Page 42 of Battle Scars

He just shakes his head like I can’t be believed and backs out of the parking space. I sit quietly in my seat for the remainder of the drive, lost in my own thoughts. I feel like I’m trapped between a rock and a hard place. How can I want him one minute and then not stand to be around him the next?

I know I need to walk away, to end whatever this madness is. This attraction is making us into awful people, and I can’t help but think that if we just let go, we could go back to who we really are. But then maybe he’s somehow altered me irrevocably.

Even if I did try to end it, why would I think for a minute that he let me go? Everything seems to be on Gabe’s terms—when he takes me and when he pushes me away. There is not one moment that’s mine to decide. Just like the rest of my life. Someone else gets to determine my future. But when is enough going to be enough? When do I get to decide?

I spend the whole drive contemplating the truth of my entire existence, so when we pull into my estate, I’m surprised. The drive from Los Angeles back to San Diego is not a short one. When he parks the car, I get out and silently follow him to the door and wait while he checks the house for intruders.

I don’t speak a word as I take the steps up to my bedroom, knowing the entire time that he’s following me. He follows me right into my room, into my space, and watches me with keen eyes as I toss my purse and my jacket on top of a low dresser.

“So, what should I do with you now?” he asks, his voice low and vibrating with unspent fury or lust. I do not know which.

“I don’t know,” I answer aloud, but we both know that I do.

I’m weak and lacking, and I always will be. I hate this feeling that I can’t do anything right, but when does life ever work out in my favor no matter how hard I work?

“I think I should eat you until you come in my mouth,” he says, and my breath catches in my throat. “And then I think I should fuck your pretty pink pussy until you ache, so you’ll remember to behave tomorrow.”

This is my chance, my opportunity to tell him no. That I can’t keep doing this. The push and the pull is too great. I always cave and, in the end, I’m always left hurting. I could do that, and I should, but I don’t. Instead, I let him strip me of my clothes and lay me on the bed, because once again, my moth has flown too close to his flame. Only when he’s singed my wings—again—will I learn my lesson the hard way.

I watch as he pulls his T-shirt over his head and listen to the clank of his belt buckle as it hits the floor with his jeans. His olive skin is all on display for me, from his powerful shoulders to his hard cock, and I want it all, even though it’s a bad, bad idea.

I don’t speak, and neither does he. I simply nod once, giving in, surrendering to him like we both knew I would. As if I could ever walk away from him. I’m as disgusted with myself as much as I want him to make good on his threats.

There’s no slow build-up, no flowery words or delicate touches as he kneels on the bed at my feet. Gabe leans over me and uses his broad body to spread my legs before he throws them over his shoulders and puts his mouth to me, spearing me with his tongue, making my breath catch and my fingers tighten in the sheets beside me.

Gabe works me with his mouth. He bites and licks and kisses as he drives a finger deep inside me and pumps it in and out, curving it in a way that makes my toes curl. He adds another thick finger, driving me higher and higher so quickly that I feel like I’ll shatter into a million pieces, and no one and nothing will ever be able to put me back together again if I do.

But when there’s nothing but lust and passion, with no hearts engaged, there is no mercy for the weak. Gabe isn’t going to show me mercy as he uses my body to betray me. This fuck is a punishment not a present, and he shoves me savagely right over the edge.

He doesn’t even give me a chance to catch my breath, to come down from my climax, when he scoops me up drags me up the bed. He slams my back against the headboard and claims the space between my thighs, driving me down, impaling me on his hard length. Gabe pins me high enough that I have no purchase, nothing to grab hold of but him—my toes barely drag against the mattress—so that’s exactly what I do. I wrap my arms and legs around him and hold on as best as I can.

He grits his teeth as he pounds into me, holding nothing back. The pads of his fingertips dig into the flesh of my ass as he holds me tight, spreading me helplessly open for his invasion.

The orgasm he just gave me was so strong and so fierce that there’s no way I can come again. I hold on and whisper in his ear. I tell him that he feels so good, filling me all the way up, and then some, with his thick cock. How no one has ever stretched me so full that it hurts as much as it pleases. That no one ever will again. I press my lips against his neck and touch my tongue to him, tasting the salt of sweat on his skin.

It only seems to drive him higher, and he pushes his body faster, to drive harder inside me. And just when I think there’s no way, the pressure builds again. Hard and fast, burning me up from the inside out.

“Navarro,” I gasp as he gives me too much and still not enough. My body is burning with the need to come again, and he won’t give me what I want, what I need.

“Gabe,” he growls as he pulls me down on his cock again and again to punctuate his words. “You call me Gabe in this bed.”

“Gabe.” My voice comes out in breathy pants, and I dig my nails into his shoulder as pleasure washes over me.

“That’s it.”

“Yes,” I gasp as I drop my head back and hold on.

“Mouth,” he barks. “I want your mouth when you come.”

“I can’t,” I cry out. I can barely hold on.

“Yes. You. Can,” he grinds out. “Mouth.” And I tip my head forward and lock eyes on him as I press my mouth to his, desperately trying to hold on for the ride.

It rolls over me all encompassing, devastating me in its wake and he greedily drinks down my cries. Gabe groans against my lips as he pulls me down one last time, holding me onto him as he follows me over the edge.

He drops us back to the bed, his body covering half of mine, I assume in an effort to not crush me with his weight, but I don’t care. I like the feel of him on me, his body holding me down like a weighted blanket, it’s comforting to know he’s still here. With the push and the pull between us, it feels good to know he’s here, when I know that ultimately, I can’t keep him.

“Do you think you’ll behave tomorrow?” His deep voice rumbles next to my ear, breaking the silence of the night..