I watch with complete confusion as he walks around to the other side of the bed, and removes his shirt. I feel my lips part, and suddenly they feel dry. His body is amazing. He has a tattoo across the top of his back, and one down the side of his ribs. Otherwise, his skin is clean and perfect. He lowers his pants until he’s wearing only his boxers, and he climbs into the bed beside me.
Why is he doing this?
“Axel?” I whisper.
“Hush,” he orders, and moves closer to me, so our bodies are just touching.
I’m pretty sure he’s lost his mind.
I wait, sure he’s going to realize what he’s done and throw me out, but instead, his breathing becomes deep, and I realize he’s drifting off to sleep. The moonlight from the window behind his bed shines in, illuminating him, and he looks so breathtaking it makes my heart ache for him. He’s beautiful in the kind of way most people aren’t. His beauty is dark and broken.
I feel my eyes growing heavy, and I fight to stay awake, scared to fall asleep next to a man who I know hates me. I can’t fight it, though. After days of being on the hard floor, the soft mattress is heaven. It’s those little things you take for granted, and sooner than I know, my eyes are closed, and my own breathing is becoming shallow. I yawn, and find myself sinking into the pillows. Maybe I’ll give in...just for one night.
“Fucking stop!”
I hear the pained bellow beside me, and I jerk awake. What the hell? I feel Axel’s body thrash beside me, and I turn my head to see him convulsing in the bed. His jaw is tight, and his body is covered in sweat. His back is arching, and...oh...oh my God. He’s got his fingers wrapped around his cock, and he’s stroking, hard and fast.
“Don’t,” he growls. “Don’t cry, I’m fuckin’ sorry...”
His hand works faster, and my eyes widen. I can’t move my eyes from the thick length in his hand. He has four piercings going around the base of his head, and his shaft is thick, long, and straining. I bite my lip, but his cries have my eyes moving back up to his face. Something is destroying him. A dream. Something dark inside his soul.
“Don’t make her,” he roars. “Don’t...oh God...”
“Axel?” I whisper softly, knowing that you’re really not supposed to wake people during a nightmare.
I reach over with my free hand, and I place it on his chest. His skin is smooth and bronze, and it’s covered in a fine layer of sweat. His hair is stuck to his forehead, and I can hear his teeth grinding, he’s got his jaw so tense. His hand works faster, and the muscles in his arms strain and pull. I run my hand over his chest, feeling the tension there.
“Axel,” I whisper again.
He groans when my fingers glide over his skin again. His hand is jerking so hard that his body is bowing.
“Axel,” I say, a little louder.
“Fight me, goddammit, fight,” he moans throatily.
Fight? What is he dreaming about that would involve fighting and...sex? I hate to think of the reasons why he might be so traumatized, and I know, whatever it is, it’s not simple. I can see it in his eyes when he looks at me. He’s empty. I move my hand down his belly further, and he groans deeper. “Yes, oh, God, yes.”
I clench my legs together, and guilt swells in my chest. He’s having a nightmare, I should be waking him up, not touching him...but it seems to soothe him. His body isn’t rigid anymore, and his hand has slowed down. I move my hand in a small circle over his belly, feeling the hard bulges of muscles beneath my palm. His body relaxes even further.
“Please,” he rasps.
Is he awake? I peer over, and see his eyes are still closed. I slide my hand further down, biting my lip as I feel his hand graze mine. I also catch a feel of the silky head of his cock sliding past my hand as he slowly jerks it. Guilt swells in me again, and I shake my head, pulling my hand back. What the hell am I doing? What sort of sick am I?
Axel’s hand lashes out suddenly, and he takes my wrist, pulling my hand back. I flinch, and struggle against him.
“Yes,” he rasps. “Fight me.”
Is he still asleep? I don’t know. I can’t tell. I pull my hand again, and he groans. He likes me fighting him. I feel a bolt of pleasure shoot right into my pussy at the thought of that. I don’t understand it, and I’m not even sure I want to. I can’t face that I might be as crazy fucked up as this man is. He tugs my hand toward his cock, and I squirm beside him.
“God, yes,” he says with a ragged breath.
He puts my hand against his cock, and I feel the pulsing length against my fingers. It’s rock-hard and warm from his own hand working it. He twists my wrist, and places my hand around his cock. I curl my fingers around the length, and I squeeze. He hisses, and his back arches. Oh God. I shouldn’t be doing this. What if he’s still asleep? That would make me twisted...
Wouldn’t it?
He wraps his hand around mine, and he begins stroking, up and down, using both our hands. The pulsing between my legs is verging on being painful, and I so desperately want to release the pressure. Axel begins moving our hands fast, and his back starts arching again. I smother a moan as his cock tightens in my hand.
“Fuck, oh God, fuck,” he roars as the first spurt of his release hits his belly. I watch the white strands settle there, and more pleasure shoots to my groin. I squeeze and then release, and a warm trickle slides down my hand.
God, this is so wrong. So wrong.
When I feel Axel’s cock beginning to soften, I try to move my hand but his grip tightens. Oh God...he’s awake?
“Axel?” I whisper.
He doesn’t answer me, and it’s then I notice his breathing is deeper again. Oh. My. God. He’s asleep. He’s...not...awake. I try to gently pull my hand away, but he won’t let it go. He moves our hands off his cock and up onto his chest, and there he holds my hand, refusing to release me. I realize it’s comforting him somehow.
So I close my eyes, and I let him keep it.
CHAPTER 8
AXEL
I’ll haunt you right until the end, you’ll never escape me, my friend.
I shift, and groan. That’s when I feel the warm flesh in my hand. I open my eyes, and turn my head to see Meadow cuffed to my bed. I’ve got her hand firmly in mine, and it’s pressed to my chest. What. The. Fuck? I slowly uncurl my fingers, and she groans, turning her head and letting her lips part with sleep. She’s so fuckin’ perfect.
I move my hand¸ and it swipes through something damp. My heart stammers and I look down to see a damp patch of seamen on my belly. What...the...hell? I move quickly after that, jerking out of the bed and stumbling as I land incorrectly and go crashing into the bedside table. Where are my fuckin’ pants? Oh fuck. I had a nightmare. I put her in my bed, and I had a nightmare. Fuck...I came on her.
I storm into the bathroom, but not before glimpsing her on the bed, eyes open, watching me. Nothing is showing on her face: it’s blank and emotionless. Maybe she was asleep when...it...happened? I glare at her, and then I slam the bathroom door, and start shoving things off the counter, sending them smashing onto the floor.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I grip the sink and drop my head, panting. Why the fuck would I pull her onto the bed? Why the fuck would I do something so stupid? God, I was probably high. I don’t remember how last night went down. I went out, I had a few drinks, a joint, and then I woke up with her in my bed. Fuck. I lift my hands and tangle my fingers in my hair and pull. The sharp pain snaps me back into reality.
No more.
I tuck my knees up to my chest and peer at the bathroom door, wondering what he’s breaking in there. I’ve heard things smashing, I’ve heard him cursing, and then it all fell silent. Did he realize what he did? Did he remember? It’s obviously affecting him quite badly, so maybe it’s best if I play dumb, and don’t let him know that I was fully aware of what happened.
I hear the bathroom door creak open, and he walks out, bare-chested. I feel my eyes widen slightly, hating that I want to look, yet not being able to stop myself. I slowly move my eyes down his body, then back up again until I meet his seething eyes. He’s angry, again. It’s nothing new to me, but I thought...I guess I’d hoped...God, what was I hoping? That he would wake up after last night and feel something? I’m a fool. That was never going to happen.
“Thank you for letting me sleep in your bed,” I say meekly. “I had the best sleep. I didn’t move all night.”
It’s a lie, but I see instant relief flood his features. He replaces it quickly and nods his head harshly before leaning down and taking hold of a black shirt. Then he turns and storms out the door, slamming it loudly. Well, that went well. I lean back against the headboard and pull the cuffs. They’re not going anywhere, and neither am I. Sighing, I close my eyes and lean my head back.
I just want answers. I need to know what happened to my dad that day. I need to know why Axel did it, and I need to know what the information on that USB stick is. I can’t keep running around in circles, but until Axel is willing to speak to me, I just can’t give in. So I’ll continue to sit here, cold, starving, and empty while I wait for one of us to break.
It’s not going to be me.
It’s never me.
CHAPTER 9
MEADOW
Your words won’t break me, for you will never take me.
I hear the door creak, and I snap my head up. I blink rapidly, trying to get the sleep blur from my vision. I see Colt step in, and his eyes dart around the room before falling on me. He gives me a sympathetic smile, and slowly walks in, stopping at the end of the bed.
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