Shout (The Voice Trilogy Book 3) (6 page)

Ch. 7

              Unable to find the television remote, I doze off in the chair watching some Spanish language soap opera. When he returns, he wakes me softly with a kiss to the back of the hand before they help him back into bed and get him hooked up to his monitors. He seems more at peace, but tight lipped. I decide I have had enough for one day and resolve not to bring her up again until I have the energy to deal with her madness.              

              “Dr. Holder will be in in the morning, Mr. Slate, to check your status.”

              “When will I be discharged?”

              “We need to observe you for a few days at least, I wouldn’t get too anxious. We will have to wait and see what the doctor says, I would make myself comfortable if I were you. You’ve been through quite an ordeal, we want you whole and well. Now, I will be back in a couple of hours to check your vitals and assess your pain.” She slides the glass door shut and we are alone again.

              “Thank you for understanding, Sophie. I had to talk with my father to make sure we are safe to cut ties with Viktor once and for all, and by extension, Nadja. It’s going to be a delicate thing to extract her from our foundations and make it look like her choice. I need her to step down. I just have to make sure everything else is in place. I promise, Sophie, I won’t let her hurt us anymore. This is the last straw for her and me. I mean to untangle once and for all and make a clean break that she has no choice but to accept.”

              “How are you planning to do that?” He taps his temple with a sly grin across his lips.

              “Always working, baby, remember? I have been formulating a plan for a while, my father has wanted to extricate from Viktor. The more we got into his business, the more we realized why he was going under. There is no oversight, and he has dealings with some very shady characters, Sergei being one of them. We had been visiting all of his various holdings around the city, empty warehouses and storage facilities that he couldn’t account for.                 The day we were in the accident, I thought I saw Sergei, but the connection didn’t make sense and I let it go, but in light of what you’ve told me, I can no longer turn a blind eye. If Nadja is mixed up with Sergei again, there is no helping her. If we can only get her to move on, to resign, and allow her to believe that it was all her idea.”

              “Why on earth would she agree or go along with anything like that? She has been fighting so hard to get you back?”

              “We play on her vanity, my love. It’s her Achilles’ heel and it’s time to hit her where it hurts.”

              “You are positively glowing with deviousness, Mr. Slate.” The blush in his cheeks is brighter than it has been and there is a genuine gleam in his eyes.

              “Close the curtain, Sophie, and come here.” I slide the curtain across the door and climb onto the narrow hospital bed. “You have changed my life, Sophie. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you, your love, your patience, or your forgiveness. I love you.”

              “Why?” The words are quiet, but the request roars in my subconscious.

              “Why?” He sits back and looks me in the eye. “Because you are you, Sophie, I can’t explain why, I just do. When I saw you, this beautiful girl so unaware of herself, so real, I was struck. And when I looked into those big green eyes and you batted your long lashes at me, I forgot to breathe, everything changed. When I touched you it was like magic, and then you made me waffles.” He grins. “I love waffles.”

“My whole life I have been surrounded by blindingly shiny objects, Sophie. Beautiful on the outside, but dull and mass produced at heart. I was always chasing the bigger, better model, each one more shiny and superficial than the last. I was in a mindless, pointless competition with myself. I realize now that the real commodity lies in the rare gem, unique, unlike any other, and irreplaceable, something that I alone possess. You are that rare gem. I want your heart, Sophie, I want all of you. It’s only fair, you already have all of me.”

I shift in the small bed, careful not to tug on his IV or the web of tubes and wires that keep him plugged into the nurses’ station. I straddle his lap and he runs his hands up my back and under my shirt. His hands are cold, but soft and gentle. His fingers traverse the length of my back and he pushes my shirt up over my hips.

              “We won't be needing this,” he teases, pulling it up over my breasts.

              “Rhys,” I feign protest, stopping him momentarily from pulling my shirt over my head. “The nurse.”

              “She won’t be back for hours Sophie, we’re alone, baby. Please, let me feel you. I’ve missed you.” I relent easily and quickly forget my worries as he slips his fingers beneath my breasts and pops them up and out of my bra, standing at attention and eye level as they spill over the cup. His eyes grow in hunger, and he grips my flesh with purpose. I feel him grow beneath me and my hips roll against him of their own accord. I lean down to kiss him and he moans before giving me his lips, his tongue taking the lead.

He licks my lips before pulling me into his mouth, our tongues dancing. We kiss until I am out of breath, until the room spins and I completely forget where I am. I press myself into his hands while he kneads my breasts before he pulls one into his mouth, covering as much of my flesh he can before sucking me in. The pull of his mouth sends me reeling and I grip his hair and give him more. He bites me, leaving my nipple red and tight before moving to the other side.

The way he covers me with his mouth is heavenly, every nerve ending awakening and vibrating from his breath, his power, his hunger. He wraps his arm around the small of my back and pulls me closer, his eyes focused on mine as he sucks and bites at my tits. I throw my head back as he bites me again, his hands holding me steady in his lap.

              “Mr. Slate!” Ripped from the moment, I turn to see the nurse standing at the door with an embarrassed, impressed grin across her puckered little face. Mortified, I try to cover myself as she slides the door closed behind her and steps into the middle of the room, not even pretending to avert her eyes. “Well, you seem to have quickly regained your vigor,” she winks, “but, may I remind you that you are hooked up to a heart monitor, and any spike in your blood pressure will bring one of us running.” She checks the heart monitor before tapping a few buttons, and then turns to me as I gingerly climb off the bed with my shirt held in front of me. “As we are glad that Mr. Slate is feeling…. able, we recommend that you wait at least until he is discharged.” My face must be on fire, I can feel the red in my cheeks as she turns back to him. “Dr. Holder will see you in the morning. I’d venture to say the chances of you being discharged are good. But until then I must insist that you get some rest.”

              Dr. Holder shows up first thing in the morning with a knowing twinkle in his eye as he grins and shakes my hand.

              “I understand you are eager to be discharged Mr. Slate. And as I am aware of your renewed strength it is the nature of the swelling in your brain that has me concerned. I would like to keep you for at least another forty-eight hours to ensure that swelling has completely subsided, and we will want to do an x-ray on that hip. Just be patient and we will have you out of here as quickly as possible. I just signed the papers for your father. He will be going home this evening.”

              His swelling continues to go down and the x-rays show a hairline fracture but nothing too serious on his hip. The angry scar on his flesh is the worst of that injury. Three more days of nosey nurses and restless sleep at his side until he finally receives his walking papers.

              Matthew and Olivia are waiting for us when we arrive home. Matthew tries to help Rhys up the stairs, but he refuses, being stubborn as ever. He follows him upstairs while Olivia and I flit around the kitchen out of habit. Nothing has changed; it is just as I left it all, with the addition of three empty bottles of scotch on the counter, tangible evidence of his confessed desperation.

“So, did you talk to him?” I turn to answer her, and we are nose to nose. I take a step back and reflect her stance, hand on my hip, head cocked to the side.

              “Yes, we talked, obviously. He brought it up first thing.” We have a stare off before I crack and laugh at her. “He spilled his guts and I let him.”

              “Good,” she returns quickly, “I know that Nadja has caused all of this, but he had a hand in creating it. He needs to take responsibility and treat you right, Sophie, I swear.” She tears a piece of bread and pops it into her mouth.

              “You realize that you just ate a carb, right?” I tease moving around her.

              “I don’t even care anymore,” she mumbles, her mouth full of bread. “I am just hungry all the time.”

              “Eating for two?” I tease, but she finds no humor in it, snapping back at me.

              “No!” I just look at her, searching for a crack in her facade. “I mean, his mother would die of happiness, but I'm just not sure I'm ready for that.”

“Well, are you being safe?”

“Not exactly. Matthew says he is ready, I am just hoping that my body is listening to me.”

“Olivia!” I laugh, “Sweetie, we both know that is not how it works.”

“Oh, hush, Sophie, I'm dealing with this the best way I know how. I can’t think about it, it’s too much to consider. I can’t believe people make these decisions on purpose. I’d rather just leave it to chance. If it happens, it happens. We will deal with it then, but now, back to Rhys.”

“Olivia the man is lying in bed, just home from the hospital. Can’t we give him a break?”

“A small break, but, Sophie, you have to stick up for yourself. You can’t let that bitch push you around and you can’t allow him to hide things from you anymore. You deserve better, damn it.” I kiss her swiftly on the cheek as I pass; grateful I have her looking out for me.

              Matthew appears an hour or so later as we sip our first glass of wine. His face lights up when he lays eyes on Olivia and his ardor is contagious. As he looks at her, the love he feels for her shines through his eyes, yet she seems totally unfazed. I’d give my right arm for someone to look at me like that. I wonder if Rhys looks at me that way and I just don’t notice.
Nah
.

              Olivia doesn’t even finish her wine. Within moments, he sweeps her out the door and off to dinner. I make my way upstairs to check on Rhys.

CH. 8

I find him propped up in his oversized bed, pillows surrounding him, a laptop already opened, his phone waiting on the nightstand. I shake my head, wanting him to rest, but I know that he won’t. He watches me as I cross the room

              “Is there anything I can get for you?” I ask, hopping onto the end of the bed.             

“What I really want is scotch and a cigar, Beautiful.”

              “You are not supposed to have either, Rhys, and you were there when the doctor said as much.”

              “I just thought that, perhaps, since you love me,” he winks, “maybe you would bend the rules for me.” His sly grin and twinkling eyes make me weak. “Please,” he mouths, flashing that damn dimple and looking positively helpless. I sigh in resignation, not even putting up a fight, wanting too badly to see that coy smile on his face. When I return to the room, his eyes are closed and his mouth slack. I put the scotch on the bedside table and crawl in next to him, but as I do, I see the smile rise on his face and he pulls me close with a growl in his throat.

              “Mmmmm, I miss the feel of you, Beautiful, the smell of your hair, the taste of your skin,” he mumbles against my neck, his lips sweeping across my delicate skin like a paintbrush. “I love you, Sophie.  I’m never going to let you go again.” And as I open my eyes, he is staring straight through me, consuming my soul with the fire in his eyes, and I know that I will never leave this man. My heart would crumble to dust and I would cease to exist as one surely cannot survive without their heart, and he certainly owns mine. Lock and key. He winces as he reaches for the scotch, and I sit up to help.

              “No, Beautiful, I can get it,” he groans as he sits slowly upright and adjusts himself against the bank of pillows at his back. “I don’t want you waiting on me,” he says as he swirls the scotch in his glass, watching the amber liquid dash up the sides only to slide back down in a delicious, aromatic dance. Before he takes his sip, he offers me the glass, tipping it to my lips. I take a shallow sip, pulling the essence of the scotch into my nose, the essence of Rhys. He takes his drink and rests the glass in his lap.

              I snip the tip of his cigar and hand it to him, offering him a light. He puffs and puffs until he is eclipsed by a cloud of smoke and I toss the lighter on the table. He settles in and I fit nicely into his side, the missing piece to his puzzle. We sit in silence while he puffs away, watching smoke rings meander across the room as our hearts reconnect and settle into a perfect rhythm. I take the cigar from his fingers and pull a few shallow hits before gingerly climbing over him and placing it in the ashtray. He pulls me into his lap and I straddle him, careful not to put any weight on him, afraid to hurt him.

              “I’m not so frail, Sophie. I want to feel the weight of you, please, Beautiful, don’t be afraid. You won’t hurt me.” His fingers dig into my hips as he pulls me down from my knees, coaxing me into his lap. I relent, but still hover as he places his hand over my heart, his fingers digging ever so slightly into my flesh. “This is mine,” he says, silently signing his deed of ownership over my heart.

Melting over him slowly, I press against him as his cock grows beneath me. His hands fist in my hair and he steadies my face, “I need to feel you, Sophie. All of you. I need to feel that pussy quiver as I sink into you. I want you to take me hostage and never let me go.” His breathing increases and becomes shallower with each passing word, and his eyes darken like those of a hunting wolf zeroing in on his prey. He looks as if he could devour me and I want him to, every last inch of flesh, every single drop of blood. I need him to consume me before the fire within does.

He pulls my face to him and swallows me with a kiss that could ignite the world. His mouth moves against mine as his tongue invades a willing territory. Biting my lips as I suckle his tongue, he kisses me so deep that I forget to breathe and I dive headfirst into the abyss, wanting to be carried away by his heavenly mouth, the tide of his tongue, the force of his love, and the heat of his lust. When he finally pulls back, I’m so lost for breath I’m dizzy and half out of my mind.

“Show me, Sophie; show me what I’ve been dreaming about, what I saw in my mind’s eye, what I want, what I need, and what is mine.” I climb from the bed and stand before him, ready, more than ready, desperate. And in an instant, under his gaze, everything falls away. He strips me with his eyes before I ever strip away a stitch of clothing, and I know I have nothing to fear. This man loves me. I pull my shirt slowly over my head, stretching my arms high above me, exposing my soft belly, my hips swaying as I pull the shirt from my arms and surrender it to the floor. The corner of his mouth curls in that damn crooked grin and I start to rush, tugging at my jeans and the fucking button.

              “Slow down, Beautiful, we have all night,” he chuckles, sitting up against the pillows. “I want every moment to last a lifetime, my love.”  I melt where I stand as his words sink into my bones.
My love
. Nothing has ever felt so good, my heart swells, my pussy drips, and a singular, ecstatic tear rolls down my cheek as I hook my thumbs into my jeans and slide them down my legs, careful to run my fingers along my thighs, igniting little fires that I’m sure he will stoke. I step from my jeans leaving them in a pool of dark denim at my feet and stand before him in just my panties and bra. Nothing fancy, just me in all my ordinary glory, pink cotton panties and a basic T-shirt bra, but the way he looks upon me makes me feel like I’m dripping in diamonds and dipped in gold, the most precious of treasures.

              “My God, you are beautiful,” he whispers with such admiration in his eyes that I couldn’t possibly doubt him. I reach behind me and unhook my bra, letting the straps fall from my shoulders, dropping it to the floor before me. The cool air caresses my skin and my nipples stand at attention, eager for his brand of lust. He is watchful, appreciative of every soft inch. I lick my lips and muster the tiniest bit of courage as I slip my panties down my legs and stand before him, completely naked, completely his. He rakes me over with his deep green eyes, traveling over each dip and curve, reading me like a book, and I just stand there happy to let him see me dripping with anticipation and a confidence I have never known. In all my naked glory, I am happy to stand before him, proud to belong to him, and eager to show him how amazing he has made me feel.

              “Come here,” he commands and I go to his side without a second thought. He places his hand on my tummy and I flinch, only slightly, but he isn’t having any of it. “Don’t,” he says sternly, his finger beneath my chin, tipping my head to force me to look him in the eyes. “Don’t ever shrink from my touch, Sophie; don’t ever try to hide what is mine. I love you, worship you, every fucking inch. Do you understand?” I nod slightly, but it’s not good enough. “I said, do you understand?”

              “Yes, I understand.” He wraps his hand around my waist and pulls me to the edge of the bed. “Don’t ever doubt how beautiful you are, Sophie, never again. Now,” he pauses as he shifts his legs, “climb onto my lap, Beautiful.”

              I climb into his lap, straddling him, careful not to put too much weight on him, but he won’t be treated with kid gloves. He pulls me down and I settle with his clothed cock between my legs. Releasing a deep sigh, he runs his fingers along my     collarbone, sending a tremor down my spine, followed by his soft lips, dragging them across my neck, igniting every inch of skin. Our mouths dance slowly at first; biting and suckling at one another until he takes me with his full force, stealing my breath in the same moment. His hands slide down my sides resting for a moment on my hips, his fingers exploring and recording every soft dimple and curve of my body. His eyes shine with a carnal lust that makes me so wet I could be drowning, and here I sit, atop my man. A man that loves me; there is nowhere else I would rather be.

              He watches my eyes as he slips a finger between my lips, exploring the warm depths he so inflames and without warning, he plunges into me, first one finger, then two. His eyes flare with purpose as I gasp and adjust to his welcomed assault. Pumping his fingers into me, he pushes me up from his lap creating a daunting rhythm that makes my thighs burn. His other hand moves to my chest and he grips my breast in his massive fist. Bringing my flesh to his mouth, he bites down hard on my nipple, pulling it through his teeth as he watches my eyes grow in delight and in pain. He moves from one breast to the other, torturing, biting, and sucking on my skin until I’m marked by his sinful mouth. I watch the bruises bloom under my skin and revel in the feeling of the blood rushing back. He kisses the base of my throat as he slips his hand around the back of my neck, holding me steady, forcing me to watch him as his nostrils flare and his concentration focuses. He works my body like a tool, a tool he is at once familiar with and still eager to learn. I sink onto his fingers, pulling him into me and grind against his palm, needy and wanting more, but he just chuckles.

              “Oh no, Beautiful,” he shakes his head playfully, his eyes hooded and dark. “We aren’t going there yet, I want you to beg. I want you to be as desperate as I am.”

              “But, I am,” I moan, tilting my head back, wanting everything.

              “No, I don’t think you are,” he smirks as he slides yet another finger into my pussy, stretching me wide, pumping into me like a drill. Just as he begins to hit a spot that makes me want to scream, his thumb presses to my clit and I jerk in his lap. “Oh, a little sensitive are we?” he asks with a wink, making a meal out of torturing me. Sweet, delightful torture. His grip tightens on my neck as he plunges his fingers into me over and over, curled around so he hits that soft spot that drives me wild, that spot that only he knows, that he discovered. I buck and ride his hand until he is soaked and I’m winded and I can’t wait another minute.

              “Please,” I mewl in a labored whisper.

              “Please what, my love?” I look into his wicked eyes and cannot control my mouth for another second. Every ounce of inhibition goes out the window as he thrust his fingers up into me, and I scream, “Please Rhys, I need your cock. I need to feel you, all of you. Please for God’s sake, fuck me now!” I’m shaking my head side to side positively possessed with the thought of his cock. I need it now.

              “That’s what I wanted, Beautiful.” he exclaims, pulling his fingers from my pussy and freeing his cock in one fell swoop. Without a moment’s hesitation, I wind my fist around his pulsing cock and watch him slip his fingers into his mouth, his sleepy eyes lighting up as he moans and licks each finger clean. A ferocious lust grows behind his eyes and he grabs me by the hips and guides me over him, sliding into me at a fool’s pace; inch by inch he controls me as I sink and try to swallow him. Stretching me open and claiming what is his, I have never wanted to be owned, to be possessed as fully as I do in this moment. I want him to take me over completely, and in his eyes I see his glee as he reads me like a book.

              “Yes, Beautiful, I see it in your eyes. Do it my love, just let go; I will always take care of you.” As the last words fall from his beautiful mouth, he slams into me, his whole pulsing length possessing me and I am found. Never have I felt so whole, so complete, and so full. He takes me by the hips and sets his pace, steady and measured. Each thrust deliberate and brutal until he hits a spot that makes my blood sing. Like a chorus on high, each and every time his cock hits that spot, I am less and less in control of my body. Nailing it now dead on, so deep, and so wild, my hair thrashes about my face as I try to keep pace, try to ride him like a fucking bull, and then he stops. So deep within me, pressing against that sweet spot, he stops and watches my eyes burn. He holds me still, won’t let me move, as a hunger grows so rabid in me that I may just go fucking insane.

Slowly again he starts to move, holding me still, fucking into me like a jackhammer. Faster and faster he begins to pummel me, each time hitting that spot. Like an itch I cannot scratch, so deep. Every time he thrusts against it, I growl at him, fucking needy, wanting more, needing more. It’s an addiction to feel him deep within me, stroking that tiny spot that belongs fully to him. Each time more intense than the last until my eyes roll back and I hear him whisper, “Let go, Sophie.”

One last brutal thrust and I tighten my strangle hold on him before I explode, my pussy pulses and gushes, soaking him, soaking us both. My body begins to shake, my legs trembling, my hands grip his shoulders and I hold on for dear life and ride it out. Feeling like I’m being ripped apart, good Lord in heaven, I couldn’t stop shaking if I wanted. As I come down, he thrusts up into me again and again, forcing me to come over and over, until tears streak down my face, his fingers surely tattooed upon my skin now as his grip is brutal and deliberate. When he finally empties himself, I feel his heat invade my body, a lovely white hot heat that fills me utterly. With his neck craned to the ceiling, his eyes focused solely on me, and his body, his broken and battered body beneath me, I immediately come back into myself and try to lift up from his lap, but he refuses.

              “No, Beautiful, I need to feel you. I will not let you go,” he mutters against the sweat slicked skin of my throat before running his tongue to the base of my ear. He takes my lobe between his teeth and pulls before his warm lips rest against my ear. “You are my everything, Sophie. I just want to stay connected like this for as long as possible. Please don’t go”

              “I’m not going anywhere, Rhys. I just don’t want to hurt you.”