Unraveled: Chapter 7

I’ve never known pain like this. My heart pounds with shards of glass burrowed deep within, his touch a reminder of how deep it cuts. But the flames—it’s scalding, incinerating the last ounce of defiance I have. The agony is relentless, each breath unbearable while I feel him along my every curve.

I can’t escape it. I can’t run from him. He has me trapped, and I don’t have the strength to fight him. I don’t want to fight him. I want to surrender, give in, and forget that I have a heart that’s been bleeding for days.

If I had one wish, just one, it would be to have the strength to forgive him, because the thought of not being able to is killing me slowly, sucking the life out of me like a parasite.

I lick my lips, my palms flush against the cold wall, my heart beating wildly making it impossible to take a breath. “We’ve done a lot of shit, Alexius. But would you go so far and take me against my will?”

He lets out a low snicker, his breath skidding along my ear. “Don’t fool yourself, stray. I can fuck you now, I can fuck you tomorrow, I can fuck you every goddamn day for the rest of your life, and it will never be against your will. You know why?” He reaches around my shoulder, taking my throat between his fingers, applying pressure. “Because you want it just as much as I do. No matter how hurt you think you are, your cunt constantly aches for me. And I don’t need to slip my hand between your legs to know you’re wet. I can fucking smell it, and it’s driving me insane.”

I whimper, my eyes rolling closed. “You’re an asshole.”

“Is that all I am?”

“You’re an arrogant prick too.”

“What else?” he rasps, grinding his hard cock against my ass, burying his nose in the crook of my neck, inhaling deep, moaning like my scent is a drug to him.

I bite my lip. “Control freak.”

“Keep it coming, stray.”

“Bastard. Sick fucker.”

“You can go on for days, call me whatever you want, I don’t give a shit. As long as you spread your legs and let me bury myself inside you, you can call me all the names in the book. I don’t fucking care.”

“Jesus!” I cry out, teetering at the edge of madness.

His lips curl against my shoulder. “I’ll be Jesus too.”

“God, Alexius. Stop.” Don’t stop. I slam my palm against the wall, and he tightens his grip on my throat, pulling my head back. His touch is hot, burning as if branding my skin.

He yanks my shirt, tearing the fabric down my shoulder, and I gasp. “Nothing will change if we fuck, Leandra. I’ll still be the husband you wish you could hate, and you’ll be the wife I’ll never give up.”

“Go to hell.”

“In a bit. I just need to make you come first.” He winds his arm around my waist, his hand dipping between my legs, cupping my sex hard. A moan rolls from my tongue, and I squeeze my body harder against him.

“I hate you,” I breathe out.

“Let’s see how much you’ll hate me with my cock inside you.” He drags the tip of his tongue along my naked skin, and I shiver. The way he moans tells me he feels it; he feels the way my body trembles for him. I hate it. I hate that he has so much power over me, but what I hate most is the fact that he knows it.

I clench my jaw. “I hate you so damn much,” I whisper, then hold my breath as his hand slides inside my pants. My legs tremble as he drags a finger through my slit, and he growls against my ear.

“Your body can never lie to me.”

“Yeah. Only one of us is capable of bullshitting the other.”

“Touché.”

“Now, let me go.”

“Never,” he rasps in my ear. “You belong to me.”

“But my heart doesn’t.”

He reaches down, and I moan as he slides a single finger inside me. “Here’s the cold, hard truth, stray. Your heart hurts, and your pain wants you to run from me. But your body won’t ever stop wanting to betray your heart. What we have burns so fucking bright, not even the sun compares.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Right now.” He leans closer, and I can smell his cologne, the whiskey on his breath. “Right now, I want you to let me fuck you until you see fucking stars. And once I’ve made you come, and I’m done staring at your creamed pussy, I want you to tell me how much you love me. That you’ll stop fighting what you feel for me. Then I’m going to watch your tits get larger.” He reaches down and cups my breast, squeezing before dragging his hand to my stomach, flattening his palm. “I’m going to watch your belly grow and feel my babies move inside you, knowing they are the best parts of both of us.”

His hand dips between my legs, his finger circling my clit. “But right now, I just want to fuck you and make you come. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

“That’s your problem, isn’t it? You don’t realize just how much you ask of the people around you.”

“Right now I’m just asking you to give in. To surrender and let your body have what it wants.” His lips are on my earlobe. “My cock.”

He thrusts against my ass, his dick hard and throbbing with a promise for pleasure. When he moves again, my feet lift off the ground, and I reach back, clawing at his neck, nails scratching and fingers digging.

There are so many voices inside my head, screaming at me. I’ve never felt this torn in my entire fucking life. How am I supposed to stay strong, stay standing when every ounce of my being is dying to be with him?

I’m so tired of fighting. The constant battle between my head and heart is exhausting. It’s fucking killing me.

Just once.

I want to surrender…just once.

My control snaps, and desire takes over. Alexius’ arm winds around my midsection, and he pulls me up, forcing me to bend my knees as he carries me with my back against his chest.

I refuse to allow my head the power to form a single coherent thought. I don’t want to think about anything other than the anticipation of ecstasy. I don’t want reality to seep through and give me even a sliver of control. I want to let go and fall.

With one arm, he swipes the desk clean, papers and pens, books and files flying and scattering to the ground. He sets me down on the mahogany wood, his fingers hooking in my pants’ waistband, yanking my underwear down with it, jerking it off and tossing it to the side.

We’re all hot breaths and manic lust, his cold hands pressing against my thighs, spreading me open, diving his tongue into my heated sex. My back is flush against the desk, and my hands weave through his soft hair as he licks from my opening to my clit, teasing and flicking the sensitive nub with his tongue, driving me crazy.

“God, I’ve been craving your taste, stray,” he rasps, causing the sweetest vibrations against my sensitive flesh. “You taste so good.”

My body hums and blood sings while my insides burn. It’s always like this with him. So out of control. So powerful. So goddamn right.

I rock my hips, thrusting into his mouth, needing more. Needing him to push me over the edge.

Alexius groans, reaches underneath my ass, and keeps me in place as he sucks my clit. There’s no more resistance left in me. At least not now. He’s won this battle, and I let him consume and devour me. I’d let him slaughter me if he wanted to.

Pressure starts deep inside my core, and I tighten my grip in his hair.

“Don’t come.” His voice is a low growl of demand, and he lifts his face from between my legs, my arousal glistening on his lips, and my breaths become more labored as I watch him pull out his cock—the sight of his thick girth and pre-cum coated dick reminding me of how it feels to be fucked by him. My husband. The man who owns me body, heart, and soul.

There’s no time to think. No time to speak. We’re both consumed, frenzied, completely possessed, needing our fix as addicts do.

Slipping his arms underneath my legs, he curls his hands over my hips and yanks me closer to the edge. Closer to him.

“Oh, God,” I moan, the velvet tip of his dick nudging at my entrance.

“Say it.”

I press down with my hips, taking the head inside me.

“Fuck!” he growls, slamming a palm on the table, the thud exploding around us. “Jesus Christ. Say it, Leandra! Say you want me to fuck you.”

Again, I buck and move, taking him deeper, his thick length stretching me, sliding against my inner walls. I need more. I need him to fuck me, but I can’t speak. I can’t form the words. All I can do is push down hard, taking all of him with one thrust.

“Fuck!” His fingers dig into my hips, and with a feral growl, he starts to fuck me. Hard. Deep. Relentless. He keeps driving into me, hitting my deepest part, stretching me with divine pressure that builds stronger with every thrust.

“This is what you want.” He jerks my legs up and over his shoulders, wrapping an arm around my thighs to squeeze me tighter against him, wanting his dick deeper inside me. “You want me to fuck you. You want me to use you. You like being my filthy little slut, don’t you?”

I moan.

“Don’t you?” He slaps my thigh, and it’s a searing pain that collides with the pleasure, forcing me to scream.

“Yes! Fuck, yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I like being your filthy slut.”

My muscles tremble, our bodies a frenzied blur of lust and desire. And we are so lost…so fucking lost. There’s no way we’ll ever find our way back from one another. This is us. This is what makes us feel alive. The intensity, the loss of control. Without it, we’re nothing.

I throw my arms back, reaching for the edge of the desk, gripping it tightly as the pressure builds, my back arching as I writhe.

“You feel that?” He slams into me, the pressure inside me a fusion of pain and euphoria. “How my cock fills your pussy so damn perfectly.”

“Hmm-mm.”

“Now, imagine a life without this. Imagine a world where I don’t get to fuck you.” He pulls out and sinks back in. “That’s hell, Leandra. Us being apart is hell.” Alexius’ breaths are labored, his voice strained. “This is what makes us feel alive.”

My hips buck, the back of my thighs flush against his abs. “I have to come. Can I come?”

“Yes, baby girl. Come for me.”

My scream is lost, muted by the wild beat of my heart echoing in my ears as I shatter, falling apart as he fucks me so hard the wood scrapes against my back even through the fabric of my shirt.

The orgasm doesn’t stir. It doesn’t flow from every corner. It detonates, tearing me into pieces of ecstasy, a rapture that rids my head of thought and my heart of pain. With every thrust, and every time he hits my center, the pleasure intensifies, my legs trembling and muscles quivering.

“You have no idea how exquisite you are when you come.” Abruptly, he grabs my legs, hooking his arms around my knees, driving into me deeper, harder, never letting up. It’s unrelenting, savage fuckery, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

My body keeps shaking, and I swear Alexius is deeper inside me than he’s ever been. I can feel his cock swell, and for a moment—a single fucking moment of dangling outside our reality—I want him to come inside me. I need him to come inside me just like he has so many times before. Like he did when he secretly planted his seed inside me.

He growls, his body rigid, and he throws his head back, sweat beading at his temples. Alexius Del Rossa is larger than life. Regal. Powerful. A man whose authority winds around your throat, demanding respect. How did I ever think I could fight him? Think I wouldn’t fall for him, lose myself for him? It comes naturally for everyone around him to be drawn to him.

He slams into me, and then I feel it—the way his cock jerks as he empties himself in me, his cum hot and thick, filling my pussy and coating my thighs.

My walls clench around him, my pussy throbbing from the aftershock of a climax that crashed against every bone. It still hasn’t dissipated. It’s still there, lingering in my loins, tightened around every muscle.

Alexius lets go of my knees and falls on top of me, his breaths coming in rapid waves.

I keep my hands on the edge of the table, staring up at the ceiling as reality starts to creep in from every corner. As the adrenaline wanes, the pain returns, easing back to the place that makes it impossible to ignore.

My heart.

“You lied to me,” I whisper. “And it hurts. God, it hurts so much.”

Alexius shoots up, his face tight with concern. “Leandra—”

“Make it stop. Please,” I beg, my heartache as uncontrollable as the tears streaming down the sides of my face. “Make it fucking stop!” I sob, and he pushes himself off me.

I flinch when his cock slips out, and I turn onto my side, clutching my belly and bending my knees, feeling like a pathetic mess—a woman with no fucking pride. If I had any, I wouldn’t have given in so easily to the man who changed the course of my life without blinking.

I’m a wreck because of him, and there is no way I can fix myself. Nowhere I can run to get away from him and the constant reminder of how fucking weak I am, unable to stop myself from wanting him, yet unable to forgive him.

My mind is broken, and my body no longer feels like it’s mine. I have two babies growing inside me, and a man who’s staked his claim. I lost…me.

“Leandra?” Alexius places his hand on my thigh, and I swear to God it runs flames across my skin.

I can’t take it anymore. I can’t handle the pain.

I jerk up and slap his hand away. “Don’t touch me.” Tears lap into my mouth. “Don’t you fucking touch me.” I hit his arm this time. And then his shoulder.

I hit him again. And again. Faster. Harder. His chest. His stomach. His face. I can’t stop. I keep hitting him, wanting him to hurt, too, because I’m hurting, and it’s not fair for him to be in control while I continue to break.

It’s not fair.

My hands turn into fists, and I want to break him. I want to break him the way he broke me. “I hate you!” I scream. “I fucking hate you, you motherfucker!” I hit him with everything I’ve got, aiming for his face, his chest, every part of him I can get to.

And he lets me.

He doesn’t stop me.

He lets me hit him over and over again, simply pulling his face away every time I aim for his jaw.

“I hate you! I hate you! You son of a bitch!” My mind is caught in a fit of hysteria. I don’t think about anything other than hurting him or feel anything other than my own pain. “You don’t deserve to be a husband. You don’t deserve to be a father,” I scream, and finally, he grabs my wrists and jerks me close, squeezing my hands between his chest and mine.

“You think you’re the only one hurting? You think you know what real torture is?” He brings his face so close to mine, the heat of his breath warms the tears on my cheeks. “Real torture is knowing what I did, I did out of fear of losing you because I love you, yet I’m being punished for it.”

“What you did was fucked up.”

“That’s what love is, isn’t it? That’s what it does. It spawns fear, the kind of fear that debilitates the strongest of men.” He yanks me even closer, his expression nothing but hard lines and stone. “It makes us do stupid shit because the possibility of being hated is much easier to live with than the idea of not being loved.”

“There is nothing you can say that can make this right.”

“You think I don’t know that? You think I wanted to hurt you?”

“It doesn’t matter whether you wanted to or not. What matters is you did hurt me.”

“And I hate the fact that I did.”

“Yet, you refuse to apologize.”

“I can’t apologize for doing something I don’t regret.”

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter and try to jerk free, so I can slide off the table, but he steps in between my legs, pushing himself against me.

“That’s the worst part of all this, Leandra. The fact that I hurt you, but I don’t regret doing what I did. Maybe if you saw regret in my eyes every time you looked at me, you’d find it in your heart to forgive me. But I don’t regret it. I don’t regret wanting to make sure I don’t lose you. Don’t you get that?” He narrows his eyes, tilting his head to the side. “I would much rather have you here hating me than have you out there feeling nothing for me.”

“Well, then,” I jerk my hands free from his grip, “mission accomplished.”

Hurt flashes in his eyes, and it’s the first damn sign of him being human after all. But I can’t acknowledge his pain while I struggle to keep from drowning in mine.

I brush past him and grab my pants, slipping them on without daring to look in his direction. I stuff my panties in my pocket before looking around, not recognizing the furniture. “Whose office is this?”

Alexius rounds the desk and picks up the broken lamp from the floor. “My father’s.”

A lump forms in my throat, and I gather the courage to look at him, catching a glimpse of his grief for a moment, but decide to leave before he manages to reel me in again.

I reach the door when he says, “Stay away from him.”

“Who?” I glance at him.

“My cousin. Rome.” He lifts his chin. “Stay away from him.”

“Or what?”

He straightens his shirt, the mask of a cruel and powerful man slipped back in place. “I’ll kill him.”

I challenge him with a single glare, and he lifts a dark brow.

“Don’t test me, Leandra. I think we’ve both established to what lengths I’m willing to go when it comes to you.”