to fight anymore.

He takes my wrist firmly, his grip sending shivers down my spine, but I don’t pull away. I’m turned on by how rough he is, I should be afraid of not wanting to fuck him. There is something fundamentally wrong with me when it comes to this man, there always has been. The thrill of the dangerous situation combined with the intoxicating passion we just shared has left me flustered and utterly stupid. He knew using sex would make me useless — it was the way he would control me back before he left.

We climb down the fire escape together, my legs wobble with every step. The run, and the fact my bare feet are bloody and sore and scuffed raw makes it harder than it should be. I can feel Roark’s presence behind me, guiding and controlling the pace. His handcuff grip on my wrist keeps me close, preventing any attempt to escape. It’s hurting me, but it’s a touch I can’t deny I’m secretly thrilled and excited by. Life has been boring lately — this is far from the bland existence I have gotten used to.

As we reach the ground, I catch sight of his SUV parked in front of my building. It’s the same one I saw outside the pub, and which drove by. I’m not insane, he has been watching me, like a stalker. The streetlights cast a soft glow on its dark exterior, and the thought of being taken away by this incredibly strong, dangerous man sends both fear and desire coursing through me. Him being a threat only makes me lust after him more, that thrill is addictive. I hesitate for a moment, my mind grappling with the situation. He yanks at my arm pulling me forward, so I almost stumble over my own feet.

There is a smoldering intensity in Roark’s gaze when he says, “Get in the fucking car Lou, I am not going to be as nice if I have to chase you again.” It is all I need to surrender to his will. The way he can brainwash me with his words, making me forget that this is a crime not a date.

Without a word, I slide into the passenger seat, soft suede leather hugs my almost naked body. It smells new — and clean. I am a dirty, half-naked mess. I don’t belong in a million-dollar car. Feeling a mixture of vulnerability and embarrassment I try to cover myself. Aware now of what I look like, and that in the light of the car he will see me this way. As he shuts his door, the noise of them locking makes me jump.

The engine roars to life, drowning out the sound of my pounding heart. Before he pulls into the road, he adjusts his mirrors, and looks at me, his eyes scanning down my body. He gets this sinister smirk on his face, and then he puts his hand on my thigh. Right near the top, where his fingers can brush over the scrap of fabric covering my pussy. Roark’s hand softly teases me as he drives, a silent reminder of his possession over me. I hate myself for not pulling away, that I won’t shove his hand off me. His touch is like finally getting something you’ve craved and it’s even better than you imagined. I curse my brain for being a thirsty fucking traitor.

In the quiet of the car, my mind races with thoughts of what’s going to happen now. Where are we going? The road we take is headed out of the city and away from home — to the posh end of town. Private schools and gated communities. There’s no place for thugs like us out here, what is he doing? There’s an undeniable magnetism between us, but when the landscape changes from urban to rural, I think he might have come back to kill me.

He’s not said a single word since we got into the car, not even a threat. Just his hand on me, touching me then stopping — edging me on and making me sex-dumb and horny. There are lights in the distance, and all around us is farmland. The clock on the dash says we have driven for almost an hour; the commute to work must be a bitch for him in the traffic, I think to myself.

We pull up on a gravel driveway, miles from anywhere and anyone. Arriving at Roark’s country estate? The isolation of the place sends a shiver down my spine. It’s as if I am inside one of those horror movies where the foolish girl always runs the wrong way — and I am her.

The grand home stands majestic, surrounded by vast landscapes, far away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Shrouded by the darkness, I am sure it is spectacular during the day. Roark finally lists his hand to exit the vehicle, but he walks around to my door to help me out. Help me? More like regain possession. There’s an historical charm to the estate with its elegant architecture, yet inside the modern touches hint at Roark’s wealth and sophistication. He has done well for himself, I know he was paid well for being the best at what he does.

Roark leads me further inside, and I can’t help but marvel at the opulence of the interior. The soft glow of the chandeliers bathes the rooms in warm light, making me feel both intrigued and slightly uneasy.

“There is no point looking for an escape, Lou,” he warns me not to run, “there are no neighbors, and if you tried to run, you’d get lost in the woods.” His words hold an air of mystery and threat, making me wonder what secrets he keeps hidden in this remote place. This isn’t where I ever imagined him living, it’s so unlike him.

The electricity of the chemistry between us crackles in the air, making my heart race and my skin tingle with anticipation. My cheeks are red, and warm each time his gaze lands on me. I am unable to control how my body reacts to his attention. I feel the pull between us, a magnetic force I can’t resist even if I wanted to. There’s a primal connection, like two souls drawn together by desire and fate. He has been gone so long, yet it feels like he never left now that he is here with me. The familiarity of the bond we share is comforting even if I am here against my will.

“Why do you live all the way out here? How long have you been back, stalking me like a fucking weirdo?” I find myself asking, my curiosity getting the better of me. “What are you hiding?” This is a hiding kind of house, like he doesn’t want anyone to know where he might be.

Roark’s eyes lock onto mine, his expression unreadable yet filled with intensity. “I enjoy my privacy,” he replies, his voice low and tinged with a hint of mystery. It’s a lie, I can see the twitch in his eye, and the way his lip pulls up on one side. “And I like to be far away from the noise of the city. It gives me space to think, to be myself.”

“Liar, liar, your cock will catch on fire. You hate the country, and you live for the buzz of the city. You’re hiding away.” From what? Or who?

“I am not hiding, I am protecting something very important. It’s too valuable to have out in the open or in the city,” he says with a straight face, and this time it’s only a half a lie. He is being vague on purpose, but I believe him.

His answer only adds to the enigma surrounding his return, and I know there’s so much more to Roark being back than meets the eye. He isn’t here just for me — this is bigger than him protecting the debt he is owed by my brothers. He wouldn’t have come back otherwise, he had everything he ever dreamed of. Living the rich and famous life of a professional sportsman, who would give it up for no reason? Not the Roark I knew, he’d not bow out of anything gracefully.

As we stand there, the sexual tension between us becomes palpable. The taste of the rooftop kiss still lingers on my lips, my knickers are soaked from him teasing me in the car.

I can sense Roark feels it too, the way he looks at me with hunger and desire. I’m practically naked, my nipples react to the desire that’s only building more. He sees the way my body says what I won’t allow my mouth to utter, and it makes him smile. “Come with me,” he growls out, his husky deep voice fills the empty cavernous house. Pulling me along behind him, Roark drags me down a long passage towards the back of the house. It’s eerily quiet, and I wonder if he lives here alone with no staff?

There must be security. It doesn’t make sense a celebrity like him isn’t frolicking about without a bodyguard. I’m sure they’re here in the shadows, somewhere. He shoves open giant double doors, and drags me into an enormous bedroom, all decorated in shades of grey and blue. It’s elegant but manly, it smells like him, this is his room.

I turn myself around in a little circle taking in the grand scale of the place — my whole home could fit in just this room. “The bathroom is through there,” he points to an open archway, “you can shower and I will get you something to put on. And I will help you take care of your feet, I don’t want you getting an infection. They look pretty bad.”

He acts like he cares that I am hurt — this is his fault. He chased me through the streets in the dead of night, hunting me down until he caught me.

Frowning at him, my stubbornness returns and I fold my arms, about to challenge him. Before I can, he lifts me off my feet, over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold and carries me into the bathroom.

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