27. Bleed for Me

27

BLEED FOR ME

SOPHIA

I wake to the sound of Mazen stirring. His cell phone, most likely lost in the pile of our discarded clothes, sounds from somewhere on the bedroom floor. In his search for each of the pleasure points on my body, our clothes, responsibilities, and inhibitions went out the window, along with all rational thoughts about the line we had dived over, giving less than two shits what the morning would bring.

Our hands, mouths, and desires guided our every move instinctively. His hands explored my back, running deliciously up and down my spine like he was counting my vertebrae. His lips nipped, licked, and traced a path over my skin as if he was memorizing each spot that drove me absolutely wild. Time, along with the reality that faced us, took a back seat as ripples of arousal, unsated need, and the desire to be flesh on flesh consumed us both.

Welcoming Mazen into my body was like breathing. It was natural. Easy. My body accepted him without thought of the hardships the future would bring. We spent hours exploring, teasing, bathing in the millions of glowing stars that shattered around us when we came in unison over and over again. I'd cry out my release, gasping in sweet agony, as Mazen tore apart my soul while simultaneously piecing it back together again. His kisses, gentle and maddening touches, and promises became the glue.

Exquisite harmony. A reunion. I was freed by Mazen's touch. His surrender. Glowing as bright as the sun from the passion and love that burned between us as hot as a blazing orb floating in space.

When I was pleasantly exhausted, it was far too late to text Lacey and the others, letting them know we'd landed and made it to the hotel. We were a little too preoccupied to care about mundane tasks like being responsible adults and charging our phones, completing my skin care routine or even brushing our teeth. The reality of neglecting what is questionably the most important task we forgot is chiming incessantly, beckoning us like an SOS.

"They probably think Caddell kidnapped us both this time." I laugh, unable to help it while keeping one hand covering my mouth—morning breath is as vile as the smell of a body piercing.

Huskiness caused by sleep lingers in his tone when he says, "Too soon."

"Is it?" I quip at his back. "Humor is my natural trauma response."

Feeling lighter than I have in years, I lean forward and press my lips against his naked shoulder, a real smile stretching wide across my face. Today will most likely be an even bigger shit show than yesterday and the day before. I don't let it deter my mood.

Wrapping Mazen in my arms from behind him like a cocoon of blissfulness, I exhale a long sigh of happiness. " Want to have sex again before you turn your jerk meter back to level ten?"

I press my exposed chest into his back. The movement instantly makes my nipples harden. The passion that boiled over last night will soon be replaced with an edge of uncertainty. I might as well continue to chisel away at the stone-cold wall of hatred he likes to stand behind.

Running my hands through his night-black hair, I pull hard. The movement causes his neck to bend. It's not lost on me that I'm playing the role of the big spoon.

The epic catastrophe facing us can wait a little while longer. Hot breath slips past my parted mouth, my lips hovering over the rim of his lobe. "If you don't want to wake up, give me a sign."

My tongue darts out, running along the shell of his ear as Mazen attempts to lay motionless, but fails. A faint tremble dances through his body, causing his bones to stir.

"I met someone in the bar here years ago." My confession is meant to taunt him awake. "I'm sure I can find another willing suitor to—"

In a motion quicker than a blink, I'm pinned on my back. A very awake and angry rock star stares back at me.

"If you finish that goddamn sentence, I'll take you so hard that your pussy will bleed for me for days."

The tilt of my hips is like a doormat welcoming his filthy threat inside. Legs parting, I bite my bottom lip. "There he is."

His heart thuds wildly against my chest for a beat before his mouth parts. "Is that what you want, Rosella?" he asks stoically. "You want it so hard that I mark you?"

My skin catches fire under his palm as it skates up my body. The path it floats over is left in a burn so smoldering that I'm fearful his fingerprints are permanent, a tattoo—a reminder of his presence. He plants the center of his palm at the base of my throat, fingertips brushing on either side. Eyes as dark as the ocean's depth at one thousand meters rivet my body and soul in place. I'm helpless, immobile. It's a perfect place to be.

I couldn't tear my gaze away from him if I tried.

Hesitating for a moment, I get lost in his arresting face. Mazen looks a couple years younger with the hard gel that styles his hair missing. The absence of worry in the usual tight lines at his mouth is evidence that nothing has pissed him off this morning … yet. His eyes are glossy with sleep. No, that's not right. They're hazy with need. I can feel his erection thickening on my stomach where it rests. I refrain from gasping in delight.

Mazen Wilde wants to ravage me.

Last night, our bodies were reacquainted. They appraised each other with familiar eyes. It was like the first slow dance at your senior prom. You and your date are both a little wary. Anxious about stepping on one another's toes so you fumble a step or two. By the third dance, you're so in tune with one another that you get lost in the music and the touch of your partner. The music fades so thin into the air that you don't even hear it over your pounding heartbeats.

This morning is like our fifth dance. The nerves are gone. The music is blaring, and we're ready to have a little fun.

When he doesn't continue, I purse my lips before deciding that open communication is something we severely lacked before. Choosing to rectify our wrongs, I toss off my proverbial corsage, unzip my prom dress, and kiss the prom king like my lips have been carved by the hands of sin.

"I want to bleed for you."

His eyebrows rise just a tad at my revelation .

It's usually Cannon who brings out this side of me. The woman who isn't faulted by her dark desires at enjoying a little pain before her pleasure. If we're doing this, there's no going back. Mazen's going to meet every version of myself that exists. I woke up wanting to block out everything that is waiting for us beyond this hotel door.

Which is exactly what I do when I reach down, bypass Mazen's massive appendage that extends higher than my belly button, even with our hips aligned, and slide my hand to his taint. With a feathery brush of my index finger, he sucks in a breath and holds it.

"You're going to get some news that might change your life forever." Another brush over his sensitive scrotum. "When you do, I want your body to remember how good it felt to be with me. To really be with me and lose yourself."

"I told you, the results don't matter anymore."

"You told me a lie. They matter even more now." Cupping his balls, I pull them back an inch. "You want to know. I want to know. Just remember this"—my hand moves up his steel-hard length until my thumb circles his hole—"felt like heaven."

"Sex isn't a weapon." His narrowed eyes appraise me.

My heart beats with the pulse of his voice when I find my own. "It is when it's the only thing you're capable of wielding."

"Sophia." My name is flat on his tongue. He wants to chastise me, but he's resisting. "You're capable of giving me much more than your body." The hand holding my breath hostage skates across my jawline, settling on my cheek. "You know that, don't you?"

"What, my heart?" I scoff, the green of my eyes dulling—I'm sure of it.

A simple nod, paired with the gentlest, most tender glint of adoration I've ever seen, flashes in Mazen's stone-colored eyes that bore into my own.

"If you can still look at me like you are right now after we get those results, we can talk about matters of the heart. Until then …" I pause when my face heats, and moisture gathers in my core. "I need you to fuck me like you did that night we met. Like I'm just some whore you met at the bar. Mazen, I need you to hate me again. Resent me if only just for show."

"Why?" His muscles coil, tensing at my request.

I swallow tightly. "Because last night was too perfect. You made me feel too much. The results are going to be a match. I can feel it in my heart." Without prompt, my hand hovers over the beating organ in my chest. "You're going to resent me for not telling you about him, just like you did when you were mad that I didn't remember you."

"What's fucking you like a groupie going to prove then?"

"It won't prove anything. That's not the point. It'll help me erase the memory of you worshiping my body like I was your queen last night."

He grumbles inaudibly in a tone that tells me he definitely requires more than four hours of sleep or less truth in the morning. Still hovering over my body, his toned arms flexing, he roughly yanks my naked body and pushes me over so that I'm face down on the mattress.

"You want to be fucked like the faceless fucking women I screwed night after night trying to obliterate the memory of you from my head? City after goddamn city, I tried to burn the sound of your moans from my brain. Nothing but meaningless sex is what you want from me, Rosella?"

The, " Yes ," that escapes my lips is mumbled due to the bunched-up comforter shoved in my face .

There's a split second where I think Mazen cares about me so much that he won't be able to shove aside his own feelings to give me what I need. A moment of reflection passes. He's contemplating the very nature of his being by giving in once more to the dark that the light of our passion last night finally pulled him from.

"Mazen," I ground out his name.

Almost pensively, he asks, "You're sure about this?"

Why is he still asking, still ensuring this is really what I want?

A chivalrous rock star sounds like the punch line of a joke.

Panic and fear riot in my stomach. I'm falling in love with the father of my child.

No amount of sex is going to be able to smother the beat of my erratic heart. The savagery of this moment, of this trip, and the results, which are most likely already waiting in his inbox, are more frightening than failing to pay off Caddell.

"Stop asking, and take me already."

Like a hunter luring out its prey, I push myself up on all fours. An offering to destroy the affection he treated me with so eloquently last night.

I'm surprised when his brash words captivate me as deeply as if he were singing one of his ballads. "Spread that hole wide. I want to see you gaping."

A wide, earnest smile is on my face a second later when Mazen gives himself over completely. Finally complying to my demand, he plunges into my opening with enough force to make me see stars.

I win.