Angel (A Companion Book to Monster) (Impossible #1.5) (9 page)

A frustrated growl ripped its way up my throat when I reached the street.  I didn’t know how much of a head start she had on me, and I had no idea which way she had gone.

Fear clashed with triumphant relief when I heard her scream.  She was close, but she was terrified.

The dimly-lit street fell away around me as adrenaline sharpened my focus.  There was nothing in my world but the need to get to her, to destroy the person who was frightening her.

I didn’t recognize the feral, furious roar that echoed through the alleyway as my own.  A man was touching her, holding her, restraining her.  He had her wrists pinned against the brick wall, and his fingers were digging into her soft breast.

Possessive rage tore through me.  How could he dare to touch what was mine when I had been denied the pleasure for so long?  He was going to die for despoiling her innocent flesh with his filthy hands.  The right to claim that innocence was
mine alone.

The rabid thoughts raced through my maddened mind in the space of a second before I threw myself at him, tearing him away from her.  His slight body hit the ground hard.  Claudia’s frailty had left her vulnerable to this man, but he was no match for me.  I was going to tear him apart.

Vindictive satisfaction flooded me as I felt his bones break beneath my fist.  His agonized cry was extinguished when I hit him again.  And again.  He went quiet; the only sound coming from him was a sick, gurgling noise as he struggled to draw breath.  I realized with cold clarity just how easily I could end his miserable existence.

It was that thought that penetrated my homicidal rage.  My mind might have been in the grip of insane fury, but some part of
myself recognized that killing him would be going too far; I wouldn’t be able to come back from that.  She wouldn’t forgive me if I did that.

I pushed myself to my feet and pulled the gun from my waistband.  My hand was steady as I cocked it, training the barrel directly at his heart.

“Get out of here,” I ground out, my voice an inhuman snarl.  “If I ever see you in this neighborhood again, I won’t hesitate to kill you.  Understand?”

The look of terror in his eyes and his shaky nod were all the confirmation I needed.  The man was seconds away from pissing himself.  I heard him scrambling to get away from me, but I didn’t watch him go.  I only had eyes for her.

The ferocity of my anger was unbridled, my rage consuming my sanity.  When her wide, terrified eyes met mine, she shrank away from me, her body trembling.

Her fear cut me to the core.  For her to look at me with such horror was utterly, grotesquely
wrong.

Her shaking knees buckled, and I automatically reached out to catch her.  Acting on instinct, I lifted her up in my arms and cradled her to my chest.  I held her to me tightly, her warmth reassuring me that she was real.

She panicked, her body instinctively fighting against my restraining hold.  But I couldn’t soften my grip on her.  Her small, strangled cry tore at me like a knife to the gut, but my arms just tightened around her.  I wasn’t going to let her go.  Not for anything.  And she was going to have to accept that.

I stroked my hand up and down her arm, trying to soothe her.

“Shhh, Claudia.  It’s just me,” I reassured her softly.  “You’re safe now.”

Yes, she was safe from
him.

Her safety from me was another matter entirely.

Chapter 7

My brain was a tangled mess, my acute anger at the man who had tried to take her from me warring with my intense relief at having found her.  And my fury at her for running from me was undiminished.  But the way that she buried her face in my chest, her hands fisting in my t-shirt as she clung to me, filled me with a sense of
perverse satisfaction.  She did identify me as her savior after all.  Even if she hadn’t before, she would have to after tonight.

I might be her jailor, but now she would be forced to see just how much she needed me.  And once I had her body under my control and her mind in my thrall, she would accept that I was just as essential to her survival as she was to mine.

I had become so consumed by the fantasy of the happy life that we could share that its loss caused me to completely lose my grip on reality.  Once the illusion was shattered, I would be forced to realize the repulsive truth: I had abused and imprisoned an innocent woman who wanted nothing more than to escape me.  If I let go of the fantasy of her, I would have to return to the bitter reality of my existence.  Even before she had come into it, my world had been such a broken, fucked up place that my mind refused to return to it.  I would fashion a new reality for us, one where we could both be happy.  Once she accepted her fate.

Soothing words fell from my lips in a constant, low rumble as I surrendered to my madness.  I wasn’t really aware of what I was saying to her, but I was driven to ease her trembling, to stop the sobs that wracked her small frame.  I would be gentle with her when she needed me to be.  Earning her trust was essential.

Besides, I couldn’t deny that seeing her so distraught made my stomach roil.

She tensed in my arms when I opened the door to my apartment building.  I made the mistake of looking down into her eyes, and the grief and desperation that I saw there almost made all of my selfish plans for possessing her crumble.

“Please, Sean.  I just want to go home.”

The way that her voice shook when she said my name further tested my resolve.  But rationally I knew that letting her go wasn’t an option.  And if I couldn’t give her what she most desired, then I would just have to change her desires, to convince her that she wanted to be with me more than she wanted her freedom.

I tore my eyes from hers, refusing to succumb to her power over me again.  I couldn’t deny that I was still obsessed with her, but that obsession would no longer allow her any control over me.  I was in charge of our interactions now, and she would come to see that it was better for her that way.  Once she accepted that, her new life with me would be easier.  It would be enjoyable.

“I can’t take you home, Claudia,” I informed her.  She flinched at my words, and I struggled to keep the roughness of my anger from my tone.  “I’m sorry,” I said more quietly.

As much as I eagerly anticipated our new life together, I truly did regret her unhappiness with our situation.  It only made me that much more determined to force her to like it, to like
me.

I resolutely ignored the sinking feeling inside me at the sight of her tears.  I tore my eyes from hers to allay my discomfiture, but I could still feel them wetting my shirt where her face was tucked against my chest.

When I carried her into the bathroom in my apartment, the light illuminated the rapidly darkening bruise that marred the smooth perfection of her pale cheek.

Rage bubbled up in me again.  He had hit her, had damaged what was mine.

She glanced up at me, but she immediately dropped her gaze, clearly intimidated.  My anger was etched in every line of my face, and I fought to rein it in.  I couldn’t add to her fear right now.  I needed to make her feel safe when she was in my presence.

Her brow creas
ed.

“Sean, you’re hurt.”  The rush of pleasure that was elicited by her concern overrode the aching pain in my shoulder.  I had barely been aware of it anyway; all of my focus was honed on my plan to manipulate her into submission.

“Put me down.”  Her demanding tone made me bristle, but I chose to ignore the sensation.  I would put an end to her bossiness soon.

“Can you stand on your own?”  I asked, my hard expression communicating that I wouldn’t tolerate a lie.

She rolled her eyes at me.  “Of course I can,” she said snippily.  “I’m not the one who’s hurt.”

The signs of disrespect made my barely-suppressed anger spill over.

“You’re not hurt?”  I questioned her harshly as I set her down on her feet.  Was she lying about her pain or was she really that oblivious to the damage that she had caused herself by running from me?

I spun her body roughly so that she was facing the mirror.

Her eyes widened as she took in her disheveled appearance, her gaze falling on her bruised cheekbone.

“Oh,” she said softly.

“
Oh?
”  I mimicked her ludicrously blasé response.  “Is that all you have to say?  What were you thinking?  Do you have any idea…?”

I stopped myself before I went on a tirade.  Not only did I not wan
t to scare her, but I realized that I was dangerously close to losing my control again.

This is me under control?

A small part of me recognized that I was in the grip of possessive insanity, but my madness had all but obliterated my rationality.

She rounded on me, lightning crackling through the storm clouds in her eyes.  “What other choice did you give me?”  She hissed.  “Did you just expect me to stay here like a good girl? 
To allow you to keep me as your
pet
forever?”

For once, I didn’t find her anger remotely cute.  Her words hit too close to home.  That was exactly what I wanted to do with her.  That was what I
was
going to do with her.  There were no other options.

“I don’t have a choice here, Claudia,” I ground out, willing her to understand that her demands that I release her were completely irrational and futile.

“Yes, you do!”  She insisted hotly, half-shouting.  “And you’re making the wrong one!”

Her eyes shone with tears again as she glared up at me, and she swiped at them angrily.  When her knuckles raked over her bruised cheek, she winced.

I reached out automatically, my fingers encircling her slim wrist as I pulled her hand away from her face.  She wasn’t allowed to hurt herself.  From now on I controlled her pain; I knew how to administer it for her benefit.

The indignant fury in her eyes melted, and she shivered slightly in response to my domineering touch.  The little furrow between her brows betrayed her confusion at her reaction to me.

“Here,” I said softly.  “Let me.”

I pressed my advantage, exploiting her moment of weakness by treating her gently.  Carefully, I brushed away the wetness on her cheeks.  The contrast of the tender touch with my firm grip on her wrist would mess with her thought processes, demonstrating that acceptance of my control would be rewarded.

It was time to finish what we had started that afternoon.  She no longer had the option of saying no.  I would listen to the way that her body begged and ignore her words.  She didn’t really mean them anyway.  They were a product of her confusion, of her hesitancy.  But that sort of thinking was only making her new existence that much harder for her to endure.  Once I eradicated that reluctance, she would be much happier.

I touched my hand to the side of her face, my fingers curving to match the line of her cheek, my thumb hooking below her jaw.  Although my touch barely brushed her skin, she went
utterly still, trapped by my power over her just as effectively as she would be by the restraints that I craved to use on her.

Her gaze dropped from my eyes to my lips, and her tongue darted out to wet her own.  The sight of her surrender to her desires was intensely gratifying, and a knowing, triumphant smile spread across my face.  I leaned into her slowly, building her anticipation.  Her pupils dilated and her breath quickened; she enjoyed the way I was toying with her.  By the time I allowed her lips to touch
mine, she would be quivering from her acute need.

Her eyes flashed, defiance replacing the soft submission that had filled them.  For the space of a moment, I thought that I was going to have to physically impose my will on her in order to deny her escape.  But to my astonishment, her small hand closed firmly around the back of my neck, and she pulled herself up into me, closing the distance between us.  She crushed her lips to mine, and shock made me still beneath her.

Her eagerness to kiss me was undeniably satisfying, but her little show of rebelliousness wouldn’t be tolerated.  My tender fingers left her cheek to tangle in her hair at the nape of her neck.  The feel of the silken strands wrapped around my fist made blood pulse to my cock.  I tugged sharply, administering a little jolt of pain to reinforce my control.  Her head dropped back and her lips parted for me.  I swallowed her small, shocked gasp, savoring it.

She was going to learn that her mouth and her body were mine to use as I pleased.  I took her lips mercilessly, forcing her to accept that she would only be rewarded with my touch if she played by my rules.  My tongue delved into her hot mouth.  Her attempts to cling onto some control as her tongue tangled with mine amused me.  I indulged her for a few seconds before shoving her back against the wall, my hand in her hair preventing her head from cracking against
the tiles.  She gasped at the sudden coolness of them touching her skin, and I took advantage, fucking her open mouth with my tongue, exploring every inch of her.

I released her hair so that I could grasp her wrist.  Never having let go of the other one, I pulled her arms up and pinned her wrists against the wall on either side of her head.  Her pleasurable shudder spurred me on, and my cock hardened as she melted for me, her body turning softly compliant.  All resistance left her as I ravaged her mouth.

This was how she was meant to be; she was utterly perfect in her submission to me.  It wasn’t lost on me that the way that I had trapped her against the wall mirrored the way that her attacker had restrained her.  I pinned her in that position in a show of ownership. 
I
was meant to possess her body like this, and no one else.  And the way that she responded to my dominance so beautifully confirmed my claim.

My lips curved triumphantly against hers when she
pressed her hot pussy against my thigh, grinding against me.  Her soft whine pleaded with me to grant her the release that she so desperately needed, that I had awoken within her.  I was fiercely tempted to free my cock from my pants, shove her dress up over her hips, and drive into her heat.

But I didn’t want our first time to be a frenzied fuck against the bathroom wall.  I was going to take my time claiming her, branding every inch of her beautiful body with my touch until she was reduced to a desperate, whimpering mess.  Only then would I reward her with my cock, and the feeling of her inner walls rippling around me as she came again and again would bring me the perfect pleasure that she had denied me for so long.

I shifted my grip from her wrists to entwine her fingers with mine, to join our bodies in a more intimate way.  But the small cry that escaped her when my palms pressed against hers had nothing to do with pleasure. 

I broke our kiss, pulling back from her immediately.
I never wanted to cause her pain.  Well, not unintentionally.

I held her hands carefully, inspecting them.
Angry red scratches crisscrossed her soft palms.  They weren’t deep, but the sight of the damage, the reminder that
he
had hurt her, caused anger to pierce my lust.

She jerked her hands from mine, and all of the blood drained from her cheeks.

“I should check your stitches,” she said, her voice detached and clinical.  Her lips were twisted down in disgust, and she looked like she might be sick.

Her blatant revulsion doused the remnants of my lust, and the depth of my insanity came crashing down on me.  I suddenly remembered why it would be grotesquely wrong of me to force her submission.

But it was more than that; to do that to her would be so much worse than just a violation of morality.  Yes, I was drawn to her compassion and her vulnerability, but I also loved her little flashes of defiance, her strength of will.  I had thought that I wanted to break her, but doing so would mean extinguishing that fire inside of her that made her who she was.  I still craved her submission, but I was forced to acknowledge that breaking her to my will wouldn’t bring her happiness.  She had asked me if I expected her to remain with me as my pet, and in my madness I had thought that warping her into my plaything really would be the best thing for her.  For both of us.  But even if I was successful in reducing her to that, the woman that she was now, the woman that I craved, would no longer exist.  I wanted
her
, not a shadow of her.

I raked my fingers through my hair in frustration.  “Shit,” I muttered.  “Claudia, I-”

Her icy glare made the words die in my throat.  I had no idea what I wanted to say anyway.  There were no good answers here, no easy solutions.  We were going to be trapped with one another indefinitely, and we were both going to have to learn how to deal with that.