Chapter 22

ChapterTwenty-Two

ISLA

The power surging under my skin is electric. Never in a million years would I have believed myself capable of taking over with a man as dominant as Bryce. But he’s made me feel so safe and secure that all this feels natural and, if I’m honest, fun.

He’s given me a gift. This act has helped tear the bars of my prison right off its hinges. A gift that I’ll always treasure for the rest of my life.

On my knees fucking a man up the ass who’s so fierce that I truly believe he would destroy the world to protect me.

The end of the strap-on in me hits my G-spot, and the vibrations make me wild with passion and lust. Every time I thrust into Bryce, I’m rewarded with the sensations.

“I’m gonna come,” Bryce growls.

I speed up my thrusts until I’m on the brink with him. My eyes shut, my body explodes as Bryce grunts, and we tumble into oblivion together.

I pull out of him and watch him on his knees, hot ropes of cum visible in his hand. “Turn around, Pup.”

Bryce falls onto his back and lifts his hand to my mouth.

I lick a straight line along his finger, savoring his salty flavor. Gripping his wrist, I turn his palm to face him. “Tastes good. Clean it up.”

The tip of Bryce’s tongue sensually trails up his palm, and I’m feral, watching him clean his hand. I straddle his chest and lean forward, taking his tongue between my lips and sucking the cum into my mouth before spitting it back into his.

“Thank you, Bryce.”

His hands frame my face, and he pulls me forward. Our mouths clash, and our passion for each other burns bright.

Bryce glides his hand down my body, and I hear the buckles of the strap-on being released before it crashes to the floor beside the bed. His strong hands grip my waist, and he flips us over so he’s on top, peering down at me. “I want to fuck you every second of every day.”

“Well, what’s stopping you?”

He gets off me and saunters into the bathroom, and immediately I miss the warmth of his body.

“Well, I’d be buried in you right now,” he says as he taps at his phone, “but I think I should get cleaners into the woods?”

“Cleaners?”

Bryce finishes texting and puts his phone down on the nightstand. He rubs the back of his neck. “Yes, they’ll come and clean up the mess I made. Get rid of the body.”

“Paul.”

“Yes, Paul.”

“You killed your son,” I whisper.

“When I was younger, I belonged to a gang. I knew a guy whose sister they raped, and you know what his parents did?”

I shake my head.

He shifts on the bed, his elbows on his knees, eyes cast down. “They killed her. Fucked up, isn’t it? She was raped, and instead of helping her, they killed her because she had dishonored them.” Bryce turns to look at me, his eyes haunted. “The fucked-up part is that the girl’s family apologized to the rapist and his family. Their daughter got raped, and they sided with the rapist. If they really wanted to do something about her honor, they should have slit the motherfuckin’ rapist’s throat. Paul made his choice, and I made mine. It was about honor. By hurting you, he became what I detest most in this world. No man has a right to put his hands on a woman unless it’s making her come repeatedly, per her request.”

Bryce turns and grips my head, bringing me toward him. His forehead touches mine, and he whispers, “Can you forgive me?”

“Forgive you? For what?”

“For letting you see the darkness within me.”

My heart aches for him, for the sadness in his life, and for the devastation of my existence. I crawl into his lap and wrap my arms around his neck. “We are multi-layered, Bryce. Your darkness does not define you. But for me to love you, I need to comprehend its capabilities. You can’t truly love without knowing all the dark corners that remain. You may have done some bad things, but you are not an evil man. Trust me, I’ve seen evil men.”

He pushes my hair behind my ear and smiles. “You might change your mind based on what I tell you next.”

“I doubt it.”

“When you were sleeping earlier in the city, I saw your pussy and wanted to fuck you.”

“Okay.”

“I still want to fuck you while you’re sleeping.”

“I’m not opposed to it. I trust you.”

Holding me with one arm, he leans over and opens his nightstand drawer, pulling out a pill bottle and shaking the contents.

“What’s that?”

“Just sleeping pills. I have bad insomnia.”