Before I can ask what the fuck that means, he pulls the door closed and scoops me up in his arms.
“You’re going to fall,” I cry, throwing my hand out.
“Not before you, baby,” he says, his feet rasping on the stone steps as he takes careful steps down into the pitch black where he forced me onto my knees. I swallow hard, my heart racing so fast I think I’m deprived of oxygen and can’t think straight. My hand gropes along the dirty stones of the wall beside the stairs, sure he’s going to pitch down them at any moment. But he sways to a halt when we reach the bottom, then fumbles forward.
His breathing is ragged and uneven, and I’m suddenly scared of more than him forcing himself on me. He’s unraveling, unhinged, and I remember how dead-eyed he was when he was beating Colt. Did he even know who he was hitting?
I don’t think so. But I think he would have killed him if I hadn’t stopped him. If he got pissed enough, would he beat me to death down here?
He stumbles against something and then lowers me into an armchair. “I just want to make you feel good,” he mumbles against my mouth. Then he sinks onto the floor in front of the chair, pulling me so my back is flat on the cushion, and my legs are on either side of him. I struggle to sit upright, but he pushes his mouth between my thighs, inhaling the scent of my arousal, his warm breath heating me through my sweatpants when he exhales.
“Royal,” I say, pressing a palm against his forehead, my voice strong. “I don’t want you to do that.”
“You smell so good,” he says, rubbing his face against me, then pushing it over the front of my pants and onto my lower belly, his hands bracketing my hips.
“It’s too… Intimate,” I say, my heart racing in my throat. I hate the darkness here, the way it makes me feel trapped and detached from my body, like I did in those closets my mother shoved me in.
I wait for him to laugh or make some derisive comment. Instead, he slides his body up onto the chair on top of mine, and kisses me. “Let me make you cum,” he murmurs against my lips. “I want to feel your cunt squeezing my finger when you make a mess all over my hand.”
He kisses me again, sliding his hand down the front of my pants. I struggle to position myself better on the chair, and he takes it as an invitation and sinks his fingers into my slippery slit. He moans when he finds me wet, thrusting his tongue into my mouth with slow, aching strokes as he pushes his hand deeper, slowly pushing a finger into me. My core clenches, and I gasp as the pleasure of his touch overwhelms me. I try to breathe, but his smell is everywhere, and the smell of my arousal, and god, I’m hot all over…
“Fuck,” he groans, breaking the kiss and dropping his forehead onto my chest as he scoots lower on the chair. “You feel so good, baby, you’re killing me. Tell me it feels good to you. Tell me you like it. Tell me you want this.”
“I do but—”
He kisses me again, little distracted kisses, and I know he’s not here, that if I turned on the lights, I’d see it’s not Royal at all but that dead-eyed doll version of him.
“Tell me again,” he says. “Say you want it, Harper.”
“Royal,” I say, pushing at his chest. God, he’s so fucking hard, so wide, it’s like pushing against the ceiling. “Can you turn on the light, or… Slow down or… Something. I can’t fucking breathe. You’re drowning me.”
“Drown with me,” he whispers against my lips, stroking my hair gently back from my forehead with his thumb. I can feel him just inches from my lips, like he’s staring into my eyes, but it’s too dark to see one goddamn thing. I wonder who he’s seeing behind those blind eyes. His finger moves inside me, slow and strong, his thumb stroking my clit. His lips press gently to mine, and he rests his weight on his elbow, so he’s not crushing me. But I know he won’t stop now, that he’s somewhere else, where he can’t stop.
“Let go,” he says, his voice this hypnotic, lulling murmur. “Just stop fighting it and open your mouth and let the water in. It’s easy. As easy as breathing air. Sink to the bottom with me. It’s cold at first, but don’t be scared. I’m right here with you, baby. Nothing can hurt you in the dark. Let go and let it in. Let me in.” His finger keeps stroking just the right way, and I know I’m going to have to let go because I can’t help it, despite the distracting words he’s breathing on my mouth, peppering the sentiments with kisses. He presses his hips against me, and I can feel his thick, hard length against my hip as he sinks his finger into me in a slow, maddening rhythm.
“It’s so dark,” he whispers, his lips brushing my ear and sending shivers of pleasure through me. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
He presses his hips against me again, and the sensation of his hard cock against me and his finger inside me and his thumb on my clit pushes me over the edge. His name falls from my lips, and I press my hips up, opening my thighs for him to push as deep as his finger will reach. My walls clench around him, and he moans, slowly massaging my clit while my core pulses around his finger. He waits until every last aftershock throbs through me before sliding his finger out and pulling his hand from my pants.
His head rests so heavy on my shoulder I could almost believe he’d fallen asleep if his hand wasn’t still moving.
“You’re really fucking fucked up, you know that?” I ask.
“Shhh,” he says, putting his finger to my lips. It’s wet with my cum and smells like pussy. He slides it along my lower lip, coating it with wetness. “Taste it.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, suddenly grateful the lights are out, and let him push his finger between my lips. The moment my tongue touches his finger, he comes alive, rolling onto me and pressing his mouth to mine, his tongue battling mine for the wetness coating his finger. A moan escapes him, vibrating into my mouth and down my throat, igniting my core. I’m so fucking turned on and turned around and disgusted and aroused that I don’t even know what’s up or down.
When his hand is clean, he finally pulls it from between our mouths and strokes my hair back, his mouth taking command of mine, his tongue moving against mine in the way I know and crave, the dominating rhythm of his usual, starving kiss. He kisses me so long I’m dizzy, and I’ve forgotten why I ever wanted him off me. All I can feel is his body on mine, and that it’s not close enough. His cock throbs against my abdomen every few minutes, and every time, my clit throbs hard in answer. I think I’m going to cum again just from kissing him.
I reach for his pants, my fingers wrapping around the thick ridge I can feel through them. He groans into my mouth, and heat shimmers through my core. Reaching for his zipper, I slide it down and dip a hand inside. His boxers are damp, and under them, his bare cock is so hard, his skin so soft, I can hardly breathe. Bliss wraps around me as I run my hand down his full length.
He breaks the kiss, his wet lips skimming over my cheek and caressing my neck as he kisses me there, his breathing labored and hot against my skin. I drop my head back, closing my eyes and giving in to every bit of the pleasure that’s drowning me. Using my free hand, I push down the top of my sweats, then drag the thick head of his cock through my wetness from my clit to my opening and back. My core trembles with heat, and I think I’m going to cum again before he’s even inside.
His breathing is so rough he’s almost choking against my neck.
“Put it in,” I whisper against his ear.
Suddenly, his head snaps up, and his fingers spread across my face, feeling roughly over my features like he’s trying to remember who I am. “You’re fucking stupid to be doing what you’re doing right now,” he snaps, and he slides off me, onto the concrete floor in front of the chair.