CHAPTER 10

Isobel

“And fuck me.”

God, I wanted it more than my next breath. Beyond all reason and sense of sanity, I wanted sex with a man who’d make it his mission to see to my needs as much as his own. I didn’t have to be Isobel Marcello any longer, and maybe Brock was right, the alcohol was clouding my judgment, but the knowledge left me with a sense of freedom I hadn’t experienced in years.

Brock lifted a brow. “If we’re just fucking, why bother going upstairs? I can just bend you over the couch.”

I moved my leg up and over to straddle his lap. “Because I’m guessing you have some fun locked upstairs in that bedroom of yours and I want to see it.”

Brock had always been adventurous in bed, looking for new and different ways to get us both off. There was no way he hadn’t ventured farther down that path, especially if the rumors were to be believed.

His eyes flicked up to the ceiling and back to me. “What makes you think that?”

“Whether or not you want to admit it, when it comes to sex, I know you.”

He still hadn’t made a move to touch me anymore than my body sitting in his lap. His eyes burned and I knew he was holding back. I could feel his body pressing into mine, so I decided to push. “I promise I won’t regret this in the morning. I’ve spent the last nine years on the arms of a man who could have given two shits about me. It was all about how I looked standing next to him, and that he could use me to get off at the end of the night. I want to have sex with a man who cares about my pleasure as much as his own. To come with a man buried deep inside me, instead of in the shower after the dipshit in bed next to me fell asleep.”

He was quiet for a long moment. Too quiet. I started to worry he’d deny us both. I glanced up, waiting for his decision, when he curled his hands around my ass and pulled me tighter to him. His heat seeped through the black T-shirt, warming me to the core. Brock’s grip was strong as he stood and carried me out of the room to a set of stairs in the front hall. I wrapped my legs around his waist. Wordlessly, he moved up the stairs and down the hall to the bedroom at the end. My eyes still hadn’t adjusted to the dark, when he flipped on the light in the room.

His eyes locked onto mine. Heat and desire swirled through them and I pushed. The room was full of dark furniture with a large cherry bed taking up most of the center. Brock laid me down on the soft navy comforter. He stood, stripping his shirt before climbing over me and reconnecting our lips. The kiss was forceful, almost punishing. Brock’s hands and mouth were so familiar to me, it was as if I was a teenager again. It was the dreams of Brock holding me that got me through those first days filled with pain and terror. Not always physical pain, but the emotional pain of burying me in that grave. After a while I willed myself to be as strong as I needed to be to survive the future with Nathan.

I plunged my hand into the hair at his nape, holding his lips to mine, his fingers tightening almost to the point of pain. He pressed me into the mattress, his body thrusting up against mine as our tongues tangled. His hand slipped down to the hem of my dress, lightly caressing the bottom of my ass, pushing the fabric up over my hips.

He stopped plundering my mouth for only a brief second. “Are you fond of any of the clothes you’re wearing?”

Beyond the ability to form words, I shook my head. He nodded and moved back, rolling me to my stomach. The sound of the zipper lowering met my ears, the same time the cool air hit my skin. It was when the zipper hit the bottom, the ripping of fabric met my ears, and at the same time cool air hit my skin. I moved to my back again as the dress was pulled away and tossed across the room. I’d almost forgotten I hadn’t had a bra on, when a warm tongue laved my nipple. Shivers rippled through me. The heat of Brock’s mouth sent pulse after pulse of fire straight to my clit. I needed him before I went up in flames.

“Brock, please.”

He lifted his head, watching me. A wicked gleam in his eyes, the corners of his lips lifted in his signature smirk. After all these years, nothing had changed. Brock knew exactly where to touch me to drive me out of my mind and he was enjoying every second of it. I writhed on the bed, needing his hands to touch me, his mouth on me, and his dick in me. He lowered his head to my other breast, licking the pert tip, then blowing warm air across it, making me squirm.

His hands swept down my body, his mouth never stopping its sensual torture. The second his fingertips reached the barely there lace thong, it was ripped from my body. Brock’s size and strength might intimidate others, but not me. It was sexy. But I stopped thinking altogether when his thumb circled my clit. I cried out, arching my body toward his hand. It still wasn’t enough.

“Fuck me, Brock.”

His eyes darkened for a brief moment until a wicked gleam took over. Brock was off the bed and completely undressed in seconds. He guided my arms up above my head as his mouth returned to my chest. Sparks shot along every nerve ending. Lost in the sensations, I didn’t know what Brock was doing until I felt the smooth leather band around my wrist. Before I could move my other hand, he had that arm locked in too. My body clenched in anticipation as I squirmed on the bed. I had no idea what Brock planned, but I knew by the end of the night I’d be more satisfied than I’d been in years.

“Brock?”

His hand covered my mouth. “No talking.” His voice was low and raspy. “We’re gonna make up for years of shitty orgasms tonight.”

I groaned, the sound muffled by his fingers. When I tried to shake his hand loose, he held tighter and moved his gaze directly above mine. “I don’t want to hear a peep or I won’t let you come at all.” He froze, holding my gaze until I nodded my head in agreement. I didn’t need words to enjoy everything he’d do to me. He kissed his way down my body, and I knew exactly where he was headed. That didn’t stop me from jerking with the first swipe of his tongue.

He circled my clit over and over again until my vision blurred. The muscles in my legs tightened when he suddenly pulled his mouth off of me. I lifted my head to look down the length of my body. A sensual smirk curved the corner of his mouth. I opened my mouth to tell him to get back to it, but closed it when he shook his head at me. Lightly, he caressed along the crease of my thighs.

“I said no talking.”

I pressed my lips together, and when it was clear I’d keep them that way, he bent his head and slid his tongue inside me. Over and over he brought me right to the brink with his hands and mouth only to deny me at the last second. Every muscle in my body had tightened under the teasing. I was afraid I’d combust if he didn’t let me come soon. Every time I thought of begging, I bit the inside of my cheek, knowing it would do no good. It seemed as if a current ran along every nerve, shooting electric sparks through me. I continued to thrash against the restraints the last time he pulled away. I wondered how much more I could take. Brock bent his head again, except this time he sucked my clit between his lips. The orgasm rushed through me before I knew what was happening. My back arched high off the bed as I screamed so loud my throat burned.

Pulse after pulse hammered along my nerves. Brock unfastened the restraints and moved to the dresser. The sound of foil ripping filled my ears. My temperature spiked. Every bit of my skin burned, but that was nothing compared to the heat of his skin as he crawled back over me. His hard length ground against me.

“Brock,” I panted, lifting my hips, trying to get him to slip inside. I needed more.

He glanced down at me, a fire in his eyes.

I didn’t bother with words. I took hold of his face and brought his lips back down to mine. His tongue delved inside my mouth as he thrust into me. The erotic glide of his mouth matched the rhythm of his body as it plunged into mine.

“Holy shit.” Brock took my legs in his hands, pushing them back as he picked up his pace.

His rocked into me faster and faster. The muscles in my thighs tightened. I slipped my hand between our bodies, needing a little bit more to fall over the edge.

“No.” Brock batted my hand away, and for the briefest of moments, I thought he might torture me some more, then his fingers replaced mine, rubbing over me in a way that made my head spin.

I reached for the peak, wanting that ecstasy to course through me. To help me forget the last nine years. Passion seared through me and I let go. Spasms rocked me to my core, my brain dizzy. Somewhere in that state between pleasure and darkness, I felt Brock still above me as he shouted out his own release.

Slowly, the room came back into focus. Two chocolate brown eyes watched me intently. Our bodies still connected, I reached a hand up to run over the smooth muscles of his chest.

He didn’t say anything to me, just leaned down and took my lips in a kiss, not filled with fire or passion, just simple longing. “I would have come for you if I’d known.”

His body slipped from mine. Brock stood from the bed to rid himself of the condom, and a shiver traveled through me at the loss of his warmth. When he climbed back into bed, I curled into his side, resting my head on his chest. For the first time in years, I felt relaxed. The sensation of his fingers lightly grazing across my back lulled me into a restful state. Deep in the recesses of my mind I wanted to call and check on my mom and Michael, make sure they made it to the hotel, but I’d have to wait until they contacted Brock with their new numbers.

“Sleep. We’ll deal with everything else tomorrow.”

I wanted to argue, that I could deal with it all on my own. That I could take care of myself, yet there was something about his tone, and I let the sound pull me into slumber.

Footsteps thundered through the house. Glass shattered. Sounds of yelling reached the bedroom. I curled my knees tighter to my chest. Tears poured down my face at the horrors I’d been forced to witness tonight. Images of the woman pleading with Nathan to stop as he let his goons attack her ran through my mind. Her husband had begged earlier, offered himself up since he’d borrowed the money, but he wasn’t having it. He focused on her slightly rounded stomach. Tears poured from her eyes. She’d curled into a ball. I’d begged Nathan to stop it. He’d grabbed my upper arm hard enough for me to cry out in pain, which only made him tighten his grip. The taste of iron filled my mouth as I bit into the side of my cheek to keep from screaming out. Blood and vomit pooled on the ground.

My stomach rolled and I leaned over the toilet, dry heaving since there was nothing left to come up. I’d thrown up twice on the way home. The bathroom door smashed into the wall behind it. Fingers dug into my scalp. I was lifted from the floor by my hair. I tried to free myself, scratching down hairy arms. My head was yanked around and I came face-to-face with Nathan. A vein throbbed in his head.

“You’ll pay for that.”

I followed his eyes to the blood oozing down his arm.

“Nathan, please,” I begged even as I knew it would only fuel his rage.

“You will learn to either enjoy what I do or learn to not show any emotions.”

He shoved me away from him a mere second before his hand slapped my face sideways. Tears blurred my vision as I cupped my cheek and took a step back out of his reach.

“You begging me to stop it only makes me look weak and I will not look weak.” He stalked closer with each word.

This time his fist landed in my stomach. I curled into the same protective ball the woman had been earlier. Pain moved around to different parts of my body. I cried, begging him to stop, which only made him hit me harder.

“Do you understand now?” he screamed, his fist poised high in the air.

I whimpered. Hoping he understood. It wasn’t enough. I saw his fist lowering, almost in slow motion.

I bolted upright in bed, my heart hammering in my chest. Rivulets of sweat ran down my back as I sucked in breath after calming breath. The room was unfamiliar. I glanced around, trying to figure out where I was when a warm hand landed on my shoulder. I whipped my head around to find Brock watching me warily.

He stroked my hair. “I want to kill that fucker all over again.”

Even though the comfort was nice, I couldn’t be that vulnerable again. Not even with Brock. I knocked his hand away when I stood from the bed, heading into the bathroom to splash some water on my face. I lifted a hand to my cheek. The same one I remembered Nathan slapping in the dream. The light flicked on, bringing me back to reality.

Brock crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you want to tell me what all that was about?”

I looked down and then up at him through the mirror. I was too close to the edge. It had been many years since thoughts of Nathan brought me a nightmare. I knew this was a conversation I wasn’t ready to have, yet. I needed more time. “Not really.”

I turned, drying my face on the towel, before moving around him to head back into the bedroom.

“Amanda,” Brock growled from behind. “Knock it off and start talking.”

I spun on my heel to face him and crossed my arms over my chest. “Fine. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

I thought for a moment he’d argue, except I wasn’t going to give him the chance. Ignoring him, I climbed back into the bed and lay on my side, facing away from him.

The bed dipped with Brock’s weight and he climbed in behind me. The warmth of his hand filled me when he covered my shoulder and turned me toward him. He didn’t say anything, just opened his arms to me. I paused for a beat before scooting closer and resting my head on his chest. Soon his breathing evened out. As tired as I was, I struggled for sleep. I couldn’t stop myself from worrying what Brock would think about me in the morning. With the rumors on the street, Brock had to know plenty about my time with Marcello. Not all of it was true. Some of the worst stories never made it to the street. Even knowing what he did, my crimes were much bigger than his, and I wasn’t sure he’d be able to forgive them.

I wasn’t sure I could forgive myself.