Chapter 33: Zayna

Chapter Thirty-Three

Zayna

R uger savagely parts my thighs, splattering my juices everywhere. I can’t think straight with his weight pressed on top of me. I can feel how hard he is. How hard he’s been this entire time. He never holds anything back. It’s the toxic excessive honesty that draws me to him. And his moods. And his body. He bites my shoulder to force a moan out of me. I keep fighting him. I can admit in the darkest part of my heart that I want him, but in Ruger’s bed, I can’t admit to him that I want a man who is such a savage person.

He wants every man who ever touched me dead. I know that he’s far too willing to pull the trigger and kill another human being. I thoroughly know the depths of his disturbed mind. I know every dark and fucked up thing about Ruger, but he still gets me wetter than any other man. My heart skips when he walks into a room. I know that even when he’s eighty-five years old, I’ll still find him handsome.

That scares me. Ruger kisses my neck and I moan even louder. This is how he gets inside my head and I fucking hate it. I try to kick him again, but this time, I don’t even convince myself that I want him to stop. I’m fucking powerless against his physical strength. That much is true. I convince myself that’s the reason I part my thighs and why I don’t run when I feel him removing his dick from his pants.

A lump forms in my throat when Ruger’s big dick smacks against my ass. He is fully lost in his desires. I can’t stop him from peeling my cheeks apart. I shudder as I feel something warm and slightly wet pressing against my lips. Even before he thrusts forcefully, my entrance aches. My body remembers how much taking Ruger’s dick hurts like hell.

He holds my lower back and I get a dark thought pulsing through my head. Run. I try to squirm away, but it doesn’t work. Ruger impales me with a single stroke, painfully splitting me open with his giant dick as he slides every inch of his dick inside me. It’s possessive. Fucked up. He entered me like that just to hurt me.

Ruger groans passionately as he moves his hips to grind his dick inside me. I can’t fill my lungs with enough air. Black sparks against a white screen blank out my vision. Ruger drags me back into my twisted reality with another forceful bite on my shoulder.

“Your pussy feels so good,” he growls into my ear. Ruger’s passion hurts. I’m wet, but not wet enough for a dick that big. My moans could fool me completely. I sound like I’m purely enjoying Ruger’s dick splitting me open. With each gasp for breath, it becomes more true. He fucks me hard into the bed, knocking the headboard forcefully into the wall. He’s never done that before. Not in our bed. Not from behind.

He smacks my ass hard while he fucks me from behind. The heat between my legs spikes and spreads through me. I’m going to cum. I can’t believe it. I don’t want Ruger’s rage fuck to make me cum. He hits my ass harder. I cry out even louder than before because this motherfucker hit me hard enough to hurt me. But the slap pushes me closer. Even if I hate him for it.

“I can tell you’re gonna cum, baby,” he growls, pumping into me harder. Deeper. I don’t have control over my body anymore. It’s all his. All Ruger Blackwood’s. I moan loudly as his last deep thrust stimulates the deepest part of my pussy and I cum hard. I try to stifle my cries with the pillow, but I don’t have any control here.

I just have to let go. Euphoria spreads through me and for those blissful moments, I forget our big fight. I don’t think about anything at all. Ruger grabs my ass cheeks as he buries himself inside me with one last deep thrust and he empties himself inside me intentionally and slowly, like he was holding back to fill me up like this on purpose. He kisses my shoulder softly, soothing the bruised parts of my skin that he bit previously.

He keeps his dick inside me until every last drop of his cum coats my inner walls. We’re both covered in sweat and joined at the hips. His body feels so heavy, perfectly masculine, and his deep steady breathing makes me want to curl up in his arms. This is exactly the feeling I wanted to fight. He won’t give up on what he wants. He’s too stubborn. And I’ve done enough wrong in this world.

I can’t let him kill someone who didn’t hurt me. We both have to draw the line somewhere. I’m not trying to be Harley Quinn over here. We can’t. Not with Eden.

Then again.

Maybe there is no “we”.

Ruger kisses my neck hard enough to leave a mark and then withdraws from my entrance. I feel empty without him and worse when he climbs out of bed, leaving me alone. I shouldn’t be this desperate to cuddle him but after the way he just fucked me from behind, I need some type of reassurance from him.

He doesn’t even look at me. He does look at the door that I fucked up with the ax. I try to hide my smile, not like Ruger notices because he’s smiling at the door. He makes an approving grunt and then walks out of the room. I feel empty. I don’t know if he’s going to come back and I resent both of us for making me care.

What does it say about me that I would fall for this man? I think it says more about men than it does about me, honestly. Because Ruger has been kinder to me than any other man. His brutality is complicated. Like mine. But he has no reason to envy my ex-boyfriend. I don’t even know where that man is.

I lose my train of thought when Ruger returns shirtless with just his boxer briefs plastered against his pale, sweaty body. Why is he so sexy? He looks like a viking in this dark, bluish gray light. I can’t stop looking at him, practically begging him to make eye contact with me. When he finally looks at me, I’m filled with regret. His gaze is hard. Empty. I know he has feelings somewhere underneath, but I know the look on his face just as well. He won’t let me into his heart if he doesn’t want to.

“I’ll kill the last one alone,” he says. “It’ll take some work and I need you to stay here with Eden while I’m gone.”

I hate myself for how pathetic I sound. “When are you coming back?”

My heart flips when he walks over to the bed instead of leaving the room again. He pulls me up so I’m positioned on my knees on the bed. Almost at his eye level. He grabs my chin and kisses me. But there’s no answer yet. Just this hint as to his emotional state.

“When I’m done,” he says. That wall is up. And nothing I do right now can make it come down.

“Eden will miss you. What do you want me to tell her?”

And what about the dog? What if he runs into a bear out there in the woods? I stiffen my body so he doesn’t realize how scared I am to be alone without him. I told him that I loved him and all he did was fuck me hard and clam up. I should do the same.

Even if I know what it means.

“Tell her that when I come back, I expect your shit packed. I’ll take you to Missouri and let Southpaw handle you.”

He kisses me again. I’m so confused. His tongue goes into my mouth and he grabs my cheeks. When he pulls away, I swear there’s a tear in Ruger’s eye. Maybe two.

“I love you,” he says. “But I know my heart.”

I can’t believe he’s doing this. Walking away. I don’t want to act like I’m pathetically in love with him. My feelings for Ruger are nothing like those “in love” feelings I had before. This is something more earth-shattering. I am a completely different person when I’m around him. I’m the safe version of myself. Brave enough to hold a gun to my rapist’s head. Brave enough to watch the men who hurt me die.

It feels so much better than turning the other cheek and letting the justice system paint me as a harlot for being subjected to a crime. I can’t say any of that to Ruger. He doesn’t understand my “complex thoughts”. Everything about him is purely masculine, yet emotional. I want to convince him to stay without begging him. I can’t bring myself to do it, even if I care about him.

I want him to choose to stay. To choose not to leave me alone here.

“Will you say goodbye to Eden?”

“Yes,” he says, his voice getting soft and so warm that I almost feel tears coming. “She’s my daughter. Of course.”

My heart is heavy as fuck when he walks out the door. I don’t want to get out of bed. I don’t want to watch him walk out of this house. I just listen to him walking around. Packing his shit. He starts the bike and then just like that… he’s gone. I don’t even know how much food this man left behind.

Ruger is just gone.