Page 77 of The Rising


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Stunned, I stare at him. My anger hasn’t subsided from his words. It’s multiplied. This fucking world. Our fucking lives. Why?Why, why, why?When will the blows stop coming? To James, I am nothing but stress and helplessness. I don’t even let him fuck me how I know he likes to fuck anymore.

He turns his face away from me. “We’re fine,” he says, letting whoever’s come to check on us know that we’re still alive. And the second he’s facing me again, I let my anger out in another way. I’m on him like a starving wolf, kissing him like I might not ever again, gripping his hair harshly. And he accepts.

I climb his body, wrap my legs around his waist, pull him as close as I can get him, my hands fisting his hair, my mouth relentless on his. My tongue circles and whips, frenzied and fast, an unbearable throb hitting me between my legs.

“Are you hard?” I gasp over my words, releasing one hand and feeling around his crotch, hearing his moan as I stroke over his erection. “I want you to fuck me. Hard. Tie me up and fuck me.” I need that. Him. All over me. I need to be taken back to the beginning and reminded.

He pushes me into the wall, his tongue merciless in my mouth. “Everything was in my apartment.”

His apartment that was blown up. And he hasn’t replaced anything, because he’s either been too busy, out of the country, or he thinks dirty, filthy, debased fucking shouldn’t feature in our relationship anymore.

Well, I need it. Clearly. I need that sense of freedom, to be taken away from this life. “Fix it,” I order, and he nods as our kiss continues, not slowing, not softening. “I can’t wait.”

He breaks away and heaves in my face as he walks to the car, puts me down, and opens the passenger door of his Range Rover. He turns me around, bends me over the seat, and yanks up my dress, my panties aside, and I yelp, my fingers clawing into the leather seats. Two fingers sink into me on a groan from him and a moan from me.

“Drenched,” he growls, removing them, leveling up, and ramming into me.

“Shit!” The fullness sates me immediately. Calms the animal inside. Lightens the darkness. Cools the burn in my veins. I sigh and settle against the seat, eyes open, staring at the back of the chair. I already know this is going to be a ruthless fuck. Angry. I’m here for it.

I close my eyes, breath in deeply, relax further, and sink into myself, letting him pound into me like a man possessed, yelling, frantic, chaotic.

And me?

I’m at peace. Calm. I needed this more than I knew. Needed James. I am taken away from the world I’m struggling in, into a place I thrive.

Being James’s. Possessed by him. Owned by him. Cured by him. He was right. We’ll never be done. I cannot live without this. Us.

He strikes harder, grabbing my hair and pulling it. The pain travels through my body and hits me hard between my legs. “I’m going to come,” I say calmly but loud enough for him to hear, and he bellows, pounding harder, yanking harder, breathing harder.

“Fuck!” He withdraws, circles, and pounds into me one last time, grinding on a moan, and I come, so hard but so serene, the pleasure rolling through me, dowsing the anger that ruled me only a few moments ago. I feel his heat flood me. His grip releases, and he massages my scalp as he circles his hips. “Are you okay?” he asks, wheezing.

I don’t answer, pushing my hands into the leather and standing, inhaling when he slips out of me. I feel him trickle down my leg, and I wonder... did any stay inside of me? Enough? And would my body accept it?

I feel him pull my panties into place and my dress down, before turning me to face him. His jeans hang open, and I help fix him while he watches me intently. He eventually lifts my chin with a finger so I’m looking at him. “I told you once never to question my love for you. Today you questioned it. Who sent you that picture?”

And just like that, my serenity is lost, and I am back in a world I can’t cope with today. “You know who sent me that picture.”

The hollows of his cheeks pulse. “I told you to block his number.”

“And I ignored you.” I move away, out of his reach. “Why was that woman all over you?”

He closes his eyes, gathering patience. “She’s been calling me. I assumed she and Darren wanted to play. I ignored her. She showed up tonight. It’s rather convenient that Burrows was here too, don’t you think?”

“So it’s his fault you had another woman hanging off you?” Is he saying Ollie set him up?

“I’ve handled it.”

“You sure did,” I breathe, laughing under my breath.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m going home.” I pull at my dress to straighten it. “Fury can take me.”

“Are you saying Ican’ttake you?”

“I’m saying I can’t be around you right now.”

“I was just inside you, Beau. Fucking you. Andnowyou can’t be around me?”

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