Breach (12 page)

“Baby, you feel so fucking good,” he whispered into my ear.
“So sexy, so fucking irresistible. Don’t want to fight it anymore. Beautiful Lila. You make me crazy.”

It was a slow burn
, my body humming with each thrust in and whimpering with each stroke out, our bodies rocking together. It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. The fire consumed me, my body and my heart opening up to him.

“You
like that, don’t you? Oh, shit…you…you like my cock thrusting into you, don’t you?” he asked, wanting an answer. “That’s how dirty of a slut you are. Tell me—you like my cock always pumping into you?”

“No.”

“No?” he questioned, his voice losing the confident edge it held. He sounded unsure, his hips stopped moving, leaving him buried to the hilt. I had a hard time concentrating on anything at all when he was that deep inside me.

“No. I love it.”

“Fuck, shit.” His hips dug harder as his grip tightened. Speed increased, his teeth biting into my shoulder. I was getting close, whimpering at every movement.

If possible, he held me closer
. His groans of pleasure had me shaking, sitting on the edge of my orgasm. I was panting into his neck, just behind his ear.

I wanted to mar
k him as he marked me, and I found my spot. I licked at his skin, tasting the saltiness of it. My mouth clamped onto the tendon right below his ear, sucking hard before my teeth pushed into his skin. Hard enough to mark, but not hard enough to break skin. Like he did to me.

“Shit!” he cried out, his
thrusts becoming erratic.

I tipped over the edge, and screamed
out his name as my pussy clenched around him. “Nate!”

“That’s it, baby,
fucking come. Shit, shit. Oh, fuck. You really do love this shit.” His body started shaking as his hips stilled.  Our eyes were locked with one another, his hooded and glazed, and I was certain mine matched. I felt him emptying inside me, and I shuddered in ecstasy.

After his orgasm
, his arms gave out, no longer able to hold his weight. He fell to the side, landing next to me on the bed, and pulled me up so that my head was resting on his chest.

H
ours later, I awoke with the need to use the bathroom, prying myself from the death grip he had on me. Once done, I walked back into the bedroom and gazed at his sleeping form.

The light was starting to come in through th
e windows, illuminating his body. He was lying there, naked, the sheet barely covering below the waist, one of his legs sticking out. I had never seen him naked before; he had always been half dressed. But in that moment I could admire him in all his glory.

I walked closer to the bed and
my stomach dropped. The sight before me was horrific. I felt as though I’d been punched in the gut.

A thick
, jagged and raised pink scar ran on his left side from his ribs, down his side, and around his hip. It wasn’t the only scar. Some were jagged, others straight, but all were smaller than the one on his side, marring his beautiful body.  There were holes next to some, indicating the wound had been stitched or stapled up. His left leg held the second largest scar, and it ran from above his knee to halfway down his shin. I studied his face as I tried to keep myself together. That was when I noticed the star shaped scar in his hairline, right above his ear.

It
was part of his puzzle, a big piece of his mystery. Something had happened to him, something terrible, and he shut himself off to everything. My heart was breaking as I took in the sight of the evidence of his once broken body.

Tears flow
ed in steady streams down my face when I dropped to the ground, my legs giving out. I erupted in violent shakes, arms wrapping around my body, trying desperately to keep the sob that was threatening to escape within me.

“Lila?”
His voice was groggy and thick with sleep. He jumped out of bed and stood in front of me, giving me the full view of his body and all the damage that had been inflicted. The sob broke from my chest, and it was painful and raw. “
Lila
?”

He dropped down on the ground in front of me
, and I flung my arms around his neck, pulling him close. Tears were falling from my eyes as his arms wrapped around my body, his head dipping into the crook of my neck.

“What happen
ed? What happened to you?” I asked through my sobs. His grip grew tighter as if he was using my body to hold his own together, to keep himself from breaking.

“Please, don’t ask me that
. Please… I can’t…”

We held each other on the floor for what seemed like hours until my tears stopped
. I leaned away from him to see a frightened look in his eyes. My gaze wandered his body, my fingers reaching out to trace the large scar around his hip. He didn’t flinch at my investigation, but stared at me in wonder.

He leaned in and took my bottom lip between his te
eth, staring into my eyes. He was searching for something, but he couldn’t find it.

“Push me away
; you have to,” he demanded. His eyes were haunted and scared.

“No.”

“
Push me away
!”

“
I can’t
!” I cried out, the tears returning.

His
body sagged. “Why? Tell me why…say it.”

My heart
was breaking for the hollow, empty shell of a man in front of me. “Because I want you! I want you so much it hurts! I need all of you, and I can’t deny it anymore.”

He
looked down at me, his inner conflict and turmoil evident on his face.

His fingers brushed strands of hair behind my ear as he cupped my face.
“I can’t give you what you want, beautiful. I’ll only hurt you.”

“It’s ok
ay. If it’s you, I don’t mind.”

“S
top,” he pleaded, his hands coming up in surrender. “Let’s just go back to bed.”

“Okay…
okay.”

With that
, we returned to the sanctuary that was his bed, and curled up in each other’s arms. It seemed to be what we both wanted, what we both needed. He was relenting, if even a little, and letting himself simply be.

CHAPTER
9

I
t’d been a week since I admitted to myself I was altered. That
Nathan
had altered me. The growing feelings for him I’d kept hidden, were out. The night after we left the club made me face that fact.  How I thought and felt about him changed; he wasn’t the asshole I thought he was when I first met him. He was a broken man, and it made me wonder – can two broken souls make one whole person?

He intrigued me, it wasn’t only
sex anymore. Every time his guard dropped around me, I saw the real Nathan, and I liked him. I wanted him. Every day I needed him more. Any thought of leaving him and returning to the way we were, was painful.

O
ne week had passed since he conceded to letting himself have
something
with me. It was undefined and not spoken about out loud; little different than it was in the beginning. The exception was every night he was either in my bed or I was in his. It started on Saturday night when he showed up at my door just before midnight and took me against the wall in the entryway.

F
or three nights in a row, I was running to answer his knock near midnight. He’d fucked me like I’d never been fucked before. His eyes were dark and angry as he snarled at me; always reminding me he believed his lust for me was my fault. Hands dug into my flesh, bruising me. They were harsh as he pulled me to him, at the same time he pushed me away. Then we’d crawl into bed and fall sleep, his arms wrapped around me with the same intensity he’d used to fuck me.

On the fourth night, things changed. It was
past midnight and he hadn’t knocked on my door. I knew of his struggle, and if I truly wanted him, I was going to have to fight for him. So, a few minutes before one in the morning, I knocked on
his
door and fucked
him
into oblivion then collapsed, exhausted, in
his
bed.

I’d
never had such a peaceful sleep. The cure for my insomnia appeared to be a hard fucking, as I had passed out every night and did not wake until the alarm went off the next morning.

T
hat lasted until the wee hours of Saturday morning when I felt the bed shake before Nathan screamed out—a sound so raw and harrowing, I knew it would haunt me for the rest of my life.

His body was shaking, his chest gasping for air as he swung his legs around the side of the bed. He fumbled
in the dark with the light switch, and I cringed against the sudden, intense glow that filled the room. I couldn’t see anything, but I heard a drawer open, and the clinking of plastic and what sounded like pills bouncing around. Frustrated sounds and movements came from him in his frantic search. Once he found the right bottle, he opened a container and threw his head back.

I crawled out from under the comforter to sit next to him
, my eyes having adjusted to the light. He must have felt the bed move, because his hand shot out and pushed the drawer closed, as if he didn’t want me to see the contents inside. He was still breathing hard, his face contorted in pain and anguish. My chest constricted; his agony became mine. It was so overpowering at times; I wondered how he even managed day-to-day tasks. Or was it my presence? It was always me that set him off, that much I knew. He never did explain why, other than he was angry at himself for wanting me and giving into that want to some degree.

My hands reached up to cup his face. His pained gaze met mine as he leaned into my touch.

“Ssshhh,” I soothed, my other hand stroking the sweat matted hair from his face. “It’s all right, baby. Everything’s all right.”

His lips caught mine in a
harsh kiss. He didn’t say anything, but pulled me close as we lay back down. His arms wrapped around my body, head lowering to the crook of my neck. My hands began running through his hair.

After a
while he calmed and I could feel the even temper of his breath blowing across my chest. Tears stung my eyes, but I pushed them back. I needed to be stronger if I was going to help him; a large feat for me.

It was Wednesday when Caroline dragged me out into the spring rain for lunch at our favorite dive.  It was a hole in the wall bar that served so
me of the best potato skins I’d ever had. It was a rare treat to split an order, and I was willing to brave the weather for the wonderful tastes that awaited.

We placed our order and included side salads to make it a little less ter
rible.

“So, you got laid?” she asked without missing a beat.

I choked on the drink as it went down the wrong pipe, and almost spit some of my soda across the table at her. “W-what?”

“You heard me.
You. Got. Laid.”

“How… W
hy do you think that?”

“Oh, come on, Lila. I’ve known you since we interned together between L2 and
L3. That’s five years, if you’re trying to figure it out.”