218

Growl Growl knew she was watching him from his room.
He had seen her at the window. This was eroding his control. He could no longer think of anything but her body.
Growl returned to the house after an intense hour-long workout , but he still did not feel that it had calmed him down. He went to the bathroom and grabbed a towel to wipe off his sweat.
A sound caught his attention. He approached Cara’s room. The noise came from inside. She seemed to be moaning.
Growl slowly lowered the towel, his groin twitching.
He reached over and leaned his ear against the door. Again, a groan, low and prolonged. Growl closed his eyes. He was touching himself because of her. He had no doubt about it.
Fuck. He felt himself harden at the mere idea of what was going on behind that closed door.
Why was he still standing there? He grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. He made sure to be as quiet as possible. He did not want her to notice him right away . He looked inside and could not believe his eyes.
She was not even awake. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was too shallow. He entered as he watched one of her hands move between her legs.
Her lips were slightly parted and another moan slipped out. Growl dropped the towel and walked over to the bed. Damn, he was not a good man, and she was making it damn difficult for him. He could practically smell her arousal, or her mind was already starting to trick him.
Growl perched on the bed, careful not to wake her. But he shouldn’t have worried. She was lost in her dream. She squirmed, then spread her legs under the blanket. Growl stifled a groan at the sight. He reached for the edge of the blanket and slowly pulled it down to her knees. She was wearing a nightgown that had come up to her hips, and she put her bare pussy on him. He inhaled deeply as he watched one of her slender fingers slowly slide over his lower lips. It was the first time he had seen her pussy. It was not shaved like the prostitute he had had in the past. She had shaved, but soft brown hairs covered her straddle. His cock was so hard that Growl was surprised that it had not exploded yet. Perhaps this would be the first time Growl would come in his pants. She mewed again, needy, but his touch did not seem to take her any farther. Growl realized his touch was unexercised.
Damn. He was tired of resisting when it was so obvious that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
He leaned over her, letting her intoxicating scent flood his nostrils. He gave her swollen lips a long lick, and her taste was so sweet it drove him crazy. She shuddered and moaned loudly. Growl could take no more. He pushed her hand away and slipped his tongue between her lips.
He licked her tight hole and slowly worked his way up to the little lump at the top. She moaned and then stiffened. She was awake, but Growl was determined not to let her mind take over . He pulled her clit into his mouth and sucked in a gentle rhythm.
She inhaled sharply. The tension in her body remained, but she did not push him away or say anything. She was conflicted, she could tell. Growl used all his skills to coax her . He let her clit slowly slide out of his lips and began to draw soft circles before licking its way back to her narrow channel.
“We can’t do this,” she said shakily, but there was almost no conviction in her voice, and that was all she needed. He licked her harder, plunged his tongue inside her, then sucked her clit again. She cried out and so came already, flooding his mouth with her sweetness. He did not stop. This had only been the first battle. He continued to lick her, then tongue-fucked her again. He did not give her time to recover. He slipped a finger inside her. She was so wet that she barely met resistance.
His cock was almost flayed from rubbing against his pants, but he needed more time for her. He needed to prepare her for what was to come. There was no stopping this time.
Darling, I could barely breathe. My body was burning, my pulse was racing. Everything seemed so incredibly intense. Growl was practically buried in my lap, licking, kissing and sucking. I was so close to my second orgasm. His hand slipped under my nightgown and up to my breasts. His fingers closed around my nipple and twitched, and so another wave washed over me, even stronger than before.
What was going on? I could not grasp a clear thought.
I barely noticed that he had taken off his clothes and only realized what was going to happen when he squatted over me. I wasn’t ready for this, I never would be. I had to stop him , I had to end this before it was too late.
He climbed between my legs, opening them. His eyes stared into mine. I could not move, could not say or do anything. I had dreaded this moment when Falcone had given me to Growl and now it was happening, but it was so different from what I had imagined.
And then he began to thrust into me, and I clung to him tightly, my fingers digging into the inky skin of his upper arms. He was tearing me apart. He didn’t slow down, didn’t stop.
But he looked into my face. He bared me with his gaze in so many ways. Wasn’t it enough that I was lying naked under him? Was he supposed to rip the protections off my soul, was he supposed to make me feel even more vulnerable than I already was? I gasped. He was hurting. In so many ways. Was this what it felt like to be lost?
My body was giving out, yet I was tearing myself apart. Not physically, though I longed for my inner turmoil to manifest itself in physical ways. The pain was not enough. Not this pain, not when it mixed with hints of pleasure. I wanted to lower my eyelids, I wanted to blot out the world around and the man above me, but I kept my eyes open, kept looking at that striking face of my captor, my owner and now lover. Hate should have been at the forefront of my mind, but it was not. It was still there, still strong, but it was struggling with other emotions. Emotions I did not want to feel.
Compassion and understanding. Gratitude for his near-kindness and even hints of pity.
With each thrust, Growl seemed to rip a piece out of me. I wasn’t just losing my innocence, I seemed to be losing parts of me, of what had made me me.
Then stop it. Do it, while there is still something of you left. My nails dug deeper into Growl’s arms and he grunted, his eyes flashing with pleasure. He was enjoying it.
And in turn my body buzzed with joy. He never slowed down , never took his eyes off me. His muscular chest glistened with sweat. The pain gave way to something warmer, something that made my body vibrate more than any sting. I ran my fingers over Growl’s shoulders, scratching, leaving a red path in my path, and savoring it, and in the drops of blood that dotted the spot where I clung to him.
Growl began to tremble and emitted a groan before falling onto the mattress beside me.
Red crescent-shaped marks dotted his arms, evidence of what had happened. Not evidence of a struggle, of endurance, of a struggle. Not evidence of what should have been.
I could take no consolation from those marks. They were not signs of my reluctance, of a valiant struggle against Growl’s hold on me. No, I had let him conquer me, even enjoyed it. What was wrong with me? How had I allowed this to happen?
I could only imagine what Trish and Anastasia would have said if they saw me now. They would have been shocked and disgusted, and they would have talked about it for days. But they didn’t matter , not anymore.
But Mother and Thalia did. And they would have judged me just as well if they had known. How could they not? How could anyone not condemn me for what I had allowed Growl to do?
“Was that how I felt when I was lost?” That question was still buzzing in my head, but now another question had been added to the mix, one that scared me even more. “How could you get lost if you never had a chance to find yourself?” I dismissed the thought, chased away the myriad thoughts crowding my brain. I could take no more. Growl lay panting beside me. His face looked relaxed, empty, more than ever, as if through the carnal act of sex he had managed to free himself, had managed to cast out whatever demons were haunting him.
It would not be the last time. And I was not horrified by the idea. Despite the pain, and even the throbbing pain between my legs, I wanted him again. I allowed myself that moment of realization. The damage was done.
I had nothing more to lose. Growl sat down and dangled his legs over the edge of the bed. I sat down, too. Was he already leaving after what we had just done?
Growl peered over his shoulder at me, and now his gaze on my bare skin did not make my body vibrate with joy and triumph. I pulled the blankets over my chest, clinging to the cool fabric as I had clung to Growl’s strong arms only minutes before. I did not express my questions, not wanting to seem desperate and needy, especially when he was the last person I should have needed. For a moment we both seemed frozen, but then I looked away under the power of my shame and Growl stood up. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him pick up his clothes from the floor, but he did not bother to get dressed. Instead he went out and started to close the door, but stopped.
“There’s something for the pain in the bathroom.”
He paused and I waited for him to say something else, but then he simply closed the door. I waited for his footsteps to fade away before freeing myself from the covers and quickly slipping out of bed. I couldn’t bear to be in it now. It was damp from our sweat and smelled of sex. I lowered my gaze to the white sheets. At the sight of the little pink spot I let out a shuddering breath. Betrayal came in so many shapes and sizes.
Sometimes it was a deliberate act, sometimes it was something you let happen.
Growl drank several long sips of cold water. Even now his body seemed to be seething with lust. His orgasm had not diminished his desire for Cara one iota. Not because the sex had not been satisfying, although that was true as well. He had had stronger orgasms, he had had better sex, but whatever had happened between him and Cara had been the most intense thing he had ever experienced. It didn’t even make sense.
She wasn’t someone who could satiate his hunger, and she wasn’t someone he would usually choose to quench his desire, and yet right that fucking second he couldn’t imagine being with another woman. He wanted Cara, he wanted to see if he could bring her out of her shell, make her more sassy and demanding. He wanted to release her hunger. She tried to hide it but that night she had caught flashes of it and wanted more.
Before Cara, he had been content with what he had, with the cards he had been dealt, but she made him want more and that was not exactly safe in his world.
What was she doing to him?
Cara’s door opened and closed. Silently. She didn’t want him to hear so often when she broke in. But if life had taught him anything, it was vigilance. There was not a sound that escaped him.
His steps were cautious and then stopped and another door opened and closed. Growl took another sip of water and was about to put it back in the refrigerator and go to bed, but then the shower opened. He was taking a shower.
He never showered right after sex. He liked the smell and the sticky feeling. He liked to be reminded of what he had done. But women always like things to be clean, at least women like Cara. The prostitutes he usually dealt with also showered , of course, but it was for practical reasons. They couldn’t go around smelling like the last toilet when the next customer would come in.
Growl stiffened. Another sound disturbed the monotonous lapping of water. Hiccups. He turned away from the kitchen counter and strided down the hallway, stopping in front of the bathroom door. The sobbing was a low sound, meant to be drowned out by the shower. It was not meant for him. Cara was crying.
Growl reached for the door handle, his fingers gripping the cold metal until his bones ached from the pressure. He let go of her and took a step back. Why was he crying?
Anger surged through him, burning hotter than his lust. He turned on his heels and stomped away from the sound of her tears and did not stop until he was out on the porch. Both dogs had followed him and were now watching him with curious eyes.
Growl clenched his fists and stared up at the night sky. He had never found that sight calming or even stimulating. To Growl it had always seemed too vast, too uncertain. Something she could not control or understand, even begin to.
Dear, she too was like the night sky. As beautiful as she was, there was no doubt about it.
He could control her, at least physically, but what was happening behind that perfect face was completely beyond his grasp. His brain worked in ways that hers would never be able to. He liked simple things. Not complicated. She was anything but . Understanding her, something he would never do.
His eyes found the door. If he had walked in now, would she still have cried? “Fuck,” he growled and kicked the ground. Both Coco and Bandit jumped back and looked at him circumspectly. Anger was something he was familiar with, something he even found comforting. But that night it did not make him feel any better. He was angry at her, but he could not unleash his fury on her. No, he could, but he wouldn’t.
And that made things worse.
She had enjoyed herself. He had seen her enjoy herself.
Her body had reacted to him. She had moaned, given herself over to pleasure. And now she was crying.
He was angry with himself, too. He shouldn’t have cared less about his feelings. He had heard people cry before, heard them beg and scream in terror. What was a woman crying about ? Nothing. But that did not diminish his anger. He kicked the ground again. Coco hid behind the chairs and Bandit stepped back even further.
He knelt down and made a reassuring cry.
His dogs had never been afraid of him. After a moment’s hesitation, first Coco and then Bandit came up to him and clung to his body. He stroked them for a long time and eventually some of the fire under his skin went out. That’s why he preferred the company of dogs. They were not complicated. They would show you what they were feeling.
He got up and went back into the house. He would not let anything or anyone chase him out of his own home. Coco and Bandit followed him closely. Growl closed the terrace door, then listened. The shower was no longer running. He waited another moment, but all was silent. No sobbing, nothing . Coco turned away and trotted to Cara’s door, sniffing before she sat down. Growl sighed. Above all, Coco had grown fond of Cara, but even Bandit, who had never liked anyone, seemed to appreciate the woman’s presence.
Growl walked toward Coco and listened even more carefully, but silence reigned behind the door. He grabbed the handle and, before he could stop himself, pushed it down and opened the door. His eyes found the bed where Cara lay curled up, her legs pressed against her chest. Her face was turned away, and when he was honest with himself, he was grateful. He did not want to see her face streaked with tears. Her breathing was regular and she had not stiffened when the light had come in. She was really sleeping.
That did not make him feel any better. He should not have felt anything at that sight.