Fallen Rose by Amelia Wilde

Chapter Six

Haley

Leo drops Perry, who falls to the floor with a grunt and a soft fuck. Keaton, a hand pressed to his cheek, goes to his brother as Leo puts his arms around me. He lifts me into a carry and I focus on breathing. I could cry forever, but I won’t. I have the sense that if I break down, it will be like when Leo was sick. He’ll lose his mind. He won’t know what’s wrong.

There are lives at stake.

His brother is here. Lucian. The two of them look incongruous, standing in Caroline’s house, but we don’t wait for long. “This way,” Lucian says again. I expected him to be cruel, to be…a Morelli. And he is. There’s a set to his face that makes me think he might go back for Perry and Keaton if they say the wrong thing.

“Haley,” says Perry. He looks like shit. Leo was going to kill him. There was murder in his eyes. It’s there now, just beneath the surface. A translucent layer of civility is over the beast now.

“I’m okay,” I tell him over Leo’s shoulder. “Really. Just—”

Just don’t do anything. Don’t keep me here. The urge to beg him is strong, here in Caroline’s house, but then Leo is moving with long, purposeful strides. Perry and Keaton don’t follow. Perry sits down hard on the floor as we go, and Keaton kneels next to him, and I think the only reason they’re not following is because Leo is such a menace.

Lucian is dragging a fourth person with us, all the way to the door, by the collar of his shirt. Leo’s brother does this with such a casual stance that I have to think he’s done it before. When we reach the door, he shoves the man into a corner and kicks him. Something cracks in the man’s chest and he cries out. Lucian grins. I think Bishop’s Landing has been wrong about Leo. They got the wrong brother. Lucian is the real killer. The real sociopath.

But—no. He’s here, after all, to get me. To help Leo. I don’t understand it and I can’t find my voice to ask. I don’t dare speak all the way out.

Leo bundles me close as we step out into the night. I’m in a nightgown, no shoes, no socks, and the wind cuts through the fabric. “It’s not far,” Leo says. His voice is different. A razor’s edge. Sharper than I’ve ever heard before. Lucian walks by his side as we go down the block, away from Caroline’s house. A click makes me lift my head from Leo’s shoulder. Lucian’s got a gun out, and he’s taken the safety off.

Lucian meets my eyes. No trace of discomfort there, only an intense curiosity. “Did they hurt you?”

I shake my head. It’s close to the truth.

“No more questions, Lucian,” Leo says, and we’re at his SUV. He opens the door, puts me into the passenger seat, and takes off his coat. He wraps it around me with efficient movements, his hands steady, and pulls the buckle over me. Clicks it into place.

His expression—

I don’t recognize it. I’ve never seen it before.

“I’m following,” Lucian says from over Leo’s shoulder.

“Fine.”

“I’m meeting with your security.”

“Fine.” Leo closes my door, and then he’s in the car, and then we’re driving away. A pair of headlights follows after us.

It’s not the first time he’s driven me like this. A different route back to his house. Same heat turned up high in the car. Same full-body trembles that set in only after we’ve pulled away from the curb. Leo is silent in his dark clothes, his eyes on the road, his hands on the wheel.

I reach for him at the same instant he reaches for me. His grip on my hand is so tight it hurts, but I never want him to let go. He doesn’t. He holds my hand all the way back to his castle of a house. All the way through the gate, and down the driveway. He only releases me for long enough to come around to my side and take me in his arms again. Up the steps. Into the foyer.

I’m expecting silence and space.

A crowd greets us instead. Men in dark suits are all over the foyer. Gerard. Eva, who gasps, and starts to come forward. Her face changes when she sees Leo’s expression. “Come and sit with us,” she says quickly. “Come and sit with us, and—”

“No,” barks Leo. He goes for the stairs without looking at her.

“Let’s have a meeting,” Lucian says, his voice rising above all the chatter, and the front door slams shut, and none of it matters because Leo is taking me to his bedroom. My skin tingles with relief, and with delayed fear, and with everything I felt at Caroline’s. With the shame of crying in front of Rick. With the disgust of being touched by him. But it’s over. It’s over.

What’s not over is Leo.

He kicks the door shut the moment we’re past the threshold. Puts me on my feet. Pushes me back so I’m pinned against cool wood, slipping the coat off my shoulders as he does. His hands are so large on the sides of my face. They slip down to my neck. He’s warm, and he’s here.

Leo’s grip tightens. He takes my air away. Makes it hard to breathe for long enough that my heart kicks up into a sprint. Even now, even when I can’t breathe, he smells so good I could die. Like a clean winter forest. Like a dark night.

And then.

He leans down and bites me. His teeth sink into the place where my neck curves into my shoulder, the heat of his breath tracing the marks. I’m on fire, lit up with him, every nerve responding to the pain. He’s never bitten me this hard before, never while he’s choking me like this, and I suck in a gasp.

Leo shoves himself away from me. My spine knocks against hardwood as he backs away with a growl. “Get out of here,” he says. “Go to the guest room.”

“What?” I put my hand where he touched me, press in like I can recreate the sensation. “No. I don’t want to leave.”

Leo looks me in the eye, and my heart thuds. Cracks. “I’ll be too rough with you. I’ll tear you apart.”

A heartbeat of fear. Another one of recognition. The gold in his eyes blazes with fury he’s not bothering to suppress.

Or that he can’t suppress.

The truth arrives like a bullet.

I’ve only ever had sex with Leo Morelli. The man standing in front of me now is the Beast of Bishop’s Landing.

This is the person Leo became to survive his father. This is the person he became to protect his siblings, and his secrets. I thought it was all an act. I thought he was only pretending to be angry. That it was skin-deep. A performance. And sometimes it is. Sometimes he allows people to think he is angry when he is really in pain. He allows people to think he’s ruthless and bloodthirsty when he is considered and calculated.

But now?

Now it’s real.

I’ll tear you apartsounded so raw, so violent, that I know it’s real. And it’s too late to stop it. Too late to hide it.

He’s trying anyway, though his anger is all in the open, it’s crackling in the air around us. It’s making the hairs on the backs of my arms stand up.

“Go,” he orders.

“No.” I separate myself from the door and take three steps toward him. Close enough for him to reach me. My body quakes with how lethal he is but I’ll never run from him. Never. Never. Never. “I want all of you. Even the beast.”

I look at him then. Really look. And I see everything. The agonized set of his shoulders. The way he stands up so tall as a way to keep himself in check. His hands shoved into his pockets to keep them off me.

The need in his eyes. A deep, animal need. He’s practically vibrating with it. Leo’s jaw works. “I promise, darling. I won’t be gentle.”

Leo’s voice swears off softness. It’s as clear a warning as I’ve ever heard. This is my only chance to back out of this. To run to the guest room and lock the door. He’ll let me do it.

I lift one hand and pull down the neck of my nightgown to bare my throat to him.

I show him the marks he’s already made.

“All of you,” I tell him. “Please.”

One second he’s standing there, and the next he’s all furious motion. It’s like the night he came after me. Watching him run into that alley was the most magnificent thing I’ve ever seen. He is equally stunning now. A graceful violence. His hands are all over me. Squeezing. Pinching. Bruising. He bites me again, layering more marks on top of the fresh one, and I cry out at how sharp the pain is. How little he’s holding back.

Leo tears my nightgown off. Shreds the fabric. Splits it down the middle.

He tears through the panties I’m wearing underneath.

When I’m naked, when there’s nothing left between us, he takes my face in his hands and kisses me in the ruins of my clothes. He kisses me so hard I taste blood. There is nothing gentle in his tongue, or his teeth, and I owe him everything, he is everything, because if he was soft with me now, I would be sick.

It’s not cruelty, the way he hurts me now. We are beyond things like cruelty and kindness. This is claiming.

He takes his mouth off mine, fists his fingers in my hair, and drags me to the fireplace. Leo sweeps up the remains of my clothes as he goes. The fire springs to life when he hits a switch and he throws the clothes into it. The white turns to black curls in the flame as he forces me to my knees in front of the heat. One pull of his zipper and his cock is freed, thick and hard, and Leo doesn’t hesitate. Not at all. He pushes the crown past my lips and I can’t do anything but take it.

“Get it wet,” he says. “You have ten seconds, darling.”

What Leo means is that I have to survive the next ten seconds. I can’t lick him, can’t swirl my tongue around him, because he’s shoving all the way to the back of my throat and down. Tears roll down my cheeks. It feels good to have them drawn out of me. It feels good to lose myself to this moment. My body tries to resist him but I don’t want to resist, I want to take him, I want to. I need to. I’m hot between my legs. Wet for him already. I try to tell him but he’s filled my throat so completely that all that comes out is a needy hum.

“Fuck,” Leo says. He pulls out and strips off his clothes.

His hand goes to the back of my neck. Leo doesn’t guide my head to the carpet. He shoves it there and pins me in place, one big hand in my hair. The other snaps my thighs apart and three fingers impale the soft part of me. Testing. He’s testing me to see if I’m wet enough, and that’s all, that’s all. He fucks his fingers in and out, in and out, and then he pulls them away and wipes them on the small of my back.

Leo lines himself up and thrusts in so hard my face scrapes against the carpet. A vicious push. I’m not used to him, but he doesn’t give me time to adjust. I scream at the stretch, at the pain, but he ignores me. Another thrust interrupts my breathing. Makes my heart skip a beat. My pussy clenches around him and I want him to stay, stay, stay, but he pulls out again so he can fuck me harder.

He’s so strong above me. So unforgiving. His hand in my hair hurts, it hurts so badly, and it’s a homecoming. He hurts me because I like it. Because I can take it. Tears slip down my cheeks. He takes his hand from my hair to swipe some of my tears from my skin. There’s a pop as he sucks them off his fingertips, and then he laughs.

It’s a dark, evil laugh, brimming with all the fury and violence he’s been holding in, and it makes me tighten around him again. He groans. “I fucking love it when you cry, darling. I love it. I love it. I love you.”

Leo finds his rhythm now. Harsh. Unrelenting. He fucks me like he can bind us together through this act alone. Like he’s trying to mate with me for life. Like a wolf. Like a beast.

“You’re wet.” Even his voice is rough. “That’s the sound of your cunt getting wetter for me while I fuck you to tears. So fucking loud. You love being fucked like this. Tell me how much you love it, darling.”

I can barely move, he has me pinned so tight to the carpet. “I need it,” I pant, and then I’m sobbing for real. “I need it.” Terror washes over me. I’m not afraid of Leo. I’m afraid that this won’t erase what happened. That the way Rick touched me won’t ever go away. “Please,” I beg, and I don’t have the words to explain what I need.

Except.

Leo doesn’t need an explanation. Five more strokes and then he turns me over, onto my back, and forces my thighs apart again. He fills me with another cruel thrust as his hand comes up around my neck. He angles my head up so my neck is exposed and pins my wrists to the carpet with his forearm. He kisses me brutally anywhere he can reach, his arm a steel cage across my wrists, and I sob and sob.

“It’s over,” he says into my ear, and his voice is half Leo, half beast, and it makes me cry harder. “I’m the only one who’s ever touched you. I’m the only one who will ever fuck this pussy. It belongs to me. You belong to me, darling. Every last inch.”

He punctuates every last inch with three thrusts that stretch me beyond what I thought I could take.

“Now come on my cock.”

My orgasm tumbles free at the words. I’m spread wide, too wide, my thighs aching with staying apart for him. Trembling. It shakes me from head to toe, shakes me into the carpet. Shakes me into the center of the earth. Rips apart like an atom bomb. Washes everything clean. Leo pushes in deep deep deep and somehow, somehow, he gets bigger. I have a flash of fear—he won’t be able to get back out, he’s too big, he’ll stay inside me forever—and then he makes a sound deep in his throat and shudders.

Leo squeezes harder as he spills himself into me. The world narrows to his hand around my neck and the hot rush of him inside me. Painting with cum. Deeper than he’s ever gone before. He has absolute control over my breath, over my body, and he uses it while he comes. My vision dims. “Mine,” I think he says. “Mine. Fuck.”

Both of us are slick with sweat.

When he’s finished, I come back to the sounds in the room. The crackle of the fire. Someone is crying. It’s me.

Leo kisses my temple. Kisses the bruise. Kisses the bite marks he made.

“Are you—” I want to ask if he’s himself, but that wouldn’t be a fair question. He’s himself when he’s angry and hurting, too. When he’s the beast.

“No,” he answers, and the honesty in his voice hurts. “I’m not. But I will be.”

Leo eases out of me and takes me in his arms. Takes me to his bed. He lies on his side and pulls me close. I put a hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat. He’s not out of breath, but it’s pounding. He strokes my hair, putting it back into place, for a long time. Then he moves his hand to my arm. Back and forth. Back and forth. Down to my forearm. He repeats this process on my fingers, and it’s only then that I feel how tense I am. How ready to fight.

“Tell me what happened.”

“Nothing happened.” The lie crushes in like a jagged stone. “It was nothing to complain about.”

His hand stills, and then he slips it beneath my arm and runs his palm over my waist. “I know Rick saw you.”

The convulsion that moves through me is so strong it makes my stomach clench. There’s no hiding it from Leo. He sits up in the bed, his body away from the pillows, and pulls me up with him. Curls me into his lap, into his arms. Like he knows I don’t want to look at him while I say this. “It was Caroline. At first, it was Caroline. She kept touching me. I—” An embarrassed cry works its way out of me. “Leo, I can’t. This is nothing—”

“If you say it’s nothing compared to what happened to me, I swear to Christ, darling, I’ll punish that idea out of you.” His tone is matter-of-fact but there’s an undercurrent of blistering rage.

I believe him. I believe he’ll do it. So I steady myself to keep going.

“She kept touching me. And she kept saying things that sounded true. Things that were—that were close to the truth.”

“Like what?” He’s rubbing slow circles on my back like he can stop my heart and lungs from freaking out, even if he can’t stop the tremble in my voice. It’s working.

“She said I was afraid of you. That I was so afraid of you.”

“You were afraid of me. You were right to be.”

Hot tears leak out from under my lashes. “I like to be afraid of you.”

“I know. Your body tells me so.” He leans down and kisses the tears away. Leo’s whole body is alive with fury. I can feel it running under his skin like electricity. The sex didn’t make it go away. “Where did she touch you?”

“My hair.” Leo brushes it away from my face, deliberate. Forceful. Not like Caroline did. In the way that only Leo would.

“Where else?”

“My face.”

He takes my face in a tight grip and brings it to his. Delivers a hard kiss. Harder. To the point of pain. To the point I gasp.

It erases Caroline’s fingerprints.

“Where else?”

“She held my hand.”

He threads his fingers through mine and lifts them to his lips. Then Leo presses his teeth into every one of my knuckles.

“Where else?”

“Nowhere else.”

“Where did Rick touch you?”

“He kissed me,” I admit, and it feels urgent now, it feels awful. It feels like a confession. My voice breaks. Crumbles. “I hated it. He made me sit on the couch with him. He leaned over me—”

Leo tenses, his arms pulling me in closer. Locking me in. I’m safe here. “Did he—” He’s not the kind of man who hesitates, but he does it now. The heartbeat of silence is an open wound, papered over with pain and violence. “Did he rape you?”

“He tried. And the worst part—the worst part was how gentle they were. I know it doesn’t make any sense. It shouldn’t have been so bad, since they didn’t actually hurt me. They were soft about it.” My stomach recoils from the memory.

He feels my involuntary, disgusted shudder and crushes me to his chest, squeezing so hard I can’t breathe. And I don’t want to. Because on the next inhale—

All the horror and fear of that moment comes back in a series of choking sobs that threaten to drown me. Leo turns me, arranges me, so that my head falls onto his shoulder, and my arms can go around his neck, and he can hold me there while I wring myself out. His hands splay out on my back, warm and solid. “I should have killed him when his neck was in my hands.”

I swallow my next sob so I can hear, so I can think. “What?”

“He’s a dead man.”

I bury my face in Leo’s neck. “Please, don’t. Don’t, Leo. Please. Just don’t go anywhere tonight.” I’m a mess. Falling apart.

Leo holds me tighter. To him, I’m not fragile, even now. He shushes me with his hand on the back of my neck, with his arms cradling me. “Not tonight,” he promises. “Not tonight.”

But there’s tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. How are we ever supposed to have peace?