Bound by Obsession (Shadowed Souls #2)

47. Chapter Forty Seven

S itting cross legged on my bed, my hand hesitates over the notepad, the pen stuck in mid-air. How do I even finish a letter to a total stranger?

Yours, Avery.

No, that’s too much.

From Avery.

No, A. Just A. I give the letter a flourish, sitting back to look over the page before me. Axel was right, this was exactly what I needed to find some closure, to be able to close the door on Mr. XO. He can continue to send letters if he feels the need to do so. Now I’ve written my own, I understand the appeal but I’m ready to sever the connection I’ve built up in my mind. It’s been an evening for revelations.

Another thing I’ve decided is that absolutely no one can see this response, ever. It’s too personal, and let’s face it, absolutely freaking nuts to pour my heart to a stalker. But it also gave me clarity that the relationships I need to be focusing on are with those under this roof. No more fictional ones.

With that thought in mind, I hide the letter beneath my mattress and step into the hallway. It’s long past midnight, but that didn’t stop a certain someone from creeping back in. Where he’s been is anyone’s guess, and it doesn’t really matter. He’s back, I’m awake and feeling far too reckless to sleep.

The soft sound of snoring seeps from Axel’s bedroom, the tv still on in Huxley’s. A faint glow leaks out of the small crack in Dax’s door and when I peer in, I see he’s fallen asleep by lamplight, a book sprawled across his chest. No chance of him talking me out of what I’m about to do then. Moving on, I listen outside of Wyatt’s room before knocking for his ears only. No response comes, so I do the opposite of what any sane person would and I let myself in.

Wyatt’s cologne hits me like a blow to my senses, the entire room pulsing with his scent, his darkened energy. The curtains are drawn, his clothes tossed across the bed. Steam billows from beneath the bathroom door, my heart pounding in my chest. Raising my fist to knock again, I hesitate. What would I even say? Oh erm, hi Wyatt, didn’t realize you were totally naked, wet and what’s that? Oh you’re rock hard and thinking about me? Perfect.

The sound of running water continues to filter through the thin wood, and I bite my lip, trepidation buzzing beneath my skin. I should turn around and head back to my room. But we’ve been playing the strange game of cat and mouse for weeks and I’m done with it. Whether I’m accepted or shunned to forever live in embarrassment, I’m getting my answer. Tonight.

Taking a deep breath, I push the door open an inch. The air is so thick with heat, I can barely see through the fog clinging to the mirror. But I can hear him. The ripple of water pouring over his body, the occasional splash as he shifts beneath it. My stomach flutters. The thought of him so close, so exposed, fills me with a hesitant burning. I haven’t felt this nervous in a while, but I also haven’t actively pursued someone like this before. The Shadowed Souls decided my fate with them long before I surrendered. Now the tables have turned.

I slip further inside, closing the door behind me as quietly as possible. My heart is beating so fast I swear it’s going to alert him to my presence. The shower curtain is half-drawn, revealing a glimpse of his silhouette through the mist. He’s facing away from me, his broad shoulders flexing as he runs his hands through his wet hair, streams of water tracing paths down his muscled back.

Taking a step closer, my feet are moving before I’ve fully made the decision. Being this close to him, unsuspecting and oh, so vulnerable is intoxicating. I quickly grow drunk with danger, no longer thinking at all. I pull my tank top over my head, letting it drop silently to the floor, followed quickly by my shorts. Standing there in nothing but my panties, I feel my body respond. Skin warming, pulse quickening. I take a shaky breath, forcing myself to be brave.

Answers, Avery . We need a definite yes, I want you, or no, it’s never really going to happen. It’s now or never. In one quick motion, I hook my fingers into my underwear and slip them off, leaving me bare. The cool air hits my skin, a stark contrast to the steam swirling around me. Slowly, I ease back the shower curtain and step inside.

He doesn’t notice at first, too lost in the stream enveloping him. His head is tipped forward, water dripping from his dark hair, running in rivulets down the sharp lines of his body. I let my eyes linger on him. His back, his thick arms, the way his muscles flex with even the slightest movement, the cute indents to his incredibly toned ass. Who knew he was concealing such a gorgeous ass specimen?

I predict the exact moment he feels my stare. Straightening, he braces himself on the tile, only turning his head back. My breath catches. Green eyes go wide for a split second, surprise flashing across his face, but then his gaze darkens as it sweeps lower, taking in my body, my heaving chest.

“What are you doing?” Wyatt growls so low, it’s barely audible over the pounding of water. A tiny squeak bubbles out of me, as if I didn’t expect him to ask questions. In my head, Wyatt would be like every other man in the world and simply ravage me. Grappling back an inch of my self-control, I close the distance between us and press myself against his back.

“Not giving you the option to avoid me,” I state calmly, although inside I’m a frazzled mess of estrogen. Wyatt’s ribs flex beneath my hands, his control slipping. “You’ve been pretending to ignore me for weeks. I won’t let you push me out anymore.”

My hands travel lower to settle on his hips. At the edge of my fingertips is the deep indent that travels south. He still makes no move to turn around, using his back as a barrier between us. However, his cock tells a whole different story when I bite the bullet and take the bull by the horns. Or rather, take the shaft by the thick, veiny base.

“You want this. I want this.” I breathe desperately. There’s no room for shame, no point acting coy when my nipples are pressed against his back, aching for more. Wyatt has been forbidden for so long, but all bets are off now. When he stayed to fuck me with my own dildo, he opened the floodgates, given me the signs and now I won’t take no for an answer. Or I will, and I’ll never be able to look him in the eye again.

I stand, molded to his wet back for so long, slowly sliding my hand up and down his cock until I’m convinced he isn’t going to move. Simply let it happen this way so he can claim he played no part. I squeeze his shaft tighter, an exasperated huff puffing out my cheeks.

Wyatt moves so suddenly, I squeak again as he spins and lifts me in one smooth move, slamming my back into the tiles. I’m met with his stern green eyes staring directly through me, so piercing I’m frozen in place. Legs locked around his hips, my hands on his chest. The heaviness of his breathing causes the tattooed dragon to shift beneath my fingers, the heat seeping from the ink enough to burn me. But I don’t pull away. I lean in.

Wyatt’s head turns just before our lips meet, my mouth clumsily brushing his cheek. A quick lash of embarrassment cracks against my confidence, despite his hardness between my center proving he wants this just as much. Water cascades over his hair and back, spraying from his shoulders. His voice is thick, raspy. A final warning he desperately wants me to hear.

“I won’t be gentle.”

“Good.” Wyatt’s eyes return to mine, hunting for any hint of uncertainty. That’s all it would take to pull away from me once more, but he finds none. I’ve been building myself up to this all evening, to show weakness now would be a waste. Once satisfied I’m not going to back out, Wyatt reaches between us and strokes the plump head of his cock from my pussy to my clit. My breath hitches, my thighs tightening on his hips.

“I’m not going to prep you.” He growls beside my ear, our cheeks touching. I arch my back, forcing my breasts against him. He draws his cock back down to my slit, teasing my opening before moving back to my clit again. A slow delicious torture. He hardens a little more each time, growing insistent against me.

“I want you to feel every raw, hard inch of me. I want you to be branded with the sting of stretching around my shaft. You won’t get it twice.” I weaken at the gruffness of his voice, the dirty, dangerous edge to his words.

Hitching my legs up higher and pushing my knees into my sides, Wyatt exposes me, the weight of his chest pushing mine back into the cold tile. As promised, he doesn’t delay. His cock pushes inside of me and the tightness causes us both to groan. I try to shift to better accommodate him but Wyatt is statue still, his grip on my thighs bruising. The only part of him to move is the agonizingly slow tilt of his hips.

Once he’s fully seated, we’re both tense, groaning in time with each breath. It’s affecting him just as much, but even so, the corner of his mouth quirks up in a slow, knowing smile. Wyatt doesn’t say a word, simply holds me there on the edge of his torture.

“Please,” I whimper, my brows knitted together. I’m so full that my thighs are quaking from the intensity of it. Wyatt’s hand slips around to the small of my back, pushing me flush against him. I mewl, twisting my head away. I can’t handle the size of him so deep, but there’s nowhere to go. I’m at his mercy, exactly where I put myself.

“Why did you really seek me out, Avery?” he asks, his voice low, the rough edge to it sending a shiver straight down my spine. His other hand slides lower, fingers grabbing at the curve of my hip, the heat of his touch stealing my breath. I’m pinned in the lion’s gaze, whining for him to take pity on me.

“I couldn’t help myself,” I admit breathlessly as I avoid looking into his eyes. The water beads on his skin, glistening under the bathroom light. I can’t tear my gaze away from his chiseled jaw, the way his lips part slightly as his eyes drop to my mouth.

“Why?” Those haunting green eyes seek mine out, holding me captive in the same way his cock is holding me on a precipice of losing my freaking mind. My breath hitches as I search for an answer, my chest heaving against his. I’m drowning in him; his heat, his weight, his presence, every nerve ending in my body wired to the place where we’re joined. His question cuts through the haze, demanding more than just the shallow truth I’ve been telling myself.

“Tell me why couldn’t you stay the fuck away? Why is it my cock you crave so much when you have so many other options?”

“Because...” My voice trembles as I force myself to meet his eyes, that deep green gaze piercing straight through me. I don’t want to give him the truth, not wanting him to have that much power over me. I came to him because he sees through every facade, every wall I’ve put up. Wyatt strips me bare in ways that go far beyond my body, exposing every fear, every desire I’ve kept hidden. He knows the version of me I keep hidden from everyone else.

Wyatt grows impatient, dragging me an inch away from the wall just to slam me back into it. The jolt of his dick so deeply inside causes my vision to waver. “Because you aren’t enamored with me,” I rush to say, arching further. “You don’t care about me enough to make sure it doesn’t hurt. You’re selfish, inconsiderate and savage.” I sigh, biting on my bottom lip.

“And?” Wyatt presses his hips into me impossibly further, bringing his hand up to grip my chin when I try to twist away again. My chest is heaving, my toes so curled that they’ve lost all feeling. Gripping his wrist, I lower Wyatt’s hand and clasp it around my throat. Just like last time.

“And I want to be used,” I admit in a tiny voice. Wyatt’s eyes track the movement of my lips and settle on the hand on my neck. He looks crazed, barely hanging onto the last thread of his honor. It’s far too late for that now. Forcing his grip to tighten, I gasp against his fingers. “We’ve both been used against our will for years, forced to feel what others demanded of us. At least this, we can control. If anyone can understand, it’s you.”

Not even a beat passes before Wyatt’s lips crash down on mine. The water pours over us as he finally withdraws his cock, but only for a second. Slamming back inside, Wyatt’s hips snap back and forth, fucking me with abandon. His hands explore, possessive and hungry, like he’s wanted this as much as I have.

Wyatt’s lips are everywhere, devouring, tasting, claiming. The weight of his body presses me deeper into the cold tile, but the heat between us is so intense that I hardly notice the chill anymore. His mouth trails from my lips down to my throat, where his hand grips tightly. The pulse of his fingers around my neck sends a ripple of pleasure straight down to where we’re connected, where his cock is stretching me to the point of delicious agony.

“Is this what you wanted?” he growls, his voice vibrating against my skin, lips brushing the shell of my ear. His hips pound into me, each thrust harder, deeper than the last. “To be used? For me to destroy your concept of pleasure and construct my own? A fullness only I can give you?”

“ Fuck , yes,” I breathe, my voice cracking. “All of that, yes .” I buckle under the weight of everything I’m feeling, his relentless cock, the way his body envelops mine, how his hands leave bruises on my skin. Every moment feels like fire, like I’m teetering on the edge of an explosion I can’t control.

Wyatt pulls back slightly, just enough to look down at me, his green eyes burning with something fierce, something dangerous. His expression twists between dominance and raw need, his control fraying with each second that passes. His hand tightens around my throat, and my eyes flutter closed, surrendering completely to the way he consumes me.

“Open your eyes,” he demands, his hips stilling for just a moment, leaving me quaking on the edge of losing my mind. “I want you to know exactly who holds your life in the balance right now.” I obey, my eyelids heavy as I meet his gaze. His face is so close, our ragged breaths mingling between us.

His hand slips lower, wrapping around my thigh as he lifts me higher, opening me up even more. I’m helpless against him, completely pinned between the wall and his body. Each stroke sends lightning through me, building higher, faster. My throat flutters with the edge of panic, my lungs burning for air. I try to maintain Wyatt’s stare but it’s starting to become fuzzy around the edges.

“Tell me, Avery,” Wyatt pants, his voice dark and low. “If you pass out, would you expect me to stop fucking you? Because I won’t. You’ll wake so sore, permanently feeling me buried inside of this tight cunt, long after I’ve left.”

“Do it,” I whisper, my body trembling, every muscle tensing as the pleasure quickly speeds towards oblivion. “I need you to destroy me, Wyatt.”

The words barely leave my lips before he snaps his hips harder, faster, and I cry out, the sound swallowed by the echoing walls of the shower. There’s no mercy, no hesitation. Just raw, animalistic passion, the kind that leaves me breathless and dizzy, teetering on the edge of a blackout.

His hands are bruising, one gripping my throat, the other on my waist, pulling me down onto him with each punishing thrust. His mouth crashes onto mine again, hot and desperate. There will be no hiding the chaos which we’ve unleashed. It’s going to be marked on my skin for all to see.

“Wyatt. I’m gonna…I can’t breathe-” I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders as I hold on for dear life.

“I don’t need you to breathe. I need you to cum for me. Now.” Despite everything, my chest heaving for air, my limbs quickly going limp, my body responds. The tension inside me snaps, and I’m free-falling into a tidal wave of release, my entire body convulsing with the force of it. I scream his name, my voice raw and hoarse, and Wyatt follows a moment later, his grip releasing on my throat as he groans through his own climax, his body shuddering against mine. I wheeze, swallowing gulps of air. My head spins, dropping back against the tile with a crack that rings through my ears.

“I knew you’d be this fucking tight, Avery,” Wyatt mutters into my ear. His head drops against the tile beside mine, his entire focus on his throbbing shaft stalling inside of me. “This fucking perfect.”

It’s the first compliment Wyatt has ever given me. I swallow down past the lump in my throat, berating myself not to cry right now like a little bitch. The release of emotion, the relief of finally having Wyatt in ways I didn’t dare dream of, it’s all too much but I manage to hold it together as he settles me back down on the floor. My legs threaten to fail me, my body slipping against Wyatt’s muscled abdomen.

Ducking my head, I wash myself down and exit, quickly wrapping a towel around myself. My hair is plastered to my back and as promised, the soreness between my legs runs deep. I abandon my clothes, rushing through Wyatt’s room in an effort not to overstay my welcome. This was perfect, despite the rage simmering beneath Wyatt’s surface. I’m not going to wait around long enough for him to say something to ruin it. I’ll face his gloating tomorrow.

Two steps from the door, a hand grips my hair. I muffle my scream whilst being wrenched back against Wyatt’s chest. True terror shatters my expectations that I could screw Wyatt and escape in one piece. Lowering his mouth to my ear, I shudder at his heated breath.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he growls, pushing his still-hard cock against my backside through the towel. I bite my lip, eyes widening. Wyatt uses his grip on my hair to pull me towards his bed, whipping the towel free from my body. He tosses the clothes onto the floor and peels back the covers, holding me as if I’ll bolt if given the chance. I probably would. This sudden change in dynamic leaves me utterly in his control, not a place I intended to be.

Pulling me onto the mattress, Wyatt’s arm winds around my middle, tugging me roughly into his body. I pant, waiting for him to push himself back inside me, to screw me into the pillows until I cry, but none of that happens. Instead, Wyatt pulls the cover over us and holds me tight, our wet and naked bodies molded together.

“Do you normally make a habit of taking what you want and running out?” Wyatt asks into the darkness. It’s only then I realize how rigid I still am, my thoughts colliding like a battering ram. I’m spooning with Wyatt. How does that notion feel so much scarier than the aspect of him rearranging my organs?

“I-I didn’t think you’d want me to stay.” I frown, more uncomfortable now than ever. There’s a rumble passed through Wyatt’s chest and into my back, something akin to a small laugh.

“I reckon it’s safe to say you don’t have a clue what I want, Avery.” Wyatt’s body softens as he pulls me back to brush his nose against my nape. There’s something muted about his hold now, a vulnerability that wasn’t there before. As his breathing evens out, I stare into the abyss, too confused and wired to rest. This could be a trick. Maybe I’ll wake to binds pinning me down and Wyatt standing over me with a hacksaw. To be fair, if there’s a Ghostface mask involved, I might not be as terrified as I should be. Fuck, I really need to stop reading Dax’s books.