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16
River
When I wakeup in the morning, I can feel that soreness settling in from the rough sex with Knox last night. The cut on my back isn’t deep at all, a testament to his skill with a blade, but I can feel it when I get out of bed and stretch slowly.
My body twinges with that low-down ache that only comes from being fucked into the mattress or the wall or a counter full of torture implements, and it makes me smile just a little as I savor it.
It feels good. Like being alive.
But I still need a shower.
I go crank the water up as hot as I can stand it and let the bathroom fill with steam while I work my fingers through the tangle of my silver hair.
When I get in under the spray, the hot water makes the cut sting, but it doesn’t bother me that much. I soap up my loofah and go about cleaning myself up from the night before.
Last night was probably the hottest sex I’ve ever had in my life.
Knox is big everywhere, and he’s not afraid to put his size to good use. I can still feel the way he stretched me open with his cock, slamming it into my body over and over again.
It was fucking good.
For the first time in a long while, I truly felt the heat of arousal and desire. It was primal and undeniable. His hands on me left little bruises behind, and I look at them while I wash my body, savoring the proof of what happened.
After Hannah died and I was finally released from the men who held us captive, I spent a year in a numb fog. After everything that happened to us, and losing the only person I could really say I cared about, there wasn’t anything I wanted to do. I didn’t want anyone or anything to touch me.
Then, after my father died, when I made the vow and decided to wreak my bloody vengeance on the men who hurt me, it was like I came back to life.
Like the fog I’d been living in was suddenly gone, and I could see colors again. I wanted things again, even if it was mostly just to make the men who hurt me pay with their lives. But that was still better than existing in a haze where I was just going through the motions of survival.
Still, the person I came back as wasn’t the same person who effectively died during that year of numbness. That person doesn’t exist anymore, and trying to get her back is just a waste of time. You can’t do anything to change the past, after all. All you can do—allIcan do—is keep moving forward and keep staying on my path.
It’s like… in order to feel anything, I have to go to the furthest extreme. Soft and gentle just don’t do it for me. It may as well be nothing at that point. I’ve never found a guy who could please me, even though I’ve fucked several over the last five years.
It’s been a good outlet, and sometimes a good tool to get what I want.
Seducing some guy and making him think I don’t want anything in the world as much as I want his cock in me is a great way to get close to the men I wanted to kill. It opened doors that would have been closed otherwise, and got me in rooms I shouldn’t have been in, so I could do the only thing that really mattered to me anymore.
But with Knox, there was something different. He wasn’t a means to an end, even if the whole reason I’m here is basically a business transaction.
With Knox, it was intense as hell, and he made me come harder than I ever have before. He didn’t hold anything back. Not pleasure or pain, and the combination of it was enough to bring me to the edge. He was right there with me, too. Not detached and aloof, but feeling everything he was making me feel, as lost in it as I was.
It’s not something I’ll be able to forget anytime soon, even when the ache goes away and the cut and bruises heal—the memory of the way he fucked me, the way he put his hands on me, the way he kissed me to within an inch of my life will definitely linger.
And surprisingly, I think I’m okay with that. This whole arrangement still pisses me off, but when it’s all said and done and these guys are out of my life for good, I don’t think I’ll mind hanging on to that memory.
Once I’m clean, I get out of the shower and towel off before throwing on some clothes and heading downstairs.
It’s late enough in the morning that all the guys are in the kitchen. Priest has a plate of toast in front of him, and I’m surprised to see it’s not just dry bread. Knowing him, he’d hold himself back from having butter or jam or whatever, just on principle.
He sees me looking at his plate and gives me a flat, cold stare. It’s even more chilly than the ones he threw my way when I first showed up here. Clearly, he hates me.
Well, whatever.
“That’s a hell of a look,” I shoot at him, raising one eyebrow. “It’s not my fault that you’re stuck with me, remember? I don’t have to be here at all. All you have to do is let me go, and I’ll be out of your hair forever.”
“No,” Gage says, cutting in before Priest can either tell me to shut up or ignore me harder. “We have a deal, and you’re not getting out of it.”
“Sorry, River,” Ash says, laughing as he sips his coffee. “I guess you’re stuck with us until you finish your mission.”
