Petty Rage by Thandiwe Mpofu

Chapter 27

KIM

I don’t think anyone can blame me for the violent shudder that courses through me at those words but when he asks me to turn over, fear grips me by the throat.

“I don’t think I can…”

Noah walks over to me, and then silently reaches for my lace top and slowly starts removing it. Feeling hypnotized by his intense and turbulent stare, I lift my arms and just… let him.

Then he does something I wasn’t expecting at all, he kisses both my shoulders, my neck, then he massages my sensitive breasts, slowly but with an intent to arouse, to soothe, to let me know that he understands my fear but won’t let me give in to it.

Before I know it, I’m melting in his arms, small whimpers and moans escaping my lips. He occasionally kisses any part of me that he can, then gentle but sure hands are on either side of my hips as he helps me turn over.

“You’re beautiful,” he says with a deep timbre to his voice, thickened by lust. “Every inch of you.”

I want to protest because I know what he’s currently looking at… it all brings back to mind the person who also did this to me.

The heaviness comes back to my chest in just a second.

My throat burns with tears but I do my best to try and hold them in, knowing that if I cry, Noah will ask.

If he does ask, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep the big revelation I had today to myself.

“Why do you hate these scars?” Noah asks. I can feel him moving around, but I just face the animated floor—which I think was designed for people who lie on their stomach as they get drawn up with permanent ink.

“What’s there to love?” I whisper hoarsely.

“Your survival,” Noah says simply, not sugarcoating anything for the sake of my ears. “These are little tally marks, showing me how you still managed to get up and fight for your life, your sanity, and for your family. So, what’s not to love, Butterfly?”

Whenever he calls me that term of endearment, a part of my soul seems to melt into a pool of vulnerability and want. A want only he can answer and appease.

“So you got cuts and you bled, but here you are,” he goes on in that tone that liquify my charred bones. “Some people get just the barest of cuts and they’re on the fucking floor, refusing to get up, giving in to a small fucking fight.”

Tears sting my eyes. I wasn’t expecting this to take an emotional turn, especially after the morning we just had.

“Stop,” I whisper brokenly. “You’re making a mess out of me.”

“Good,” he purrs darkly. “I was fucking wondering when you’re going to be fucking real with me.”

“You…” I start, the confession falling from my lips like honey with traces of lemon. “You are my real, Noah.”

“I better be,” he says in my ear. “This is sacred… another something that will be just for you and me.”

And with that, he grabs a small remote and then music starts playing over the speakers. I think it’s ‘I Fall Apart’ by Post Malone but I’m not too sure.

Then my sexy Blue Fairy with his bruised knuckles from beating up his father, goes to work tattooing my back with a design only he knows. I can’t say it doesn’t hurt because it does, but I lie still, feeling Noah’s hot breath washing over my back.

The moment feels raw, all-consuming and a bit surreal. Just this morning, I had snuck into his room and dyed his hair green while he slept—fitfully—and now, we’re confessing or maybe we’re lying to each other. I’m going to hold to the former.

“Why did you beat him like that?” I ask after some time of crackling silence, my voice low.

“He fucking deserved it,” Noah grits out. “No one talks about my mother like that, and frankly, I don’t much care for people who threaten what’s mine and you, Butterfly in all your mess that you’re still going to atone for, you’re fucking mine.”

I could feel the tug in my chest, igniting the flames he started in his car. It feels like a slow gut wrenching that starts at the pit of my stomach heightened by his touch on my back.

Some nerves were desensitized while others were a bit more enhanced in a way that made extremes difficult for me. I showered with lukewarm water, nothing too hot and definitely not too cold so as not to antagonize my scars. But Noah’s touch is different—it’s always been that way—and now I’m slowly starting to lose my damn mind.

“Are you almost done?” I whisper.

“Shh, I need to do this right.”

“Can I use your phone to text Spider about something?”

Wordlessly, Noah passes me his phone and I shoot the text, noticing how the two don’t text. Actually, the only text chat he has on his phone… is with me.

“You don’t text anyone?”

“I don’t have time for it,” he grits out.

My heart goes up in flames, but I don’t say anything.

I leave him to work, wincing occasionally but I can tell he is putting in so much care with his work. At some point though, he passes me a bottle of Jack and tells me to scream if I have to. I don’t understand why until he changes the gun thingy and comes back to a new spot.

We pass the bottle back and forth, the only sounds coming from the tattoo gun and the perfectly hidden speakers in the parlor.

Who would’ve thought that Noah actually loves silence? I mean, I guessed that he liked to be alone at times; but right now, he’s totally present, allowing his demons and mine to linger in the room with us without fighting them, content to just… be.

“I’m done,” Noah announces after God only knows how many hours.

I’m dying to see what it looks like, but instead, he does some after care shit then wraps it up.

“Am I not allowed to see it now?” I demand.

“Not until I get mine.”

“And when will that be?”

“When Emmett finishes playing hide and seek with Ivy.”

I can’t help but laugh at that, feeling slightly intoxicated by this easy vibe we have going on between us.

I turn over onto my back, wanting to see his face fully. I don’t give a damn that I’m literally half naked with a short skirt and killer heels. I just want to see his face… and be nosy.

“I’m drunk,” I whisper like I’m sharing a secret, a lopsided smile on my face.

“I know,” he says with a patient look.

“Why aren’t you drunk?”

“It takes more than just a fucking bottle to get me there.”

“No, I mean why do you drink… so much?”

“Kimberly,” he warns darkly.

“We don’t lie to each other. We don’t keep secrets. Why do you drink so much, Noah?”

He watches me for a while. “Don’t you have a secret you’re keeping from me right now?”

I think of his father and what he did to me ten years ago, but for some reason, I can’t bring myself to hurt him like that. Not when there’s enmity between him and his father already.

Some burdens are just meant to be shouldered by the one who incurred the wrath and pain.

“You know what,” I whisper. “You don’t have to answer that. Let’s go.”

I hop off the table thingy and reach for my shirt.

“Where the fuck are we going?”

“To cause a bit of mischief.”

* * *

It’s around 10p.m. when we stop at a gas station and I run in to buy some accelerant, firecrackers, a Zippo and some more alcohol for the road.

I don’t tell Noah the plan, but as soon as he sees the shit in the bag, the smile on his face makes my heart stop.

“Do we have a target in mind?”

“Yup,” I burp. “I’m just waiting for the address.”

And like he’s a genie, Spider sends through the addy I’ve been waiting for on Noah’s phone. Noah doesn’t say a word, he just drives. Within ten minutes, we’re driving down the affluent neighborhood with one singular mission.

We spot the house at the end of the street. It’s not as big as the mansion where he used to live, but what else would you expect from someone who left all his wealth after the horrible shit he did to his family?

Just as I’m about to get out of the car, Noah grabs my chin, staring into my soul like he always does.

“Tell me why the fuck you want to do this?” he demands.

“Well, because I don’t much care for anyone who threatens what’s mine.” I can’t resist kissing him, so I do.

We’ve been fighting the sexual hunger for hours now, but for now, we have work to do.

I jump out of the car, still wearing my heels because fuck, who said you can’t set shit on fire in the right pair?

Noah grabs some gasoline that I didn’t even know he had and then we sneak onto the premises and head straight to the Tesla in the driveway. It doesn’t take long to douse it in gasoline, and it certainly doesn’t take long for the firecrackers to light up.

And because Noah doesn’t give a shit, he spray paints a huge skull with a dick under it on the front doors of the house, rings the bell then he runs back to where I stand, puts the firecrackers under the car, grabs my hand and we run back to the car, laughing our hearts out.

When the car blows up, we’re in the car driving away, but I catch Noah glancing in the rearview mirror, his jaw clenched. When I look back, I see David standing there, his jaw dropped in shock as his car burns.

By the time Noah drives us home, I’m tired, sore, and not in the mood to be alone.

“Noah.”

“Uh, no one forced you to wear those sexy as fuck heels, just as no one forced you to put a fucking colony of Fire Ants in my damn bed.”

“Uh, you deserved that.”

“For slashing your damn tires?”

“For leaving dead cats on the fucking hood of my car.” The way he pauses makes me sit up straight and take look at him. “What?”

“I didn’t leave any dead cats on the hood of your car.”

It’s like I’ve just been hit over the head with a dumbbell or something. My ears start to ring as pressure builds in my chest.

“Take me to my sisters.”

“What?”

“My sisters... Marie, please, Noah, take me to them,” I rush, my mind racing, If Noah didn’t leave those dead cats, then they know.

They found me. They found us. Those dead cats represent me and my sisters! The bigger cat and the two kittens.

“What?”

“Noah, please. I need to know if they’re safe.”

“Hey, hey, what just happened?”

“Let’s go…”

“Hey, come back to me,” Noah demands harshly and it works, putting the backdrop of chaos on pause for a bit. “Your sisters are safe.”

I don’t have a chance of stopping the tears when they pour out this time.

“The cats… he found us.”

“Who?” he demands, jaw clenched.

“Larry,” I whisper. “He promised that if anything ever happened to him, the same tragedy would befall me and my sisters.”

“What?” he demands.

“Noah, please, I need to see them.”

He looks speechless for just a second and then next he jumps into action. He calls someone. “Update?” he demands. I strain to listen, but I can’t hear anything.

“They are safe,” Noah says when he hangs up.

“How do you know?” I demand, very close to breaking.

“We have people watching.”

“We?”

“The guys and me, we… well, we’re keeping an eye on all of you.”

The phone call with Astraea and Ivy suddenly makes sense. Ivy mentioned that she felt like she was being watched and now this.

“I need to see them.”

“Not tonight, baby,” Noah says softly. “You’re a bit drunk and I don’t think Marie would appreciate you walking into her house smelling like gasoline.” He has a point, I know but I just… “Hey, they’re fine. We’ll go get them in the morning. For now, you’re staying with me, in my fucking bed. Okay?”

It’s the way he holds me in his arms and the sure beat of his heart that calms me down some. “Okay.”

“I got you.”

He carries me into the house, and straight to his wing where his furniture was delivered today—I made sure. He did suffer a bit, sleeping in a room where occasional ants are still crawling.

I’m a mess and I know it but the day—while it has been charming and pretty damn fun—it was too much.

The rise and fall of emotions was just a bit too much.

So when Noah starts to undress me, watching me with a hard gaze that chills me to the bone, I can’t help but do the one thing he told me not to do… ever.

I beg.

“Kimmy…”

“Please,” I whisper hotly, kissing along his neck. “It’s too much, inside me… please.”

I feel like I am on the brink of explosion and not in a good way. The darkness is rising, the voices in my head… the sound of the whip slicing the air… it’s all coming back to me with vivid clarity.

I am trying to downplay it, but I can’t hold it in anymore, my eyes burning with more tears.

“Please… fuck me.”

He stares down at me, his jaw clenched tight, with his fists clenched to his sides.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he says slowly, carefully, as if trying not to show me what I can already see in him. “I’m already wound up so fucking tight.”

“Me too…”

“It’s been a fucking long and trying few weeks… I can’t let loose with you like that.”

But that’s exactly what I want. I want that darkness. I want the rawness, the untamed rage.

“Noah, please.” I can’t stop myself from reaching for his shirt, breathless and on the verge of breaking.

“Be careful with what you fucking wish for, Kimmy,” he says seriously. “I’ve changed.”

“I know.” And I want him still.

“Why, Kimmy?” he demands. “Why ask this of me when you know there’s a good chance someone will end up hurt?”

I know that, but still here I am…

“I want to feel.”

Just like that, Noah moves and suddenly, I’m leaning over the bed, standing in my heels, wet and panting for him.

There’s no warning or anything else. He levers me from behind, my hair fisted in his hand, and he shoves his hard, throbbing cock into me.

The bite of pain mixed with the sweet agony of his intense and powerful possession make me gasp out loud, a low scream lodged in my throat.

I love that his cock is pierced, and I love the new level of pleasure-pain it brings.

“Fuck,” he hisses, then his hand is at my clit, flicking and rubbing in circles, making my hips churn along as more lubrication coats my pussy, easing his burn.

“Yes,” I moan when he starts fucking me with a fast, brutal tempo that leaves me raking the sheets, the rich wood paneling at the back of the bed and anything else I can grab. He wasn’t joking when he warned me about how strung up he is.

I can feel the tornado in him, the barely restrained fury, it’s like he’s on fire. But maybe I underestimated how much I needed this because as he fucks me, I can’t help but let it all go as I meet him thrust for thrust, the ice melting as the lava takes over.

I feel his fingers at my hard nipples as he twists and tugs, then right there where we’re joined and then next thing I know, his fingers are in my mouth.

“Suck.”

Jesus.

I can feel myself grow even more sleek at that one command. I suck his fingers the same way I want to suck his hard cock and he growls his encouragement.

“Yeah, that’s it, Butterfly,” he purrs. “You’re fucking mine.”

Fuck!

I can feel it build in me. Noah keeps fucking me, his magnificent, pierced dick stretching me from behind.

“Move it there,” he demands, slapping my ass with just enough force to make me moan and do as I’m told, grinding back onto him until he lets out a low, pained hiss.

“Fuck!”

The rhythmic slap of his heavy balls on my ass, the way he grips my hair, the way he pulls my head back until my lips are so close, he bites down on them, I can’t hold it in anymore.

“Not yet.”

Oh God.

“Noah…”

“Not yet,” he hisses. “Know your place when you’re in my bed, desperate for me to fuck you this hard, this deep and this fucking fast, just the way you want it when you can’t outrun your vicious mind, know your place.”

He pounds into me harder, deeper, unerringly hitting my sweet spot over and over again.

I can’t help my moans or the thrill that runs through me as he fucks me like a whore but holds me like he’s so fucking in love with me.

It’s dirty, it’s maybe wrong and I think there’s something wrong with me but I want this. I want him.

“Noah…” I moan.

“Wait for it.”

He’s rough, unrelenting, and intense, driving me insane with lust and love that bubbles up in my chest. Suddenly, I forget everything.

The threat on my life.

The fact that even after all this time, my father is still hunting me.

The heartbreak that will soon come after this.

The way I’m head over heels in love with Noah even though I know we’re too toxic for each other.

I forget it all, surrendering instead to this right here, everything he’s giving me, brewing inside me…

He pulls out, flips me over until I’m sprawled on my back, looking up at him, seeing the real Noah Montreal that’s always in hiding.

“Hold on.”

He drives into me, but before I can think this is going to be easy, he wraps my legs around his hips, then I’m in his arms and in a few long strides, my burning and slightly itchy back is against the wall.

We strain, we screw, I grind and clench feeling desperate for him, hungry for him… hungry for release.

“Don’t you fucking look away.”

I wouldn’t dare. Not when he’s all I want to see.

I can feel my sex tightening with an impending crash and this time, he holds my gaze, leans in and groans in my ear… just the way I like it. “Come.”

I go off like the fucking firecracker we lit up earlier.

I don’t stop coming as he keeps on screwing me, fucking me into another orgasm… and then with a guttural groan of his own, he’s coming too. Long and hard. I can feel his cum slipping out of me, and the carnal thought sets me off… again.

I cry out, my pussy clenching down on around his still hard cock, making him hiss. I hold on to him, catching my breath, thinking that this is it but no. Not with Noah.

“I’m not done with you,” he murmurs, licking his lips as he looks at me like I’m a meal he still wants to devour. Without another word, he walks over to the couch I hadn’t noticed at all and sits at the edge, with me straddling him. “Ride me, Butterfly.”

I can feel my body igniting even more than before. He is my focus, the one that I’m aiming to please, the one I want to give my all to.

And he watches me, murmuring about how beautiful I am, how worthy I am, and the fact that he loves the way I clench down on him, the way I rise up and down on him with my tits on full display for him and only him.

Greedily I rack up his words, soaking them into my damaged soul like a junkie who might never get another fix.

At some point as I pump my hips, he pulls me down to him until our foreheads press together, my favorite position.

“You want to come, don’t you? Your pussy gets so fucking hot when you’re right there,” he purrs. “Now quit playing with me and fuck me, Butterfly.”

At some point during the night, I lose count on how many times we go at it or how many times he makes me come.

By the time he stops licking my cleft with his tongue, the sun is already rising. And as a new day breaks, I can’t help but want to know something new about him.

“What makes you feel alive?” I whisper, laying in his arms, tired and exhausted, but his fingers are still circling my clit like he wants to make me come again. Noah is like a machine, his possession and need for me the one thing I’m sure of.

“Being with you,” he groans the words in my ear. “You make me come alive.”

Yeah, he makes me come again.