Madness: A Dark Revenge Romance

I’m freaking out. Fucking terrified at what I’m about to do. As of right now, I’m turning him over to the Lords.

And that changes everything.

He’s on to me. He knows something is wrong. I can’t hide it, so I’m going to have to convince him something else is bothering me. Or allow him to take my mind off it for a little while.

“Can we skip dinner?”

His frown deepens. “Of course. What else do you have in mind?” he asks.

I wrap my arms around his neck, causing the towel to drop to my feet, and his eyes fall to my chest. My nipples are already hard, and my heart pounds. I want him to fuck me. Maybe I’ll get lucky, and he’ll fuck me to death. Then I won’t have to make a decision.

“I want you to fuck me,” I say, lifting my chin.

His eyes meet mine, and a smirk plays on his gorgeous face. “I love it when my girl uses her words.”

Wetness pools between my legs, and I try to ignore the way my heart skips a beat. We’re on borrowed time. I want to ask him to make love to me. So I know what it feels like once in my life, but I can’t make the words come out. That would throw up too many red flags because I’m his whore, not the love of his life.

I reach up and press my lips to his. His hands drop to my ass, and he picks me up. My legs wrap around him, and I devour his lips. Like I’m on death row and this is my last meal. Which, in a way, it is. Possibly for both of us.

This will be our last time together. I’m going to let him do whatever the fuck he wants to me. I’m his offering. He just doesn’t know it.

He’s carrying me to the bedroom, and we fall onto the bed, him on top of me, his lips still devouring mine. My hands go to his shirt, and I grip the material. He gets the hint, pulling his lips from mine just long enough for me to rip his shirt up and over his head.

I moan into his mouth as my hands go between our bodies, and I fumble with his belt for a few seconds before I get it undone.

He pulls away from me and stands while I lie on the bed, panting and impatiently waiting. His hands go to his jeans and he removes them before yanking his belt from the loops and then tosses them to the far side of the room. “Roll over,” he orders, and I gladly oblige, placing my hands behind my back, knowing what he wants. He secures the leather belt around my wrists and then flips me back over.

I stare up at him, my arms restrained underneath me as he crawls back onto the bed. His knees spread mine wide, and he takes his hard cock into his hands, guiding it into my soaked pussy.

Arching my back, I cry out, and his hands wrap around my throat. He stills, cock buried into my cunt as he lowers his lips to mine and whispers, “This what you want, doll face?” He gently kisses my parted lips, teasing me.

“Yes, please…” I beg, my body fighting him trying to get him to move inside me, but he holds still, liking the way I squirm.

“You’re so desperate.” His lips smile against mine.

I groan impatiently. I need him to own me. To take me to that place where my mind stops. “Fuck me…” I swallow against his hands. “Please, Haidyn.”

He sits up, his hands tightening around my throat, cutting off my air, and my pussy clenches down on him. Yes! This is what I want. Fucking choke me out.

His blue eyes are on mine as I look up at him with heavy lashes. He slowly pulls out of my pussy, and I part my lips. My body’s natural reaction is to try to breathe, but I get nothing. He smiles down at me before his cock enters me once again painfully slow.

The room starts to spin, and my eyes flutter. This is how I’m going to go. Letting him kill me sounds better than giving him up.Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

He slams his hips forward, and my eyes roll back into my head. “That’s it, beautiful,” he says. “That’s what my whore likes.” He pulls out and slams into me again. My chest heaves, trying to breathe. “Come on my dick, doll face. Remind me that I own you.”

My body shudders as my vision fades to black. I’m not sure if I’m passing out or dying, but my body involuntarily jerks, begging to breathe while I come.

His hands let go of my neck, and I cough. Spit flies from my open mouth, and I realize I’m crying as he leans down and kisses my cheeks.

“Good girl, Charlotte.” His hands slide into my hair, and he yanks my head back to expose my neck to his lips. He tenderly kisses my racing pulse while his cock continues to fuck me rough and hard. Smashing my arms underneath us. I can no longer feel them. Nothing else matters except for him right now. He pulls away and orders, “Eyes on me, doll face. I want to see you while I come inside you.”

My heavy eyes find his, and it takes everything I have to keep them open.

“That’s it. That’s my good little whore.” The sound of our bodies slapping fills the room, and he lowers his lips to mine, kissing me passionately, burying himself deep inside me and pulsing as he comes.

I’m lying on my bed naked, covered in sweat, and trying to come down as I watch Haidyn dress. His back is toward me, and he’s pulling up his jeans over his black boxer briefs. Once he fastens his belt, he turns and walks over to the side of the bed and picks up his shirt off the floor. I watch shamelessly as he pulls it on, and my eyes are fascinated by how his muscles flex with each movement. My eyes catch sight of the scar from when he was shot before his shirt covers it, and I get a pain in my chest.

It makes me wonder what he’s been through. From the videos the Lords sent me—slitting his wrists to being electrocuted and whipped—I feel sorry for him. And men like Haidyn don’t want pity. They want respect.

What do the Lords want from him? Why send me to do it?

He leans over the side of the bed and plants a soft kiss on my forehead, and I want to wrap my arms around him and pull him back into my bed. We’re safe here. When he’s inside me, nothing else exists.

When he pulls away, I open my eyes. “Can we go for a ride?” I ask before I lose my nerve.

“You want to go for a ride?” he asks.

I sit up, nodding. “Yeah. On your bike.” I have to make him think he’s in charge and can control things.

“Of course.” He smiles at me, and my stomach sinks. I feel like I’m going to get sick. “Get dressed. We’ll go back to my house and grab a helmet and jacket for you.”

I wave him off. “I don’t need that stuff.”

He snorts. “You’re not getting on the back of a bike unless you’re wearing some kind of gear.”

“I’ve never seen you wear gear,” I state, whatever that entails.

He smirks. “I don’t care if I die.”

His words are like a slap in the face, and my breathing becomes labored. As he leans over once again, his lips gently touch mine as he speaks. “I don’t want something happening to you.” With that, he walks into my bathroom.

I take the second alone and bury my face in my hands. I’ve never hated the Lords more than I do right now. They did this on purpose. They put me in his life to take him away from me. I shouldn’t care about this monster as much as I do. I should want to give him up. But I want him to be mine. And I want to be his.

He cares about me. I’m not saying it’s love, but it’s more than what it started out as. Slowly, I get out of bed and walk to my closet to get dressed, still trying to think of a plan to save us both.

HAIDYN

Twenty minutes later, we’re at my house. I’m pulling my bike into the driveway while she parks her SUV in the garage. I walk over to the wall and grab a helmet and a jacket. They’re too big for her, but it’s better than nothing. I was being honest when I said that I didn’t care if I died. I’ve seen too many riders die due to a lack of gear.

She walks over to me on autopilot, and I slide her arms into the jacket and over her shoulders zipping it up. “Have you ever ridden on the back of a bike?” I ask.

She shakes her head. I want to spank her ass with my belt for not using her words, but I’ll let it slide this time because I have bigger plans for her.

She’s quiet. More than usual. My eyes look over her jeans and tennis shoes, and I watch her nibble on her lip. Her hands have a death grip on her phone, and her eyes stare straight ahead. Her back is rigid, and she still wears the ring that dipshit gave her as if it means something.

I pretended to be surprised that she canceled dinner, but I wasn’t. She’s getting easier to read. Unable to hide what she’s thinking from me.

She wanted to feel something from me, so she chose sex. She wanted me to erase her mind of the fake boyfriend. Even though it wasn’t real, he still made her feel bad for what we’re doing. Fuck that piece of shit.

I wanted to fuck with her head in her bed. I wasn’t gentle, but I wasn’t as rough as I’ve been with her body. I wanted her to feel me, and I wanted her to understand how she felt when with me. The Lords teach that a mind is a powerful thing. And when you start to second-guess yourself, it all goes downhill.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Her brows furrow, and I can’t tell if she’s surprised by that answer or confused that I asked.

“Hold on to me and follow my lead.” She’s never ridden before, but I’m not going to do anything drastic with her on the back. I want her to feel safe. She already seems to be terrified. “It may feel awkward or scary, but I’ve got you, okay?”

“Okay.” She nods, dropping her eyes to the garage floor, and a silence lingers.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Charlotte?” I ask, reaching out and cupping her face.

“Yeah.” She jumps, surprised at the contact, and nods. “I’m good.”

“Is there anywhere in particular where you want to ride to?” I ask, wanting to keep her in conversation.

“No,” she answers softly.

I press my lips to hers, and she instantly melts in my hands. Her body presses into mine, and I slap her ass to keep it light. “Let’s go,” I say, pushing the helmet onto her head and buckling it for her.