Fury (5 page)

She
thought the words, but she couldn’t seem to form them, to say them aloud.

“I
was just going to go back to bed.” Her throat felt so damn tight, and yet he
still just stood there, blocking her exit.

“Your
brother’s dead.”

She
was frozen in place, his words surrounding her, making everything else fade
away. Shaking her head, Angelina wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. He’d
just blurted it out like he as telling her the weather.

“My
brother’s dead?” She could hear the tightness in her voice, the shock.

“Yeah,”
was all he said.

Looking
down, Angelina didn’t know what to say to that. Marco was dead, and although
she should have been sad, heartbroken even, because he was her brother, all she
felt was this … relief.

“Did
you do it?” she found herself asking, not sure why she wanted to know, but
needing to hear him say it if he did. They held each other’s stares, and
finally he pushed away from the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest,
further making his muscles bulge.

“And
if I did, would that make you hate me more?”

His
dark hair was a wild mess of short strands around his head, as if he had been
running his hands through it. He looked dark and sexy, like a demon, or maybe
the devil standing before her. She found herself shaking her head.

“I
don’t hate you as it is.” Whispering the words, she didn’t know if she should
smack herself for saying them, or just embrace it. Angelina should hate him,
despise him to her very soul. But she didn’t, and that confused her, made her
feel all kinds of fucked up.

He
lifted a dark eyebrow and smirked, as if he found the whole thing funny. That
had her heart dropping into her belly.

“You
don’t hate the man that followed you for weeks, stalked you, found out every
detail of your day, and then broke into your house?” She didn’t respond, and he
continued. “You don’t hate the man that drugged you, held your naked body in
his arms, looked his fill of you, and took you back to his place as his
captive?”

Her
throat was so dry, her tongue swollen.

He
chuckled, but it was dark, haunting. “How can you not hate the man that has you
chained up in a room, keeping you prisoner?” Fury stepped closer to her, but
she was frozen in place, unable to retreat. “Maybe you’ll hate the man that
could fuck you until you can’t walk straight, simply because he wants to get
back at your father.”

Angelina
did take a step back, because as much as she was afraid of Fury right now, at
the challenge he presented, the danger and violence that poured from him, what
she was most afraid of was herself and the arousal she felt.

She
was wet, her nipples hard, and the heavy weight of the chain around her ankle
made this situation hotter, made her realize this man could do whatever he
wanted to her and she wouldn’t have a choice but to accept it all.

And you’d like that, crave it even.
You really are one messed up woman.

Chapter
Eight

 
Her arousal rose, and that made Angelina’s
anger do the same. She hated herself, her body’s reaction to this man, to her
situation. Had she been so sheltered, locked away that this imprisonment made
her so hot she couldn’t even breathe? Or was it something about Fury that had
all self-respect and common sense leave her?

She
clenched her hands at her sides and shook her head, although she didn’t know
what she was trying to deny. Pushing her way past him she was surprised he let
her leave. He was drunk and arrogant enough, that Angelina assumed he’d make
her stay, force her to listen to what he had to say. Marco was dead, and she
couldn’t even find enough emotion to give a shit. There would be no tears shed,
no remorse for the shitty sibling relationship they had. They’d had nothing
together in terms of having a family bond, and aside from her brother being
blood, he’d been a stranger to her, a cruel man that terrified her.

Going
into the room she turned, about to shut the door, but a startled sound left her
at the fact Fury was right behind her.

“Go,
leave,” she said, her voice raised, her anger and frustration making her
arousal take a backseat, and having her strength rise. But she had to crane her
neck back just to look into Fury’s face, and Angelina couldn’t help the desire
that washed through her at the sight of all the masculinity that poured from
him.

“You
got some balls telling me what I should do.” He stepped further into the room,
and while staring at her he shut the door behind him. They were closed in
together, the smell of whatever dark and spicy cologne he wore, and the scent
of the alcohol coming from him, filling the room and making her wetter.

“You’re
a bastard.” Angelina clenched her jaw and knew pushing him like this wasn’t
smart. But she was pissed at herself, and at her family, and especially at the
situation she was in. She had no control over what was happening, and it
reminded her of being back at home. She fucking hated it.

And
then he was on her before she could even grasp what in the hell he was doing.
He used his upper body to push her backward, and she fell onto the mattress,
bouncing for a second, his big body pressing her down. He wedged his hips
between her thighs, and she parted her lips as shock and a shot of heightened
desire consumed her. Angelina sucked in a lungful of air, feeling dizzy and
lightheaded.

“You
think I’m a bastard?” he challenged her in a deep, low voice. His focus was on
her lips, and she felt herself getting drunk from her lust. “You’re pissed
because I have you here against your will?” The way he spoke didn’t sound like
a question, but more that he was taunting her.

“You’re
an asshole, a psychopath.” She struggled, but it wasn’t as forceful as she
could have made it.

He
smirked, but it was dark, haunting.

“I
know,” was all he said.

He
was so damn cocky, but sure of himself. He was a bastard for what he had done,
for what he was doing to her, but it also made the dark, hidden part of her
rise up and appreciate it … need more of it.

“Fuck.
You.”

Why am I playing with the devil,
pushing him like this?

“Mmm.”
He pushed up a bit and looked down the length of her body. “I can make that
happen if you are desperate for my cock.” He pressed his hips further against
her, and the feel of his huge erection pressed right on her pussy had an
involuntary gasp leaving her.

“I
want you to tell me that you want me, even though I’m a motherfucker.” He let
those words sink in before continuing.

“I’ll
never say that.”
Even though it is true.

He
leaned in close, and she held her breath, waiting to see what he would do, what
he would say. When their lips were only an inch apart she turned her head, not
wanting to give in to the twisted desires she felt. Truth was she was so wet,
so aroused, that it was hard to even think straight.

He
gripped her chin and forced her to look at him again. For long seconds he
didn’t say anything, didn’t even move, but his damn erection was like a thick
steel rod pressed right up against her pussy.

“I
can feel how hot your cunt is, Angelina.” He growled out the words, like he
wanted her to be humiliated. “I bet if I touched your cunt you’d be wet.”

“You’re
drunk and a bastard,” she whispered. Would he have done this, acted this way if
he’d been sober?

“I
am, on both accounts.” He ground his erection into her, and she hated that her
body had this reaction to him. His dick was pressed right up against her pussy,
and even with layers of clothing separating them Angelina could feel how big
and long he was, how thick and massive his cock was.

I shouldn’t want this. I shouldn’t
need this.

“I
don’t want this.” She lied.

He
ground harder into her, rotating his hips so he rubbed her clit, and hot tears
spilled out of her eyes. “Yes, you do.” He leaned in another inch closer. “You
want it bad enough you’re lying to yourself and me.”

She
shook her head, but couldn’t find the words to make this stop.

It’s because you don’t want to stop
this. You do want him.

Angelina’s
traitorous body was giving her arousal away, and she wanted to scream, to claw
at him, and make him see she was stronger than this.

He
pulled back just enough to look down at her chest. She might be dressed in an
oversized shirt and sweats, but she was braless and panty-less. Angelina should
have been humiliated more than she was, but the sight of his half-lidded eyes,
the way his mouth was parted and he was breathing harder, and the feel of his
erection, had that embarrassment leaving.

Her
pussy grew wetter at the gentle yet insistent thrusting of his hips between her
legs, of his cock adding pressure right between her thighs.

“Are
you wet for me?” he asked, his focus still on her chest, and probably staring
right at the way her nipples stabbed through the material of her shirt.

“No.”
She lied again.

He
lifted his gaze to hers then. “Fucking liar.”

She
started breathing harder.

“You’re
telling me if I touched you between those luscious thighs of yours, pushed my
fingers through your cunt, you wouldn’t be soaked for me?” He lifted an
eyebrow, his expression full of challenge.

She
didn’t answer.

A
moment of silence passed between them, and then shocking the hell out of her he
placed his hand between them, right over her pussy. Fury leaned in close to her
mouth, their lips nearly touching.

With
her sweatpants stopping him from touching bare flesh, Angelina closed her eyes
and tried to appear like this wasn’t affecting her.

God, but it is, and I know I can’t
hide how I feel.

“Ask
me for it.”

She
shook her head, not verbally saying anything.

He
applied more pressure between her thighs.

“Fucking
ask me to touch you.”

Biting
her lip, she tried not to moan when Fury started rubbing her clit through her
sweats.

“Fuck
you,” she managed to say, but it was a whispered moan.

He
growled right before he pulled adjusted himself above her, ripped her pants
down her legs and off one foot, and pushed her thighs apart again. And then he
was touching her bare pussy and growling out like some kind of feral animal.
Angelina tried pushing at his hard, pronounced pecs, but she wasn’t really
trying if she were being honest.

“You’re
fucking soaked for me.” He had his mouth by her ear now, murmuring the words.
His jean-covered cock was pressed against her inner thighs now, so hard, so …
huge. Fury started rubbing his fingers through her pussy, and it was hard for her
not to just let go and enjoy this, to be swept away by the dark desires and
promise of what he could give her. A part of her wanted to just say fuck it all
and be that twisted woman that accepted her dark arousal.

I hate myself for wanting this, for
wanting him.

“Is
your life so fucked up you want a bastard like me touching you, getting you
off?”

Biting
her lip, she must be fucked up to enjoy this. He rubbed her clit, and a gasp of
pleasure left her.

“Were
you just waiting for someone to be a motherfucker to you, to be dirty and open
this side of you up?” His alcohol-laced breath covered her face, but it was
intoxicating, and brought her lust out even more. He applied just a little bit
of pressure, and she felt tendrils of an orgasm rising violently to the
surface.

“No,
this isn’t what I want.” She tried pushing him away, but it was weak, and she
knew it was all in vain. But Fury didn’t move, didn’t relent in his onslaught.

“If
I keep touching this hot little cunt of yours will you come for me, Angelina?”

She
opened her mouth, maybe going to say no, or tell him yes, but a little mewl of
pleasure left her instead.

He
continued to rub her clit until her orgasm was right there at the surface. His
focus was on her the entire time, his eyes locked on hers, and this intense
expression covering his face. Surrendering to him seemed so wrong, but it also
seemed so good, so right.

But
for as much as she wanted this, wanted to just let go and submit to what was
happening around her, she knew she had to be strong, at least for herself. She
pushed at his chest with all her strength, fighting off the pleasure that
wanted to take her over the edge. But Fury was so damn strong, and it was like
trying to move a ton of bricks off of her.

“Just
give in, Angelina,” he said gruffly, softly.

Everything
seemed to fade away as she felt her orgasm finally peak. Closing her eyes
again, she curled her nails into his hard, warm flesh, and let everything else
just vanish. Fury kept rubbing her clit, prolonging the pleasure, and she
wished this moment would last forever, that this feeling would never leave her.

Fury
was thrusting his cock against her inner thigh, the hardness of it impressive.
She panted, tried to suck in air, but it was fruitless. Everything was fading
away as she drifted from this moment. And then she felt her pleasure lessen,
felt herself come back to reality. Angelina heard Fury’s breath hitch, heard
him start to groan, and she knew he was getting off, too.

He
picked up his pace, rocking his hips back and forth against her, and while
holding her gaze with his, he pulled his hand from between their bodies and
started sucking the wetness—her arousal—from his fingers. That sight alone had
another smaller orgasm rushing through her, and she lifted her hips, needing
friction. It felt good … he felt good on top of her.

Once
he stopped rocking against her he pushed himself away. He sat on the edge of
the bed for a second, neither speaking nor moving. But she didn’t know what in
the hell to say. After the fact she felt like, that what they’d done, what
she’d allowed herself to experience and feel, was wrong on a deeper level.

Fury
got up and kept his back to her, and the atmosphere changed to something
darker. He turned and looked at her then, and she couldn’t help but notice the
way he had a wet spot on the front of his jeans. A dark thrill moved through
her at the fact she’d been the one to cause him to lose control and get off
from dry humping her.

“Fuck,”
he said on a harsh whisper and turned from her once more.

Angelina
pushed herself up so she could look at Fury. He ran his hand over his hair. His
muscles flexed from the act, and the atmosphere changed, the room becoming
chilled. His body was stiff, and he reached out and grabbed the door handle
without turning it. It seemed like minutes passed before he finally left her
alone in the room.

In
that moment she didn’t know if she’d just sold her soul for a few seconds of
pleasure, or if what she’d done would forever change the course of events in
her life. Either way it scared the hell out of her.