Sated Surrender
Defeated by force, renewed by surprise
His fight was his virtue, his anger his vice
Still holding a grudge, he found himself sated,
Giving into her was ultimately fated
Kingston
I despised her.
I despised the fact that her words still ripped my heart apart.
I despised how she acted so unaware, so guileless, and so aloof about what she’d done. Did nothing we’d shared in the past mean anything to her at all? Had she ever cared? Had she ever felt for me the way I had for her?
I grabbed the little shard of glass embedded in my sole and pulled it out, welcoming the pain. It distracted me from the events of this evening. It made me forget, for a moment, how powerless and out of control I’d become when it came to Vienna.
I cleaned the wound before I put on the bandage. The pain helped, but I needed more. I needed a drink, I needed to drown, and I needed to forget. Ignoring the pain, I walked up to the bar, pushing away the echo of her concern that reverberated around me. I hated her caring for me; I hated everything related to her.
The memory of our kiss flooded my mind as I grabbed a bottle of scotch, pulling me back into the voodoo she had over me. My cock swelled, remembering her taste on my lips. My fingers fisted over the bottle, curbing the urge to reconstruct the curves of her body in my mind. I wanted to fuck her; I wanted to punish her for all she’d made me go through.
I took a big gulp straight from the bottle. My throat burned at the abuse, my body recoiled at so much alcohol. I hadn’t drunk this much in years, except on special occasions, but ever since Vienna’s return, I had succumbed to this ugly vice. Taking another big gulp, I allowed the liquid poison to drown me in its daze. With every drop of alcohol that eased into my blood, my body raged with pent-up hurt.
I needed an outlet.
I needed her.
As the alcohol seeped into me, I limped up to the phone by my bed and called the reception desk. I wasn’t drunk, not even close, but I was awake and no longer willing to fight with myself.
“Good evening, Mr. Sharp. How may I help you?” The sweet coo of the lady on the reception filled the phone.
“I need the room number for my employee, Ms. Roy.”
“Certainly, let me look it up. She was just here a few minutes ago. We had her purse.”
I didn’t care about small talk.
“Room 933. Is there anything else I can assist you with?”
“No, thank you.” I put the phone down and walked out of my room toward the elevator. Nothing at this point fought with my conviction.
My control had snapped. She’d done it, and now it was she who would have to listen, who would have to take a piece of my mind.
Twelve floors down, I walked up to her door and knocked.
On the third knock, she opened, still dressed in the same clothes. “Mr. Sharp?” Shock filled her eyes, unable to hide the array of conflicting emotions running through them.
I walked past her, into her room, and turned.
She stood right by the door, leaning on it, her hand still on the doorknob, confusion, and fear, and a hint of anger eclipsing her gaze.
Silence buffeted around us like a heavy cloak as we stared at each other, fear merging with rage as our gazes held and waited to see who would win.
I took a step toward her, intimidating her. It was my turn now.
She’d ruined me, taken everything I valued away from me, and it was only fair she paid for her actions.
I took another step, and she pressed against the door. She was afraid.
Good.
I wanted to intimidate her into dropping the pretense, this bullshit façade where she acted like we hadn’t once meant everything to each other…unless, perhaps that had all been one-sided.
Her gaze faltered as mine bored into her.
I masked the pain I felt with every step I took; the cut had been deep, but not as deep as the pain she’d inflicted.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I’m sorry for talking to you the way I did back there. I should’ve… I just don’t know what happened to me. I should’ve been thanking you for your help.”
That wasn’t what I needed her to acknowledge and apologize for. “Shut up.” I took another step toward her, my arms carefully tucked into my pajama pockets, my voice sharp and menacing.
She shuddered, pressing against the door even more.
“You’ve talked enough, now it’s my turn.”
She gulped as I got a little closer. Only a foot separated us. Only a foot saved her from my building rage. Only a foot.
“I said I was s-sorry,” she stuttered.
I didn’t care. I was done caring. I wanted to see her heart bleed; I wanted to inflict the same pain she’d inflicted on me.
“You’re nothing but an unwanted disease that corrodes one’s body, mind, and soul, taking with it everything that’s valuable to that person. I want to cut out the tumor that’s you and burn it into nonexistence.”
With every word I said, her eyes drowned in unshed tears. My words did precisely what I’d expected them to do; they ripped her apart. I could see her shattering right in front of me. I continued. “You are—”
“Stop. Please stop,” she begged, right as the first teardrops escaped from her eyes, breaking my heart.
But I was done being weak. I no longer allowed her to have power over me. So I sharpened my words even more. “You know why I didn’t let you mend me? Because you can’t mend. You only know how to break things. You’re the one who inflicts the pain. You cause it, you damage things.”
“Please, Kingston, stop.” She shut her eyes and cried out. Her entire body shook as she sobbed, her hands not leaving the doorknob, clinging to it as if it were the only thing keeping her standing.
I took a step closer, warring between the part of me that still loved her and the part that had been scorned by her. I’d come here wanting to show her what she’d done to me, and how it would’ve felt to be left all alone, without reasons or answers. I’d come here to find my peace, but instead, every word I said pricked me as much as it pricked her.
I wanted to stop, but I was too far into this realm of rage. “Beg all you want, but it doesn’t matter to me anymore. Everything you’re getting you deserve. Every word I’m saying is true.”
“Stop, stop, stop. I don’t want to hear this.” She pushed away from the door and tried walking past me, but I grabbed her hand and shoved her against the wall.
“You’re not running away this time,” I growled. Not until I’m done telling you what I need to tell you.”
“You’re not telling me anything, you’re just being cruel! Why are you doing this to me?” She cried trying to free her hands. “What have I ever done to you?”
What was I doing?
“Please let me go.” She struggled in my grip, but I didn’t let her go.
“Don’t you dare act innocent, Ms. Vienna Roy—you know exactly what you’ve done. You’re the worst thing that’s happened to me. You ruined my life, took away my sanity, and ripped everything I ever loved into a million tiny pieces.”
“Shut up,” she screamed, putting in all her strength and pushing against my chest.
But I didn’t budge.
“Let me go. You have no right to keep me captive in your arms. Let go of me.” She struggled even more, pushing my anger to its brink.
I caught her by the waist and squeezed her into my chest, my free hand grabbing both her wrists and twisting them behind her back. I made her look into my eyes.
“You’re the one full of bullshit, Ms. Roy. Everything you’ve done is bullshit. This lost, confused demeanor of yours is bullshit. This damsel in distress act is bullshit. Your pleas and cries are bullshit.”
“I’m telling you one last time, let me go.”
“Or what, Ms. Roy?” I challenged.
She silently stared at me for a second, before lunging forward and biting my shoulder. “Or that,” she snapped, pushing herself free of my grasp in the split second that I was shocked and loosened my grip. “Now get out of my room.”
She’d fucking bitten me.
Did she not know what that did to me?
She screamed as I grabbed her hair and hauled her body against mine.
I didn’t care. My control had betrayed me.
She undid me.
I’d never been an aggressive man. I’d never been violent or ever mistreated a woman. I was always in control of my emotions, but she’d ripped it all apart when she bit me. All bets were off now.
The fear in her eyes was replaced by conviction.
She wasn’t afraid of me.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Ms. Roy,” I said menacingly.
“I did exactly what I wanted to do.” She smirked at me.
I tightened my grip on her hair, and she flinched but didn’t say a word. She was challenging me.
I pushed harder. Her body was flush with mine. She was on her tiptoes, trying to ease the pull in her hair, but she didn’t succumb. Her chest heaved against mine. Her proximity and the alcohol were creating havoc in my mind. Add her defiance and fight, and I barely stood a chance.
For a second, I wanted to smile. There she was, the Vienna I knew. Fiery and unafraid. Gone was the girl pleading for me to let her go. No, this girl was stubborn and unwilling to bend, just the way I knew her to be, just the way she’d been when I’d fallen for her.
“Let go or I’ll bite again.”
“Dare, and you’ll see what I can do.”
“What, you’ll kiss me into surrender?” She smirked.
I glared. “You don’t want to know.”
“Oh, but I do,” she goaded. Her fingers flexed on my chest where her hands were trapped, passing electric jolts up my body as her nails bit into my skin.
“Apologize.” I tugged harder, pulling her closer, twisting her hands in mine, punishing her.
Her eyes shot daggers at me. “You’re an asshole, Mr. Sharp, and I regret kissing you. I regret meeting you. I regret even feeling attracted to you. You’re a douche who doesn’t even know how to reciprocate a kiss, let alone do anything beyond that. Now, fucking let me go! I have nothing to apologize to you for, except for the fact that I ever had a thing for you.”
The last thread of my resolve snapped, and my lips crashed into hers.
Feral and rough, I bit her swelling lips, my tongue barging through her resistance and warring with her tongue. She kissed me back, and I no longer cared about my control; I no longer cared about the consequences of my actions.
Her words had set my hesitations free, her constant push and pull, her continuous personality changes had fucked with my mind enough. I was done fighting this attraction for her.
My kiss bruised her ego.
The way her body reacted to mine was indication enough how much I affected her.
My hands sank into her scalp as I pulled her in close, possessively exploring the curves of her waist, moving up to the swell of her breasts, cupping them.
She moaned, and her hands escaped from between us as she ran her fingers through my hair, tugging it, imitating my gesture.
I wasn’t gentle, and neither was she.
This was a war, not foreplay; it was punishment, not pleasure.
But it was also primal passion.
I no longer cared about her apology; I only cared about breaking her in the best possible way.
I squeezed her nipple, and she cried out in my mouth, giving me a chance to bite her lip.
She moaned, her hands moving about my body, free of her control.
Breath by breath, my kiss became ours as she kissed me back with fervor, her hips pushing into mine.
I grabbed her ass and lifted her, walking toward the bed, never once breaking the kiss. I could feel her struggle between sanity and insatiability as I dropped her on the bed, realizing what was about to happen.
It didn’t matter. I wanted to fuck her.
I wanted to rip apart her clothes and leave her naked in every sense. I wanted to thrust my constantly growing cock into her heat and fuck her into oblivion. I wanted her to surrender to what she felt for me.
I broke the kiss as she fell on the bed.
Dazed eyes blinked open and looked into mine.
She was almost mine again.
I stared back, pulling off my t-shirt. “You had your chance,” I whispered, closing the gap between our bodies. “Now it’s mine.”