Page 51 of Vallaverse: Twist
Once, years ago, an Alpha tried to take me from Kris. At the time, I thought what happened was because she cared about me and wanted to protect me. Alphas don't become as feral as Valla, but Kris went a little crazy and killed the other Alpha with her bare hands. Well, she had a broken wine bottle, but that's not the point. The point is that afterward she hovered over me. Literally and physically. It took more than a few minutes for her to calm down and collect herself. Brooks is going to be much, much worse. And he said himself that he's still angry with me for everything. The thought of what could happen makes my heart slam in my chest.
What will he need? Do I even want to find out? I should run now, every bit as fast as I would have run from the Alpha he is no doubt in the process of slaughtering. I need to go before he starts looking for me. Can I make it if I jump from the window? Maybe if I dangle over the edge and kind of drop down...
Brooks roars again. It's more of a stuttering, drawn-out growl, but it still makes my skin crawl. Then the short-lived screamingstarts, and I cover my ears. I've been through and seen lots of ugly things, but whatever is happening downstairs is surpassing ugly.
Seconds turn into minutes before steps sound on the stairs. Brooks twists the knob so hard that the lock may as well not exist. He snarls when he discovers his path is blocked by heavy bedroom furniture, and he tips the dresser onto its side and steps into the room and around the bed. The closet door is torn open, and then a low growl fills the strained quiet in the room when he doesn't find me inside.
Panic sizzles through our bond and I realize the choice I need to make. Hiding from Brooks will prolong whatever is about to happen and possibly make it so much worse. I take a breath to steel myself for whatever comes next and slowly rise up from behind the chair.
Strained worry and pure possession are deeply etched into his expression when he turns sharply and starts moving aggressively toward me. It's only a few feet, but it gives me time to really look at him—to really feel him. Worry is a poor word to describe the unfiltered terror pouring from him.
“No one,” he snarls as his hand snaps out to wrap around the back of my neck and he hauls me against his chest. “No one will take you from me.” He bends down to bury his nose into the crook of my neck. “No one.”
Before I can respond or do anything to try to diffuse his wildly arcing emotions, he drops to his knees, dragging me with him. Then there isn't any time to do anything. There is no option other than accepting what he needs. I can fight against it. My sense of self-preservation is screaming at me to fight. But fighting will only add more fuel to the fire consuming him.
So, I do what I've done so many times before when confronted with something that will hurt me if I let it. I become soft. I slow my breaths. I relax my muscles. I don't exactly force my limbsto go limp, but I allow my body to be moved and positioned however he needs it to be. If Brooks needs to do things that might hurt me to come back to me, I can endure it. I can endure it for him.
He shoves me onto my back and pushes my knees to either side. I let him. I remain soft.
He falls forward, planting his hands on either side of my head, using his weight to pin me to the floor as his hips press against me. I don't push against him. I don't yell. I stay soft and yielding.
“Mine.” He leans down, letting his hot breath fan my cheeks, and snarls into my face. “Mine.”
I start to nod, but he rises back up onto his knees quickly and grabs the collar of my shirt with both hands. The soft fabric gives way easily, making an almost wet sound as it rips down the middle, exposing my chest and stomach to his dark gaze. Worry and possession transform into burning rage as his eyes move from one scar to the next.
He knows what they are. I can feel every drop of anger as it rolls through him.
Fear again claws at me. I have been careful to keep the marks covered. The scars left from removing the unwanted marks are bigger than the actual bite marks ever were, but they are a clear and visible reminder of what I allowed to happen to me. Kris sold every inch of me to her clients. She sold those bites. And I let her do it.
Brooks isn't fully aware of himself right now, but he doesn't miss a single scar in the dim light from the lamp. His growl grows louder by the second as his eyes move from scar to scar until my skin prickles under the scrutiny. His gaze settles on his own mark on my shoulder, and he bends again to lick across it.
Despite the emotional turmoil, the moment his tongue passes over his mark, my eyes roll back and unexpected heat explodes inside me. I've felt want and need in the time we've beenspending together in the evenings, but it wasn't anything like the fire spreading through me now. His tongue swirls, and his lips fasten around his mark, and I suck in a breath as slick drips between my thighs, and every other thought leaves my head.
Brooks's unyielding body keeps me caged underneath him as his hot mouth works the mark. He isn't holding me down, but I'm not silly enough to think he'd let me move away from him, not that I'd want to at this point.
The thin material stretched between our bodies does little to contain how hard he is, and even less to suppress how wet I'm becoming. His growl slows, becoming deeper as my aroused scent takes over the air surrounding us. With one last searing lick, he raises up onto his knees and reaches for the elastic waist of my pants; his gaze hard, daring me to stop him.
I spread my legs wider. It doesn't help him get the pants over my hips and down my legs because satin doesn't have much give, but it's not really a choice right now. All I want is to give in to Brooks. I want to be open for him. I want to be soft for him. All I want is to be his, and only his.
The pants are an issue, though. They are an unacceptable barrier that brings the snarl back to his lips. I plant my feet on the floor and lift my hips, making it easy for him to pull them off. My aching length springs free as he jerks the material away, bouncing up and slapping my stomach.
Brooks's stuttering growl turns into a steady purr, and he leans down to wrap his fingers around me, causing me to gasp and arch into his touch. He grips me tightly, stroking slowly, and it's almost overwhelming. I reach down to grasp his wrist, not to stop him, but I need an anchor, or I might fly away with all the sensory input. I can feel everything so much more. I don't know if it's because of the lack of attention I've had, or because of the intensity of the situation and the intensity of everything flowingthrough our bond, or because I just want thisso much, but I feel like I'm coming undone.
His touch is rough and quick, taking my breath. Any other time, Brooks would be gentle. He'd spend time building this. He'd wind me up so tightly that I'd be begging him to finish it. But now isn't the time for that. Right now he just needs to feel me,completely. He needs the physical confirmation that I am still here, still okay, still his, and he isn't capable of the patience required to build.
If I wasn't a twisted, broken thing, this would be different. It might actually hurt me, but I know myself. I'm soaked. His rough treatment and aggressive possession just fuels the flame begging to roar inside me.
His other hand slides down to test my opening, and he purrs louder when he finds me wet and willing. He releases my dick and the sudden absence of touch almost hurts, but then I feel him pressing a fingertip inside me, and I forget about it. He sinks deep, adding another finger, and I groan as I come up onto my elbows so I can watch him.
He shoves his own pants down, and I only get a quick moment to see him exposed and leaking before he pushes me back, looming over me.
His eyes are hard, his jaw set. This is it. He's going to fuck me, and he may not even fully remember doing it because he's still so wild with the need to protect and keep me. One of his hands wraps around the back of my thigh, pushing and pinning my leg back, his other hand simultaneously sliding between us to line himself up.
He's going to regret this. He's going to be so sad when he calms down and comes back to himself and realizes that the first time he fucked me, he did it angry, with blood all over him. He's going to get mad all over again when he sees the traces of the dead Alpha's blood staining our clothes and marring my skin. He'sgoing to regret this so much, but there's nothing I can do right now to change it.
His hips surge forward, his thick head stretching me open as he pierces me.Fuck, it does hurt. It burns. It's been so long since… My teeth grind against each other as my jaw clenches.Fuck.
He pulls back, keeping the head inside, and wraps both his hands around my thighs, using his weight to keep them spread wide. His eyes are trained on our joining, grunting as he thrusts back inside me. I can feel the change in him coming, but it's coming too slowly to make this more gentle. His hips snap as he fucks me, making that thick slapping sound with each impact.
