Page 101 of Depraved

“I’m so sorry.”

Water slowly trickled over my shoulder and down my spine. Soft, gentle, as if he was trying to soothe me. Comfort me. Silently washing away my pain.

I opened my eyes, my sight blurry with sorrow. But when I looked into his eyes, those beautiful green irises with amber specks of strength, I realized how truly lost I was. I was lost within the world of a man who possessed me mind, body, and soul. A cruel man. A ruthless man. A man who led the way to my ruin. Yet here I was, fully aware that no matter how much I wanted to hate him, I didn’t. Resisting him was only temporary—it had always been only temporary.

After a few deep breaths, I started weeping again. The moment was too powerful for me to even try to stay strong. I couldn’t. Not with him so close, crouched beside the tub and staring right at me. Dark, disheveled curls had been tied in a messy bun. His beard was still as unruly as ever, menace oozing out of every pore even while we found ourselves in such a vulnerable moment. But instead of fearing him like I knew I should, I wanted him. I wanted him to take away the pain, the uncertainty…just like I wanted him to save me in my nightmare.

“Granite,” I whispered, “it hurts.” I sniffed. “Make it stop…please.”

More tears poured like a river of agony, but he didn’t say a word. All he did was drip a handful of water down my back, over and over again, like he was trying to wash away every bad thing that had ever happened to me.

I leaned to the side, reaching for his arm, pulling it closer as I nestled my face into the crook of his elbow, crying. The familiar smell of cedarwood mixed with nicotine was comforting, yet it woke a new kind of ache inside me. And when his fingertips gently traveled down my spine on his way to scoop more water into his palm, my body shivered. His touch took me back to the night when I surrendered, finally embracing the darkness of what I felt for him. I couldn’t say it was light, because it wasn’t. Whatever it was between us, it was dark, dirty, raw…and unstoppable. Not even death could stop it.

His other hand wrapped around my arm as he pulled me closer, allowing me to cry into his shoulder. My tears stained his cut with my pain. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. Enough had been said. Enough had been done. I simply wanted to be free of all the emotions I was slowly drowning in.

Silently, he kept pouring water down my back, over my shoulders, while his other hand caressed me. The longer I felt his touch, being so close to him, the more I wanted him to take it all away, even if only for a short while.

I lifted my head, my cheek brushing against his beard as I exhaled against the skin of his neck. A groan rumbled in the back of his throat, and his fingers dug into the flesh of my arm, pulling me closer, the edge of the tub pressing against my chest like a barrier keeping us apart.

“Make it go away,” I whispered, and he cursed under his breath. “Make it all go away, Granite.”

I heard his breathing deepen, his warm breath coating the bare, wet skin of my neck. It was gentle enough to barely feel, yet powerful enough to tip me over the brink of madness, far away from the confusion that tainted everything I felt for this man.

Easing down the side of my arm, his fingers left a trace of tingling flesh in their wake, continuing all the way until it disappeared beneath the water. I closed my eyes, not even trying to fight the feeling. I was desperate for it to carry me away from here, to be raptured from reality. The soft touch of his fingers against my skin was indescribable, and just like I knew it would, it slowly forced all the bad feelings that were poisoning me to the farthest corner of my soul, too weak to fight the desire he so expertly woke inside me.

It started out as a sliver of relief, but as he moved his touch to my inner thigh, the relief grew stronger, powerful, and it gently lured me away from the ugliness of this world.

I sucked in a breath, unable to control the way my body responded to his touch. It was impossible, exactly like the first time he seduced me.

“Granite—”

He wrapped his other arm around my shoulder, pushing his cheek hard against mine, finally slipping his hand between my legs.

I gasped and moaned, and he squeezed my shoulder. Gently, he teased a fingertip along my sensitive folds, exploring while earning soft whimpers from my lips. Greedy and overcome with desire, I opened my legs, giving him access—permission to take me away. Carry me far from here.

In the midst of all the ugly, his touch felt exquisite, my body no longer consumed by anguish, but rather a raw need to find pleasure. Even if just for a few moments.

He slipped a finger inside me, and I cried out at the same time he wrapped a hand around my neck, craning my head back, kissing me hard like both our lives depended on it. It was a desperate, firm, and unyielding kiss that took my breath away. The feel of his velvet tongue against mine earned a moan from deep within my chest, and the taste that was uniquely Granite disarmed me completely. The rhythm of his finger easing in and out of me was exquisite, yet torture at the same time, and I wanted more. I didn’t want it to ever end.

Peeling his lips from mine, I felt the top of his nose travel below my ear, inhaling like he was trying to get high on my scent. My body was instantly consumed with the need to be burned alive. I wanted his touch to incinerate me and leave nothing but ashes behind.

The pad of his thumb found that little sensitive bud and played it to the sweet rhythm of the euphoria I craved so much. Fingers dug into the flesh beneath my jaw, and I couldn’t stop myself from moving my hips. Searching. Wanting. Needing more. I was desperately searching for the edge, hopelessly in need of that last push to finally fall.

Warm lips kissed the hollow between my shoulder and neck. “I’m sorry, ballerina girl,” he whispered against my skin, and that was all I needed.

I fell—catapulted over the edge. His finger slipped in and out of me, carrying me through the rush of pleasure that swept through my body like an electric current. It was powerful, deep, and for those few blissful moments, I was free, no longer feeling anything but the ecstasy of release.

My body shuddered, and I pressed my cheek tightly against him, nestling into his shoulder.

As the last tremors of pleasure rippled through me, he eased his finger out of me before weaving both hands through my hair at the back of my head. My breaths came out rapidly, and I loved being in his embrace.

I hated that I loved it.

He pressed a hard and desperate kiss against my temple then dropped his lips to my ear.

“She’s alive.”

I froze. “What?”