I can’t see through the blinding rage that overwhelms me. It’s thick and red and clouds my vision in a way I’m not familiar, nor am I comfortable with.
There’s nothing rational about my feelings for Ayvah or my actions when it comes to her health and safety. She steals the carefully put together leader I show the world, and what’s left can only be described as a caveman, a monster even. I want to possess her, every single inch of her, her whole fucking life, I want it all. I want it more than I want my next breath, and that should terrify me. Perhaps it would if I wasn’t so obsessed with her.
I never understood Everett’s need to stalk my sister in the eight years they spent apart. I never argued the point because it would have been pointless, but I never understood how he could possibly feel so protective, so obsessed with her that he would spend so much of his life watching her from afar.
But I get it now.
If that’s the only way I could see Ayvah, the only way I could be around her, I’d be installing cameras and trackers everywhere I possibly could. Because despite the fact it’s not rational, and I hate feeling so completely out of control, what I feel toward the woman beneath me is so strong I couldn’t fight it even if I wanted to.
My hand comes down on her ass again and again. I’m barely conscious of my decision to punish her, barely controlling the monster inside. He wants to devour her, ruin her for all other men, but for now this is enough to satisfy his need.
“Stop,” she sobs. “Please Storm. Please stop.”
The sound of her cries tug at the rational part of my mind, but I can’t stop. It’s like my body is on autopilot and another hard slap lands on her perfect ass. I haven’t pulled down her yoga pants because I’m almost certain I couldn’t stop the beast from sinking into her tight body, but I have no doubt her punishment still hurts.
“It hurts,” she cries.
“It’s supposed to,” I force through gritted teeth.
The door handle behind me rattles and I thank my own foresight for locking it behind me. I don’t want to share Ayvah right now. I need her all to myself. I need to feed the beast.
“Storm!” Emerson shouts from the other side of the door.
I ignore her, barely able to register my sister-in-law’s presence as I land another heavy smack on Ayvah’s plump ass. Fuck, it’s a work of art. I wish I could see the red handprints I’m leaving behind, I wish I could see my marks on her.
“Help,” she cries. “Help me.”
There’s commotion in the hallway and then a moment later the door swings open, slamming into the wall so hard the sound startles me out of my daze.
Arms wrap around me, pinning my own to my side and quickly tearing me away from Ayvah. I struggle, desperate to touch her, to be close to her, but I can’t break free. “What the fuck has got into you?” Rayne barks. “Did you give her a fucking safe word? She was begging you to stop!” I’ve never heard my brother sound like this. I’ve seen him angry, furious in fact, but the way he’s speaking to me is foreign.
Emerson helps Ayvah stand and the moment I catch sight of her face I know I’ve fucked up. Not just fucked up. I’ve destroyed any bit of trust she had in me, and I’m not sure how to get it back.
Tears stain her cheeks and angry red splotches adorn her pale skin, but it’s the fear in her eyes that brings me to my fucking knees and not even Rayne can hold me on my feet. I hit the ground in a heavy thud and pain radiates through my legs, but I barely flinch. I deserve it.
Words catch in my throat, but I can’t force them out. There isn’t an apology on earth that can make up for what I’ve just done to her.
Emerson glares at me, the fire in her eyes usually reserved for people outside of our family, but the way she’s looking at me makes my stomach roll painfully. She wraps her arm around Ayvah’s shoulder and guides her toward the door, the movement causing her to flinch in pain.
What have I done?
I lunge out of Rayne’s hold, but he catches me before I can reach her. He thinks I’m a threat to her, and hell, after what I just did, he’s not far from the truth, but the reality is that having her away from me, even just in another room makes it hard to breathe.
“Let her go,” Rayne says more softly than before. Perhaps he can tell how guilty I feel, or maybe he’s just not used to seeing his little brother look so weak. But the truth is, that’s exactly what Ayvah makes me. Weak. And if there’s anything a man like me can’t afford to be, it’s that.
The door clicks shut behind them as they leave, and hopelessness hits me like a ton of bricks. How is she ever going to forgive me for this?
A thought occurs to me and I shove at my brother. He’s caught off guard and stumbles back as I get to my feet. She’s going to try to leave and Emerson is going to help her. I can’t let her leave.
“Storm, you need to get it together, brother. I’ve never seen you like this.”
“She can’t leave.” I charge toward the door but he blocks my path.
“What are you talking about? Emerson is just taking her back to the room you had us set up last night.” He takes a step back, and then another, until his back is pressed to the door, barricading me in.
He’s probably worried I’m going to hurt Ayvah again, or yell at Emerson for taking her away from me, but when I sink to the edge of the bed and rest my head in my hands, I swear he breathes out a sigh of relief.
Silence stretches on between us. I have nothing to say, no excuses for what I’ve just done, but I’m sure he has questions, more than likely ones I don’t have the answers to.
“What the fuck was that, Storm?” he finally asks.
“I… don’t know.”
He breathes out a frustrated sigh. “You never punish when you’re angry, Storm. It’s the number one rule of being a Dom. What the fuck were you thinking?”
I look up at him and snarl. “What the fuck was I thinking? I was thinking that I almost lost her today because she was so fucking stupid, and so fucking careless that she walked out in front of ten men holding guns. I was thinking that although none of this makes any sense, I almost fucking lost my reason for breathing.”
Rayne stares at me for long moments. So long in fact I wonder if he’s going to respond at all or just stand by the door and stare at me. “You fell quick.” It’s not a question because it’s pretty fucking obvious that’s the case. I fell the moment I saw her, just like my mother told me I would. Ayvah is every bit the woman she predicted for me, and I don’t know whether I should find that comforting or concerning. He lets out a breath and rests his back on the door. “You terrified her man. Really fucking scared her.”
“I know.”
“She’s going to struggle to forgive you for this. If you’re going to dabble with BDSM, I suggest you read up on it before doing so. And if you ever punish her when you’re angry again, I’ll beat you within an inch of your life. I don’t care that you’re the boss, or that you’re my brother. You scared that poor girl who has lost everything in a matter of a day, who has a fucking trafficking ring coming after her, and I will not stand for you doing it again.”
Without another word, and without waiting for a response, Rayne turns around and disappears out the door, leaving me to wallow in my own self-hatred.
There’s nothing he can do to me that would be a bigger punishment than what I’m feeling right now. The crippling self-loathing is almost enough to drag me back to my knees. But there’s nothing I won’t do for Ayvah, and nothing I won’t do to make her trust me again.
