He twisted on the bed; the blankets kicked away from his nude body as he fought whatever demons haunted his nightmares.
“Too much blood…” he cried out again. “Oh God, Cade it hurts…”
He twisted, his voice ragged, fighting the memories, the horror of the past.
“Cade…too much blood…” He cried out the words again.
Heather moved closer to the bed, the light from the bedside lamp was dim, but she gasped in horror at what she saw. Scars, unimaginable scars, scored his body from his abdomen to his thighs. Razor thin, crisscrossing. She swallowed tightly, wondering what could have possibly cut him so deep, and yet with such thin precision to leave such
scars. She had seen him naked before, but never like this, while he was helpless. And she realized that though he had never tried to hide his erection from her, he had always made certain the scars weren’t so visible.
“No.” He thrashed on the bed. “No, goddamn you. I did it. I did it…”
Heather cried out, jerking back as he came up in the bed, his hand gripping her wrist and jerking her to him.
“Sam?” She cried out as his eyes, nearly black with pain and shock stared into hers.
His hand tightened on her wrist as he blinked at her, perspiration covering his body as the air around them grew thick with tension. Heather shuddered as she watched him, wondering how in the hell he had remained sane with the strength of these nightmares haunting him.
“Sam.” She reached out with her free hand to touch his face.
“No.” He gripped her wrist, holding it away from him, staring back at her as though he wasn’t certain why she was there, or what she wanted.
“You were having a nightmare.” She swallowed tightly, licking her lips in nervous awareness of the sexual heat beginning to build in his expression.
She felt her breasts growing heavy, swelling as his gaze dropped to them. Her face flushed as her nipples hardened beneath his stare, feeling his interest even through the cool silk of her robe. Her body was flushed, her cunt heating, dampening further.
“Heather.” His hands tightened on her wrists. “I’m sorry.”
“Sam?” She watched the intent fill his expression, bleak and hot, desperate.
Sexual tension wrapped around them, and as her gaze flickered to his lap she watched his cock swelling, thickening before her eyes. She tried to pull her wrists from his grasp, suddenly nervous, uncertain. Sam was at his most dangerous after the nightmares, and though he had never been known to hurt Marly or Sarah when the nightmares raged within, she knew that his sexuality was at its peak then.
“I need you.” His voice was hoarse, hungry, yet still shaded with horror.
“Sam,” she gasped his name as he pulled her to the bed, releasing one of her wrists only long enough to transfer it to the other hand as he released the loose knot in her robe.
He jerked her across his lap and she fought for balance. The robe was nearly torn from her as he reached to the nightstand, fumbling with a drawer as she fought to move away from him.
“No.” His hand pressed against her lower back. “Stay still. For God’s sake, stay still, Heather. Please.”
She struggled against him, not frightened, yet unwilling to just submit to whatever he needed. Everyone submitted to what Sam needed. They pampered and coddled him, and tried to ease memories and nightmares that only grew as the years went by.
Heather refused to pamper, or to submit. She knew that taking him wouldn’t be easy. She knew what he wanted, what he needed, and knew the rough ride she would receive in the bargain. But she was determined to break the rage growing in his soul. If she had to fight him to do it, then by God, she would fight.
She pushed against the bed, struggling to come to her knees, when his hand landed on the cheek of her rear. She stilled in shock. Not in shock that he had done it, in shock at the flash of pleasure that struck her sharper than his hand.
“Stay still.” He moved, flipping her to her stomach on the bed.
Before she could struggle away, do more than bring her knees up, he was there. His hands gripped her wrists, stretching them out until he could restrain first one, then the other to the heavy posts of his bed with the leather restraints he had obviously brought back to his room.
The long straps with their wrist cuffs were secured quickly, her strangled screams of outrage doing little to deter him as he moved to her feet. Excitement raced through her body, though she fought him, kicking out at him, fighting to keep him from restraining her legs as well. She wouldn’t submit. She wouldn’t give in. Despite her halfhearted struggles, he managed to clip the leather restraints on her ankles and attach them to the footboard posts.
Then his hand went between her thighs. She cried out as his fingers slid through the folds of her pussy, gathering the thick cream that flowed from her vagina. Proof that she was aroused; that what he was doing was more exciting than anything she had known in her life.
There was only enough slack in the straps that restrained her ankles to allow her to lift her hips. She pressed closer to the mattress though, struggling to evade his fingers as she heard his breathing, harsh and heavy behind her.
“I told you, stay away after the nightmares, Heather.” His voice was broken, gasping as he bent over her. “I warned you, and you came anyway.”