One Night: Promised(150)

My eyes close and I drop my head back, not wanting to look at his face any more. I don’t recognise it. This isn’t the man I’ve fallen in love with, but I don’t stop this because in a screwed-up kind of way, this will help me get over Miller Hart, and the fact that he doesn’t chastise me for depriving him of my face only enflames the hurt further. The reasons for my stupid decision to do this are suddenly all I can think of as I blank out and accept his brutality. I think of all of the loving words he’s said to me, all of the tender touches he’s given me.

‘I’ll never do anything less than worship you. I’ll never be a drunken fumble. Every time I take you, Livy, you’ll remember it. Each and every moment will be etched on that beautiful mind of yours for ever. Every kiss. Every touch. Every word.’

Miller’s loud roar pulls me straight back into a room that’s cold and unwelcoming, despite the warmth and luxury of the surroundings. And something strange happens – something out of my control. I’m shocked, my body taking on a mind of its own and responding to his vicious strikes. I orgasm. But it passes with no element of pleasure attached. I’m attacked by one last round of thundering strikes before he raises me slightly to gain more leverage, then finishes on an ear-piercing bellow that resounds around the room. He holds himself inside me and drops his head back, his chest expanding at a crazy rate and sweat pouring down his neck. I’m numb. I can’t feel the pain of the leather or the agony in my heart.

‘Any man who’s done anything less than worship you should be fucking shot!’

My legs are pushed down from his waist, and he pulls out of me quickly, but he doesn’t start to release me. He leaves me on a quiet curse and goes into the bathroom, slamming the door viciously behind him.

All of the missing emotion from that encounter is made up for when I begin to weep. My head goes limp, my chin hitting my chest, and I can’t even find the strength to relieve the pain in my wrists by getting myself back on the bed. I’m just hanging lifelessly, my body jerking from my sobs.

Destroyed.

Empty.

I hear the door open, but I keep my head down. I can’t look at him and I can’t let him see that I’ve fallen apart. I goaded him, pushed his boundaries. He’s hidden this man from me. He’s fought his control the whole time.

‘Fuck!’ he roars, and I drag my heavy head up to see his face pointed towards the ceiling. His features are distorted . . . disturbed. He lets out another ear-piercing bellow and swings around, sending his fist crashing into the bathroom door and splintered wood crashing to the floor.

A suppressed sob escapes my mouth and my chin falls back to my chest.

‘Livy?’ His voice is softer but doesn’t ease my wretched state as I feel his hands working around my wrists. He wraps an arm around my stomach to hold me up while he unravels the belt, and I hiss in pain when my arms drop lifelessly to my side. ‘Livy, you let go of the fucking bar!’ He sits me on the end of the bed and kneels on the floor before me, pushing my hair away so he can see me. I pull my eyes up to meet his. My face is soaked with tears and Miller is just a blur through my glazed eyes, but the horror on his face is clear, even through my distorted vision. ‘Oh Jesus.’ He grabs my wrists, lifting my hands to his mouth, and kisses my knuckles repeatedly, but I flinch, pain searing my flesh from his hold, making his face fall further. Shifting his grip to my forearms, he studies the angry welts silently until I pull my arms away from him and stand on shaky legs. ‘Livy?’

I ignore the anxiety in his voice and pick up my knickers, pulling them on as fast as my wobbly limbs will allow.

‘Livy, what are you doing?’ he asks, moving in front of me to get in the field of my vision.

I glance up, seeing panic and uncertainty. ‘I’m going.’

‘No.’ He shakes his head and rests his hands on my waist.

‘Don’t touch me!’ I shout, jumping back to escape him. I can’t bear it.

‘Oh God, no!’ He swipes my dress up from the floor and holds it behind his back. ‘You can’t go.’

He’s wrong. For once I will find it very easy to walk away from him. ‘Can I have my dress?’

‘No!’ He chucks it across the room and takes my waist again. ‘Livy, that man isn’t who I am.’

‘Get off!’ I pull out of his hold and start towards the spot where my dress has landed, but he beats me to it. ‘Please, give me my dress.’

‘No, Livy. I’m not letting you leave.’

‘I never want to see you again!’ I shout in his face, making him wince.