Page 19 of A Light in the Darkness
I don’t think I can speak with his finger tracing my lips, so I don’t even bother trying, watching him as I wait to see where he’s going to take things. I teased him before I left the house, and I wouldn’tbe surprised if he’s coming to take what I didn’t expressly offer. Moose looks like the sort of man who is used to taking what he wants. But that thought doesn’t scare me. I want him to take what I’m not willing to give him. I want him to take my pride, to take my body and make it feel something other than this fucking misery I’ve lived with for the last few months.
I’ve caged myself in the skin of an innocent, putting on my best show to try and act like my life will ever be anything different than what it is under the surface. But I’m tired of trying with nothing to show for it. I’m tired of suffocating the fire inside of me so that I can pretend to be someone I’m not. Right now, Moose can feed my fire, give me what I need to burn. And I want him to.
As his thumb leaves my lips and skates along my jaw, I seize the opportunity to speak. “I don’t need to be understood. I need to be felt.”
His eyes darken at my words, like that’s an enticing promise. But I already know the promise is enticing. As much as he seems to hate me, Moose also seems to love fucking around with my head. Even if he isn’t sexually attracted to me, he wants to fuck me because he knows it will get him inside my head.
“There’s one thing I think I do know about you…” He says, his fingers slipping down to the top button of Austin’s shirt.
I suck in an eager breath, arching my back to make it easier on him, bringing the buttons closer to him. But he doesn’t free it, instead running his thumb in circles around the small thing. My eyes focus on his motions, so slow and easy, before they snap back to his eyes. I’m definitely wetter than I was before, and the look in his eyes tells me he’s fully aware of that despite the fact he isn’t touching me anywhere.
I can feel his cock though, pressed into my stomach. That makes no lies, no excuses or apologies as it seeks me of its own accord. He wants this as much as I do.
“What?” I gasp as he adjusts himself over me a little, the faintest brush of his jeans against my inner thigh.
He grins, amused with the effect he has on me. “No matter how much you may try to tell yourself otherwise,” His breath on my neck has my toes curling, and I close my eyes in anticipation. “You’re not the kind of girl who has casual sex.”
“You just told me you can’t figure me out.” I snap. “So, what makes you think you know I’m not into casual sex? I’d very much like for you to fuck me right now and I promise you, Moose, I don’t even like you.”
“The feeling is mutual, princess.” Moose laughs, freeing the top button of the shirt finally. He doesn’t tell me which feeling is mutual, but he doesn’t have to. It’s probably both of them, but only one of them is evident right now.
“I’ve heard hate sex is fun.” I say, watching as he undoes the second button without taking his eyes from mine. I watch the way his lip curls, amused at my suggestion, and I don’t take my eyes from him as he slips the third or fourth one free either. It’s as his palm skates across my now-exposed stomach that I break the connection, relaxing my head back onto the pillow and eagerly awaiting whatever he’s going to give me.
“Quite the pillow princess, I see.” He laughs. “You’re taking it literally.”
He’s trying to offend me with that, but I don’t think anything would offend me right now. He could probably slap me, and I’d say thank you because the touch would at least feed the fire dying to break free. “There are other uses for your mouth, Moose.” I tell him, my voice thick with lust as I adjust my cuffed wrist. His eyes are shining with what I’m assuming is amusement, but they darken again with my next words. “And mine.”
The little groan that comes from him is as much as I am going to get as he looks at me, my legs bared and tits barely covered by the open shirt. He could take me easily. He knows I wouldn’t fight him, and I’m laid out before him like an offering as his hand reaches up to caress my wrist, the handcuff trapping me there. “There are many things I would like to do to your mouth, princess.”
The words are whispered against my ear, and I don’t know if it’s the brush of his lips or the dirty words that makes the little whimper leave my tongue. I hear something as he fumbles with the cuff, and then the resistance disappears and my arm falls onto the bed like dead weight. “And it’s not just your mouth I would do dirty things to, Monroe. I want to do filthy things to your entire body. I want to break you because you look like you want to be broken.”
“Please.” I moan, the need between my legs growing with each new word. “I want that.”
“You want to be broken.” He laughs, pulling the shirt off of me like I’m a doll he’s been tasked with changing.
“Yes.” I plead.
“I know.” He agrees. “You want to be broken, and I want to break you.”
“So do it.” I beg. “Just fucking do it.”
He reaches for something from behind him, and I just see something black before he pulls it over my head. A blindfold? I don’t think I could fight him if I wanted to—and I don’t want to. My body feels like it’s made of lead, but his touch made me feel lighter. I want it back, but he doesn’t offer me anything more than the less than gentle scrape of his fingers as he pulls the fabric over my head, and I pop out on the other side.
A shirt, I realize, as he guides my arms into the holes without ever taking his eyes from me. They don’t stray, despite his words of having filthy ideas for what to do with my body. Instead, he covers me, tugging my shirt into place with a little bit of difficulty. “Moose,” I groan, the disappointment settling in. “What are you doing?”
He doesn’t grace me with an answer as he stands up and steps to the foot of the bed. His eyes flick to mine so that he can watch my face when he gives me a command. “Spread your legs.”
I do, just enough for him to slip my shorts onto my body and pull them in place, amused with his own wit or my disappointmentthat he’s not willing to take my bait. He secures the button for me and steps back to admire his handiwork. I wonder if it’s the first time he’s ever had to put a woman’s clothes on rather than take them off and feel strangely mournful. I also feel really tired.
He doesn’t bother putting on my shoes, so I don’t know if he grabbed them when he took the rest of my clothes from the side of the pool, or if he missed those. It doesn’t really matter either way, because I’m not walking out of here. He scoops me into his arms, wrapping one of mine around his neck, and tells me to hold on.
“Moose…” I say, though the word sounds strange on my tongue. He doesn’t look down at me, but I know he can hear me. “Do you hate me, too?”
I never hear what he says by way of answer. I’m not even sure the last words make it out into the air or die on my tongue, because it suddenly becomes too much, and I tuck my head into his chest, letting the darkness take me.
Chapter thirteen
Remy
