♫ Bring Me To Life - Evanescence ♫
Thanksgiving came and went. November then swiftly rolled into December.
With the holidays now looming around the corner, my tolerance for anything and everything was declining at an alarming rate.
As it did every year.
I was an acrimonious jumble of silent and distant chaos.
Naturally, Rome clocked on to said change without missing a beat, and after a couple weeks of sparse and limited interaction, he insisted I spend the weekend at his place.
In fact, he wouldn’t take no for an answer, going as far as threatening to storm into my flat, pack my bag, and throw me over his shoulder if I didn’t come on my own terms.
So I went, because if the last five months we’d known one another taught me anything, it’s that the man didn’t fuck around.
He’d keep true to his promise, no holds barred.
“So are you finally gonna tell me what’s wrong, or am I gonna have to force it out of you?” Flicking the lighter, Rome lit the blunt he’d rolled not five minutes prior, taking a few deep puffs.
We were laying on his bed, his massive circular bed, surrounded by the dark of night. Only a sliver a light poured in from the windows thanks to the full moon.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I lied for the fifty-millionth time.
Rome sighed, releasing a thick cloud as he fell onto his back. “I know you’re lying. Do you not trust me or something?”
“I do trust you, it’s just—”
“See?” he interjected, passing me the cigarillo. “Lying.”
Shit.
I’d literally walked right into that one without even realizing it.
“I’m sorry.” I scooted closer to him, taking in my own hit. “I’m just not used to anyone caring.”
“Well, I’m not just anyone, Lux.” His voice held a dash of exasperation.
It stung a little, regardless of the fact I knew it wasn’t intentional.
I couldn’t blame him, really. I’d been aloof, had isolated myself to avoid marring those around me with my Grinch-like attitude, him included. And yet, here he was, making an effort to get to the root of the problem, and I was lying right through my teeth.
“I know you’re not.” I exhaled, hating myself a little more than I already did.
“So tell me then. You know I’m not going to judge you.”
“It’s such a long story, though…”
“And we have nothing but time, baby. A whole weekend to be exact. Tell me,” he demanded, shifting back onto his side.
Baby.
That name.
That damned name.
It’d slipped a few times over the last several weeks, and each time we played it off, simply continued with our conversation like it didn’t happen.
But this time…this time I couldn’t pretend it didn’t happen, much less that it didn’t affect me. Might seem juvenile to some, but I’d never been anyone’s “baby.”
This was new for me in a way I fancied a little too much.
“I was never that girl,” I somehow started suddenly, grappling Rome’s attention in a nanosecond. “You know, the one who lived a perfect life, with her perfect loving family, in their perfect little white picket fence home. Perhaps in another time and place, we could have been…” I took another quick puff, shaking my head. “But we weren’t. We were far from it. Anyway, I don’t know the whole story because it wasn’t shared with me, but I do know that my parents married young, like fresh out of secondary school young. They traveled around a bit, had plans for a whole lot of kids, but those plans quickly went spiraling down the drain when mum was unable to sustain a pregnancy. After five miscarriages, I finally managed to stick. Not wanting to get their hopes up, they refused to find out the gender—though my father was positive I was a boy.”
Rome rested his head on his hand as I passed him the blunt. He took a few puffs, and as always, I found myself enraptured at the sight of him letting it all go. The smirk he flashed me when he caught me staring prompted me to continue.
“So yeah, after all that, June rolled around and mum finally went into labor. She ended up having me via c-section after I’d, apparently, flipped breech at the last minute. I’m sure you can imagine my father’s surprise when the good Doctor told him I was a girl and not the strapping son he wanted. Any and every photo I’ve seen showed his disappointment, from the fake smile on his face to the awkward way in which he held me. Never mind the fact he was finally holding his own flesh and blood. I wasn’t a boy and it was clearly unacceptable,” I scoffed the last bit and fell onto my back, combing a hand through my hair, my gaze stuck on the circular tray ceiling above Rome’s bed.
Dread spilled itself into every nook and cranny of my being, undesirably so. We hadn’t even gotten to the worst part of it all yet and I was ready to call it quits. I didn’t want to share this shit with Roman.
Didn’t want him to know how ugly my life had been.
Certainly, I didn’t want him to feel sorry for me either. Because he would, I knew he would.
Once he learned the extent of it all, he’d understand why I was the way I was, and he’d feel nothing but pity.
I didn’t want his pity, or anyone else’s for that matter.
All I wanted was respect.
A thoughtful silence fell between us while the wheels of the past turned in my head. Rome didn’t say a word as he put out the cigarillo in the ashtray we had on the floor and wrapped an arm around my middle, pulling me closer to his side. It was a simple gesture of comfort, yet it felt so much more intimate than anything we’d shared thus far.
Following the colorful designs adorning his arm, I was met by his awaiting stare, a mindful expression furrowing his brows. He reached out and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear.
“I’m listening, continue,” he urged softly.
Ugh.
“Everything went downhill from there. When he found out it’d be very unlikely my mum could carry another child, he completely pulled away from her. Maybe he thought it was her fault? That there was something she did or didn’t do to not bear him a boy, to not have the ability to reproduce like a normal woman? I don’t know. The point is, he pushed her away, started working more. When he came home, he’d toss back a few beers and plant his ass in front of the telly until he passed out. He rarely ever made it to bed, and when he did, it was just to fuck my mum. I heard his drunken profanities and her forced moans through the walls more times than I can count.”
An ill shiver racked through my body at the memories.
“What about you? Did he at the very least try having a relationship with you?” Rome asked.
“Never.” I shook my head. “I grew up virtually alone, always fending for myself. Yeah, I had mum for a while, but in the later years, she wasn’t present, too caught up in her own depression to give me the love and attention any kid needs. She loved me, but parenting, unfortunately, took a backseat to her own sufferings. I made my own meals, washed my own clothes. I walked to and from the bus stop alone. Homework and projects were done alone, too. Forget about holidays and birthdays; those didn’t exist in my home.”
“Holidays?” Rome picked up on it immediately, as expected.
And I nodded, because what else was I suppose to do?
“In my entire life, I think I had maybe three Christmases, and I was too young to even remember them.” A bitter laugh shot from my mouth. “Birthdays went on a little longer, but not by much. Once I was six or so, mum died altogether. Not physically, but she might as well have been.”
Rome was staring at me in complete shock, but the pity I expected to see wasn’t there.
No.
In its place, was ire.
A hint of sympathy billowed around the edges as well, but it was mostly contained fury.
It was terrifying because if he was this upset now, only knowing so little, I couldn’t imagine his state when I dished out the rest.
“Lux…I-I don’t even know what to say,” he rasped.
I was so used to shrugging it all off, that’s exactly what I did. “No one ever really does, especially when they realize it only gets worse.”
Blue eyes flashed in disbelief. “Go on…” he gritted out, swallowing deeply as if steeling himself.
Good, he should.
None of this was pretty.
“I’m just gonna say it, mainly because it makes it easier for me to get out, but also because it’s better to just get it over with,” I explained awkwardly.
Rome nodded, his jaw grit.
Inhaling a deep breath, I went for it. “I was ten the first time he hit me. Before that, he mostly just ignored me. Guess ten makes you of age for beatings when your father hates you,” I scoffed, feeling him tense beside me. “They weren’t really a regular occurrence, but I guess that’s because mum got the worst of it. They did get worse with time, though, and when I turned thirteen, he violated me during one of his manic episodes. He didn’t actually penetrate me, but every act was unwanted, against my will. I guess my cries finally sobered him and, following that night, he never tried it again.”
The bed was shaking.
Literally shaking.
I couldn’t even bring myself to look at Rome from the sheer amount of heat radiating off his body.
It was suffocating.
Debilitating.
More than I could bear.
And story time wasn’t even over yet.
“By this point, I’d met Suki at school. She was a problem child transfer from the Liverpool orphanage. We hit it off her first day in class and the rest is history. It’s like she was sent to me to keep me from checking out so young. To help me through the next shit card and every one thereafter.”
My heart was thrashing. I could hardly breathe, so much so that I had to sit up.
Risking a peek at Rome only made it worse.
He looked positively murderous and I wanted to die. Watching him suffer on my behalf, having to burden him with this because of who he’d become in my life, was forcing me to relive these memories through a whole new painful perspective.
“My father may not have tried to touch me again,” my voice cracked a little, “but he had no problem selling my body to his friends when I turned fifteen. Fredrick was the first of the bunch. He took my virginity, shed me of my dignity. I endured it for a year—one long excruciating year of being used as a receptacle. That’s when Suki and I left. Neither one of us had anything to lose by doing so, so why not, right? Little did we know how hard it was going to be. As two sixteen-year-olds who ran away and fled their country, we found ourselves permanently living on the streets. No one wanted to help us. We slept under plenty of park benches and bridges, starved for weeks at a time. Eventually, we had to sell ourselves on street corners to make a buck for sheer survival. But then two years later, Vic found us on a corner in Brickell, begging for petty change. He took us in, got us jobs at Tootsies now that we were legal—”
“I can’t listen to any more,” Rome growled suddenly, jolting me back into the here and now. “I can’t fucking listen to anymore… Let’s go.”
My stomach almost purged itself from my body. “Where?”
“For a drive.”
I didn’t protest, offering him a silent nod that prompted him onto his feet in a flash. He was equally as silent as he extended a hand and helped me onto my feet as well.
Five minutes later, we were in the car.
He was speeding, weaving in and out around vehicles like a lunatic. I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t seem to form words. My mind was racing. I was relieved the conversation was over and done with, and yet petrified at the same time at the abrupt way in which it ended.
What was he thinking?
Gripping the door handle, I could nothing but sit and watch him maneuver us up I-95, then onto the MacArthur Causeway.
We were headed toward the beach, apparently.
“I get it now,” he finally said, his grip on the steering wheel white. “I get it and I’m so fucking sorry for you, baby.”
“Rome, don’t…” Tears sprung to my eyes. The pity party was coming, the one where he left me because he’d realized how fucked up I was.
“But mostly, I’m so disgusted, I don’t know what the fuck to do with myself. What’s festering inside me right now…”
Here it comes.
“I’m going to kill your father,” he seethed. “Maybe not today, or next month, even next year, but one day, he’ll pay his fucking dues. That disgrace of a man will pay for every single thing he did to you—emotionally, physically, psychologically. All of it.”
“You can’t—” I started, but he held a firm hand up, popping my mouth closed.
“I can, and I will. Unless you express a desire to keep him alive—for whatever the reason may be—I’m dragging that motherfucker to hell with my bare hands.”
All the air just about left my lungs.
That malevolence, the possessively-fueled growl of his voice...
My God, I was suddenly so turned on.
I can’t explain it and I probably sound crazy for admitting such a thing, but I’d gone from downright depleted, to the most aroused I’d ever felt in my entire life, at the flip of a switch.
Whether he sensed it or not, we fell silent yet again. I think we were both processing, yet they were two completely different things.
He understood me.
And I finally understood him.
I truly did.
Whatever this thing between us was, it was as real as he’d sworn, and it was all the more real now, after I’d laid my soul bare to him.
* * *
We parked up at the beach as expected, closer to the pier. It was darker here, more secluded at this hour.
Away from all the boisterous night life.
The minutes continued to tick by in silence and I wasn’t sure how much more I could tolerate. It was stifling, brimming with fierce sexual tension pent up from weeks upon weeks of repression.
I felt every bit of it pulsating between my thighs, through my veins, in my head.
My fucking heart.
“Wanna go for a walk?” I suggested, hoping to get us out of the damned car for a little while.
But Rome shook his head and turned toward me, eyes ablaze. “No,” he rasped. “I need those lips on mine.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice.
I was unbuckling my seatbelt and climbing into his lap faster than either one of us could blink. The second my mouth crashed into his, that was it.
It was pure chaos.
That primal sense of need was so intensely magnified, there wasn’t anything that could rip us apart.
We were drowning in a rabid clusterfuck of emotions, drowning so damn deep the windows began fogging out around us. Each kiss was more feverish than the last; desperate, impatient, hungered.
And none were enough.
I both needed and wanted more, needed and wanted all of him, my hands shaking as I fumbled to loosen the waistband of his basketball shorts.
I was so far gone, I didn’t even register him restraining me until my arms were clasped behind my back and his hand snaked into my hair, pulling me flush against him.
“We need to stop,” he growled against my neck, teeth lightly grazing my skin, “or I’m going to eat you alive.”
Yes. God, yes.
“Do it,” I coaxed purposefully, whimpering when he tugged my head back with force.
“Don’t test me, Lux. I will hold true to my word, and you don’t want that right now.”
“Yes I do, I want it all,” I gritted out, hissing in bliss as he tugged harder. “You know you want to.”
“There’s not a single doubt about that, but not here. Not now, we can’t.”
What?
I went completely rigid.
My entire body stung, immobilized by the unexpected pride-jostling slap of rejection.
“Why?” I hated how pained I sounded.
“Lux, you just finished telling me all of that…” he trailed off, releasing me.
“I know, and your reaction to it all is what has me riding this high. You’re not sitting there pitying me. You’re not disgusted or put off. Somehow, you understand it all in a way no one has before.”
“It wouldn’t be ri—”
“I need you, Rome,” I cut him off. “More than I’ve ever needed anyone or anything in my life.”
His lips thinned, the cogs visibly rolling in his head. “Do you really want me to fuck you out here like a twenty pound slag?” he asked suddenly.
I shook mine, leaning in closer. “No, I want you to fuck me as me, as the woman you so clearly desire. Take it all away, mark me with your stamp. Show me how it’s supposed to be...”
“You understand what you’re asking me for, right? What this means?” The man was entirely serious, not a hint of amusement anywhere to be found.
“I think so, but tell me anyway.”
“You give me you, all of you—and you’re mine. Got that?”
“I do.” I nodded.
“Do you really though? I’m not fucking around, Lux. I don’t share,” he growled.
“I don’t want you to share.”
Everything stopped. The entire fucking world came to a screeching halt as we bore into one another with his decree hanging thick in the air.
Fifteen seconds.
Thirty.
Forty-five.
No words were exchanged.
After an excruciating minute, his palms, warm and reverent started up my thighs. “This right here is an exception, kitty kat, a one-time free pass. The next time I take you, it’ll be in my bed with you spread out for me, naked, writhing, nails clawing down my back. Understand?”
That image…
God help me the day it came to be.
He was going to ruin me.
“Yes…” I was practically shivering in anticipation.
Rome dropped his gaze to the apex of my thighs, his tongue flashing out along his bottom lip. “Slide those little shorts to the side for me.”
Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe.
This was it.
We’d shared a couple of moments that led us to the point of no return.
But this time, this, right here, was the real deal.
There was no coming back from this.
Bracing myself for what would be my ultimate demise, I obliged to his request, pulling the soft fabrics of my shorts and panties aside.
The rest of me remained hidden beneath my clothing, but holy fuck, I had never felt more exposed.
So bare.
And yet, the possessive, adoring look in his eyes set me on fire.
It was everything I’d never had, and everything I’d always wanted.
Lips parted, his nostrils flared as he dipped his thumb between my lips and dragged it up to my clit. “Fuuuck… It’s prettier than I imagined.”
“Rome, please,” I whimpered impatiently.
He could look later, up close and in detail if he wanted to. But right then, I needed him inside me. Needed him filling me until I didn’t know where I started and he ended.
“Spread it for me, baby,” he rasped crudely, pulling himself free from his shorts, stroking it slowly.
Long, thick, hard—my pussy clenched at the mere sight of it.
I was salivating like a bitch in heat, spreading myself wantonly between two fingers.
I’d never felt like this before…
Rome hissed, his eyes darkening. “Goddamn, you’re perfect.” He slid his length along my heat, flooding me, drawing my essence all over him.
It. Was. Torture.
Exquisite-fucking-torture.
“Come here,” he gritted out, yanking me flush against him. “I wanna see you. Look at me while I take you.”
Stares entwined, he pushed into me without warning, filling me inch, by inch, by delicious inch—until I was gasping for air, fully seated on his length.
Throwing my head back, I clamped my eyes shut. “Ohhh my God…”
Rome hummed, as if agreeing to my plea. Gripping my hips, his fingers dug into my skin as he rolled into me skillfully. “So. Fucking. Tight.”—thrust—“So warm.”—thrust—“So wet.”—thrust—“You’re perfect, fucking perfect, Lux.”
His words…
The way he fucked me…
I was high on it all, creeping up on the precipice of ecstasy, ready to fall over the edge into sweet oblivion at any moment.
“Oh, God, please… More…” I begged, riding him with equal fervor.
“It’s Rome, baby—get it right. Remember it. Engrain it in your mind. It’s the only name you’ll be moaning from now on.”
“Rome, please.” I begged again, chasing that decadent feeling building deep within my core.
Pushing me back the tiniest bit, he shifted the angle just slightly, enough to thumb my clit, sending lightning bolts of pleasure coursing through me.
“Fuuuck, right there.” My eyes rolled, legs quivering. “Don’t stop.”
“You gonna come for me?” he questioned roughly.
I nodded, panting, rolling against him frantically. “So close.”
“I know, you’re fucking milking me already.”
I was, too, pulsing and throbbing, pulling him in deeper. My body had never been so greedy.
“So. Damn. Close,” I warned him, moaning excitedly when his hand slipped around my throat.
Squeezing.
Robbing me of my air supply.
As those tingly little stars began flooding the corners of my eyes, he yanked me toward him once more. “Eyes on me when you come, Lux. Give me that orgasm, all of it.”
I lasted all of a minute more, erupting from the air of determination playing on his features as he fucked me rabid.
My body locked up tight, pussy clenching and gushing all over him. “I’m coming, I’m fucking coming!”
He groaned appreciatively, slamming me in place as he chased his own release. “So. Fucking. Beautiful,” the words came grunted through thrusts that left me breathless, limp, reeling.
Owned.