Wrecked by A.J. Wolf

 

There was a note left on my breakfast tray when I woke up this morning to meet Rafe in the library around noon. I practically scarfed my food down after reading it and started getting ready. I put on one of my favorite baby pink spaghetti strap dresses that I’d packed and left my hair down just like Rafe said he liked. Slipping into my worn white Converse sneakers, I’d walked out the door and then promptly gotten lost. Thanks to one of the staff members I’d found in the hallway I was able to find the library finally.

Standing in the doorway, I freeze at the sight of Rafe. My heart thumps at the sight of him, my lips tingle with the memory of his kiss.

Noticing me in the doorway, he smiles. "Come here."

Like the obedient pup I am, I obey him without question, the door shutting behind me as I move from the doorway to where he's sitting across the library. My eyes scan the room as I walk, looking over the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that line the walls. There are big windows on the right side of the room with views of the ocean, one of them cracked open just enough to let a warm sea breeze in. Unlike the rest of the house that I’ve seen so far, this room seems unmodernized, as if they left it as it had originally been designed. Warm woods and burgundy decorate the color scheme, matching the old feel of the worn book spines. Most look old and weathered like they’ve been opened and read a hundred times or more. I wonder if Rafe has read them.

Eyes moving back to the only armchair in the room I see that Rafe has a glass of amber-colored liquor in one hand, the other one resting on his thigh. Staring at his fingers, I can feel my skin heating with the memories of them on me the night before. He made me feel wanted, needed, sexy. When I'm standing before him, he motions for me to sit while taking a drink from his glass, a brow raising when I hesitate. There's only one chair, where am I supposed to sit? With him? Ignoring the tingles that light up my belly at the thought I move as if I might sit on his lap but he stops me, grabbing onto my arm.

"No, Ember. On the floor." His voice is like melted butter, warm and sweet running over me, a small smile almost hidden behind his glass as he laughs at me. "Kneel."

You idiot, why would you think he wanted you to sit on him?

He spreads his knees before me, tapping those long fingers of his on the inside of his thigh when I take too long. Swallowing past my embarrassment, I slowly drop to my knees between his thighs, my eyes cast down at my hands to try and hide my face from him. I don't want him to see how silly I feel.

He doesn't let me hide though, his voice demanding my gaze. "Ember." Despite feeling nauseous with my emotional whiplash, I smile up at him, my heart booming when he reaches down to push my hair behind my ear. "I've been thinking and I've decided it's time to settle your debts."

I blink in confusion, my smile fading as I look up at him. "My—My debts?"

His fingers brush along my cheek, sweet touches that only confuse me more. "Don't play dumb, Ember, it's not a good look on you." I almost flinch at his words, turning my face away from his touch. I'm not playing anything, I have no idea what he's talking about. He laughs at me, digging my humiliation in further. "Did you really not know? Who did you think was paying for all of your things, Ember? Are you really that dense?"

I bristle, my hands fisting in my lap. I'm not stupid. "I knew it was you, Rafe. I'm not an idiot. I guess I just didn't expect you to want me to pay you back. I thought—" I thought you did it because you liked me, because you genuinely wanted to help me. "—you were just being kind." He snorts and anger spits from my mouth before I can stop it. "It's not like you're struggling for money. That was all pocket change for you."

Rafe leans back in his seat, a brow raised at my frowning expression. He smirks but it holds no humor. "So because I'm rich I should just give you my money for free? Gift it? Is that it?"

I let out a loud breath, shaking my head. "No, no that's not what I meant. I just—" I pause, licking my lips watching him take a drink from his glass. "It might take some time, but I'll pay you back. All of it."

Rafe laughs, sputtering around his cup and I blink past the droplets of spit and whiskey that spray over my cheeks with the loud guffaw. "Pay me back? You?"

He sits forward in his chair, one of his knees bumping against my right arm as he reaches to set his glass onto the side table. I swallow past the lump burning a hole in my throat, pinching my fingers together in my lap to resist the urge to wipe off the spittle that is now dripping over my lips and off my chin. I don’t even acknowledge it, keeping a brave face to hide the panic beating a rhythm behind my ribs.

"If you had money, we wouldn't be here, would we?" His long fingers tickle over my damp cheek as he asks the question, his voice low and soft with pity. "I have more money than I could spend in a hundred lifetimes, Ember. Even if you could somehow pay me back with money, I wouldn't accept it." The flat of his palm pushes over my cheek, across my lips, and over the other cheek hard enough to make my teeth bite into the back of my lips as he wipes the wetness away. "I don't want money, my sweet Ember." He lifts my chin with his fingers, angling my neck back until it throbs. Bending over me, his breath brushes over my lips. “I only want you.”

My gut twists at his admission, my heart banging in my throat.

It was a mistake coming here.

It was a mistake thinking Rafe was anything other than a monster in a man suit.

Yet even as I sit here, kneeled before him, a small sick part of me still wants to please him, to show him gratitude for all he has done for me over the past weeks. He fed me when I would have gone hungry, paid my power, gas, and rent, showed me kindness, and never made me feel lesser about my situation.

Or at least, he didn't up until this moment.

Even now though, I'm not nearly as scared as I probably should be. I'm stuck in this house in the middle of nowhere with no one to call and nowhere to go. I can’t call my mother, she has no money to get me home. I can’t call the diner, no one there could help me. Even if I somehow got out, what would I do? Hitchhike the miles it would take to get to the nearest city? Then what? I don't have any money to leave here.

I'm stuck.

But really how bad could it possibly be? I don't know what he wants from me but it can't possibly be that bad. Something tells me that even though he wants me to believe he's cruel and heartless, he's not.

I won't believe it.

Ican’t for my own sake.

"How do you plan to wreck me then?" His breath is still heating the seam of my lips and I find myself liking his touch far more than I should be under the circumstances. I want him to kiss me like he did the night before. I want him to touch me like he can't get enough of me. I want him to make me feel like I'm important—like I'm special to him. I want to feel like I'm his. "Will you make me your slave? Force me to scrub your floors and your toilets?" I'm smiling despite the situation, false amusement hiding the ache in my gut and the fear of the unknown leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

His thumb swipes along the underside of my jaw, my neck still straining as he forces me to look up at him. "You don't think I have people for that? No, Ember, you won't be on your hands and knees cleaning." His tongue snakes out, licking along the part in my lips, and like the fool I am I close my eyes, savoring the feel of him. One of the hands in my lap rises to grip onto his forearm, hanging on to him with a desperation that churns in my gut like sour milk. I shouldn’t feel this way. "You'll be pleasuring me in any way I want it, whenever I want it. You're going to repay your debt with your body and soul. From this moment on, you are not Ember Salvatore, you're Rafe Cammargo's property. You are nothing but an object, a thing made to please me. You, my sweet girl, are mine in all ways."

My heart drops at his words, the last shred of hope I had for him shriveling in the pit of my stomach. I almost thought he could like me, that maybe he wanted me in the same way I wanted him. You're a fool, how could you think someone like him could ever love someone like you? My eyes are still closed, my chin lightly trembling under his fingers. I know he can feel the tears I'm holding back and it washes my gut with embarrassment. Why are you crying? You got what you wanted, didn't you? To feel like his.

That's not true though, this isn't what I wanted, not exactly. I've left one prison cell for another one. It's bigger and prettier, but still a cell. "And when my debts are paid, I get to leave?"

His lips curl at my whimpered question, titled at the edges to reveal the wolf underneath the man. His palms catch the quiet tears that streak down my cheeks, his lips pressing to mine in an achingly soft kiss that has my heart screaming for more when he pulls back far enough to speak, "You'll leave when the embers turn black and only ash remains."