“I know how to do a lot of things, Gemma, which probably makes me that much more unworthy of this moment right here.”
He wasn’t unworthy. He had no idea what unworthy was. He had no idea the vile things that had been whispered into my ear as my knees hit the cold, damp floor of a dirty basement tucked ever so nicely underneath a pristine house with my wrists in heavy chains. If I thought hard enough, I could still feel Richard’s length pressed against my back as I cried from hunger. The desperation in my shaky voice as I apologized for something so completely innocent, like holding my brother’s hand. I could sense the way he got off on punishing me. The man I’d never thought of as a fatherly figure loved to watch me beg for his help. He loved having me at his mercy, and when I turned eighteen and was back in his grasp, I was sickened with the thought that I’d be at his mercy, and he’d get on with his sick dreams of having me the way he had my mother.
Fury, fear, and rebellion wrapped around my body like a vise grip as Isaiah’s lips hovered over mine. “Teach me,” I pleaded. The words were jutted out like a sword thrusting forward into its opponent. My mouth brushed against his, and he let out a noise that made my stomach dip. “Teach me what feels good, Isaiah.”
“We’re going down a rocky path,” he answered, pulling back just a second before his lips touched mine again. Sparks flew, and I felt my hips jerk toward him all on their own.
He pulled back and shot me a dark look. “Do that again and I’ll end up destroying you.” His free hand landed on my hips as some sort of warning. His fingers dug into my skin, branding me as excitement flared within. “I’ll make you feel good, Gemma. But trust me when I say you are not ready for what your little hips are trying to do.”
He was likely right, but he had no idea how desperate I was to rebel. My body and mind were in sync for what seemed like the first time in my life, and I was rioting on the inside. I wanted to live and breathe in the freedom that I had in this very second. I didn’t want to think about the future, or the looming threats, or even finding Tobias. I just wanted to…feel. I wanted to feel like I did when Isaiah kissed me. I wanted that high. I was hungry for it. Things were coiled tightly in my lower stomach, and I wanted them to unravel. I wanted Isaiah to pull the string that was keeping me bundled so tightly.
Before I could plead with him, his palms went underneath my skirt, and he touched the curve of my butt just below the lining of my panties. His fingers gripped the soft skin as he hauled me up against the wall and kissed me feverishly. His wet tongue ravished
mine, and I was pushing up against him, and he was pushing right back against me. There were no second thoughts between us. When one of us moved, the other did the same. We were like magnets, unable to pull apart, completely captured by one another like we were ensnared in a trap of hungry kisses and hot touches.
“Do you feel that?” he asked as he hauled himself back for a fleeting moment. My pulse had quickened, and my legs prickled. “Do you feel that burning need inside of you, Gemma?”
My answer came out as a rushed breath. “Yes.”
His chest rose as his fingers dug into my skin once more. His jaw ticked, and his voice was as raw as I felt on the inside. “That’s how you should feel every time someone kisses you. If you don’t feel this way down the road, when you grace some guy with what you’re giving to me... You fucking leave and go find someone who elicits this feeling inside of you.”
Wow.
At some point during our kiss, Isaiah had let my wrists fall free, and my fingers found their way to the back of his head and intertwined with his thick hair. “Is this how you’re supposed to feel?” I asked, fighting the urge to look away as my inexperience and vulnerability came crashing down. “Is this how you feel when you kiss other girls?”
Did it always feel like this? If so, I now understood why everyone got so excited about Claiming Night.
Isaiah’s wet lips glistened under the dim light. “No.”
The answer shocked me. “No?”
He shook his head slowly as his sharp gaze landed on my lips. A swallow worked itself down his throat, and his next words were nothing more than a whisper. “And you’ve ruined all future girls for me now.” He paused as we locked eyes. “Shit.” Then, his mouth was on mine again, and the room was spinning, and all my thoughts vanished. Everything was gone except for Isaiah and the feeling of something so enticing licking over my core.
A soft noise came out of my mouth as Isaiah continued kissing me, moving away from my mouth so we could catch our breath every so often and nipping my ear and my neck, and it was honestly too much to handle, until there was a sharp knock on the door. Both of our heads snapped to attention, and panic cut through me so deep I half expected to be bleeding.
“Isaiah,” came a bark through the thick slab of wood. I was pretty sure it was Cade, but I couldn’t be certain. My thoughts were so fuzzy that if Isaiah didn’t also look at the door, I wouldn’t have even trusted that the knock had happened. For all I knew, it could have been my heart thudding to the ground. “Did I finally get your fucking attention?”
Isaiah’s tone was as sharp as a whip. “Cade. What do you want?”
Isaiah glanced back down to me, staring directly at my lips like he wanted to kiss me more. “We have a slight problem. He’s on the move.”
A curse left Isaiah, and his face looked pained as he glanced at my mouth once more. Hope crashed and burned around me, and I felt the disappointment come between us. The second Isaiah let my legs down, cool air brushed over me, and I felt…damp.
“Fucking hell.” A groan left Isaiah as he righted my skirt on my hips and then ran a hand through his hair rather aggressively. “You’re…”
My attention flew to him. “I’m what?”
I stood on shaky legs and felt…different. Branded? Less pure? Tainted?
No. I wasn’t tainted. I wasn’t. Even if Isaiah and I had done more than kiss, I wasn’t tainted.
Richard would definitely think that if he ever found out. His words were an echo in my head that seemed to climb out of the darkest areas of my mind. You are to remain untouched. You belong to me. You are mine.
But I wasn’t his. I wouldn’t be. Determination ran through my blood like I was born with the primal notion. The submissive little angel Richard had created was slowly self-destructing, and it gave me the tiniest bit of leverage.
There was a time in my life where I had believed everything that came out of his mouth. I obeyed his rules and thought true to his threats. He told me that if I didn’t allow him to punish me, to take care of me, that I’d end up just like my mother. Dead.
But it wasn’t true.