Page 93 of Darkened Promises

“So…fucking…perfect,” he praises, pushing slowly back in. He’s effectively pinning me to the bed with his hand on my throat and his other hand almost all the way inside me.

The annoyingly huge man has bear paws, and no matter how much I crave all of him inside me, I honestly don’t think he’ll be able to fit past the knuckles.

Glancing down, I stare at the sight of him on his knees between my thighs as he watches himself fist me. My core clenches, and a throaty whine falls from my lips. His eyes flick up to mine, pupils blown and almost black, then I look down to his tented shorts.

“No. You’re coming on my fist,” he growls.

He pulls his hand out almost entirely, then leans down and hovers over my pulsing, wet entrance. Mouth opening, he spits onto his fingers, then roughly shoves them back in. His knuckles thudding against me, and I moan loudly.

“More,” I pant as I reach my hands up to cup my breasts and grip them tightly.

“Rub your needy clit, or I need my other hand to do it,” he instructs, squeezing my neck lightly.

Instinctively my hand darts down my stomach, and I rub quick circles, too pent up and close to build it up any slower. Nate’s spent enough time with his fingers stroking and brushing up against the sensitive part inside me that I’m so close.

My head tilts back, mouth falling open as all the cells in my body light up, sparking a thick, intense heat.

“Yes, yes,” I pant, frantically rubbing myself as I grind against Nate’s hand.

“So fucking greedy. So perfect taking my hand. Come for me and drench it,” Nate groans loudly.

His fingers inside me quicken, and the wet suction is loud, but I’m too close to the edge to let embarrassment take over. His palm tightens around my neck, at the same time he brushes against something electric inside, just as my fingers hit the perfect pressure. My muscles squeeze around Nate’s fist, desperate to hold on to him, and my body implodes. The sound I make is animalistic as I fall right off the edge.

Once my body finally stops shuddering, he slowly eases out of me, and the emptiness has a shiver prickling over my skin. Nate holds up his glistening hand, and his expression turns feral with pride as mine just winces in embarrassment now the haze has lifted. My cheeks heat, and a squeak falls from me as he licks up the mess, one finger at a time.

“Sorry, um… Here, use this?” I scramble up, grab the towel from the end of the bed, and hold it out to him.

“No. This is mine,” he says, leaning away, almost as if he thinks I’m going to take it away from him.

“Okay?” I reply, hiding my smile at his possessiveness. “What about you?”

His eyes flash. “I got what I wanted.”

That’s it? He gave me a mind-blowing climax and spent however long fingering—fisting—me and all he wants in return is to lick my…er, ending.

“Oh. Um… Well, take your time?”

He sucks his pinkie finger, watching me as he does it, and I fight to not twist my legs together and squirm.

What in the holy crapsicles is this?

FORTY-SIX

ROSY

Have I been lulled into a false sense of security these past couple of days? Probably. But I’ve felt good, better even. If you ignore the fact I still can’t sleep alone at night and have bad nightmares.

After things progressed with Nate a few days ago, and I’d spoken to the others, it felt easier. Not to say we’ve all jumped into having sex or anything; I still need things slightly slower. Although, I’m open to more happening if it does.

They’ve been…more intimate. Soft touches. Lingering kisses. Heated smiles. They’re treating me less like a fragile victim and more like me. And I need that.

I don’t want to be reminded every minute of every day of how broken and fragile I am, and I can’t forget it if it’s reflected in their gaze every time one of them looks at me.

Now they look at me with heated, flirty eyes, and I want that. It makes me feel desired and wanted but completely in control of my decisions and choices. I know they’d never take something I don’t offer freely, and the way they touch me is…full of love.

My body doesn’t flinch from their hands, it doesn’t curl in on itself whenever they reach out, and it doesn’t retreat when their skin touches mine.

This fresh resolve bolsters me, and it’s trickling into other parts of my life. I finally decide I’m ready to go to the rescue again. The police are still out there looking, and we’ve not heard anything from him, so my hope is that he’s hiding somewhere far, far away.