Destiny Forgiven Read online

  She struggled, but could barely move. Maddox watched in amusement and waited for her to tire herself out. The man had every intention of making her beg for her own ravishment. He may have been her friend and lover once, but he was still the enemy.

  The brush dangled between his fingers and thumb, the soft bristles hovering above her throat. She steeled herself against its touch, but when he finally allowed it to make contact, she jolted. Ever so softly, he dragged the brush over her skin, from her throat to her belly button, then back up to her breasts. He circled them one at a time, and her nipples tightened even though he stopped before he reached them. The brush ran up along her sides, making her jerk and twitch while she tried to ignore how much it tickled.

  Maddox leaned over her and she watched his handsome face – his emotion was plain there now. Lust.

  His voice was rough as he held the brush just above her nipple, not touching. “This is going to get less pleasant for you as time goes on. Why don’t you start singing the things I need to know, little bird?”

  Mesmerized, Felicity arched up into the featherlight touch. Tendrils of pleasure curled around to her spine and down to her sex. Her nipples hardened and she gasped.

  Maddox jerked his hand back and swatted her thigh. “Bad girl. You get your orgasm when I say so and only then.”

  She gritted her teeth. “You want me to start talking? Fine. Remember the first time we were together, Maddi? We’d been friends so long that it felt surreal when it finally happened. It was so awkward and neither of us lasted longer than about two minutes. Remember I was lying on my shoe and I didn’t even notice until afterward?”

  He knelt above her like he’d frozen in place. Then he made a sound of annoyance. “That’s not what you need to be talking about. Tell me who’s supplying your little rebel team with weapons.”

  “I’ll never forget what you said after.” Tears pricked her eyes. “You said, ‘I’m finally whole.’” She blinked back the tears and chuckled. “I don’t think you knew what you were saying at the time. What teenage boy talks like that, right?” Looking into his distant eyes, sadness crept back in. “Though…you’ve always been different from other guys. You’ve always been…more.”

  “Fine.” His voice hardened. “You’re going to make this difficult for yourself.”

  She almost laughed. What more could he do to her? Make her orgasm to death? He knelt between her legs and ran the brush from her belly, down to her ankles – sometimes in broad heavier strokes, sometimes in little circles that barely made contact. She felt like he’d woken up her skin, sensitizing it to every little movement and breath. He tickled it up the inside of her thigh, skipping her sex, then dragged it down the other thigh. She squirmed and panted in the bonds, watching the desire build in his expression and the tension in his body. At least she wasn’t the only one affected. The brush played along her body over and over, becoming almost painful.

  At some point he tossed the brush aside and started to use the tips of his fingers, drawing them over her like he was painting her. Her muscles kept locking together as she fought the urge to strain toward him, trying to direct his fingers to do what she wanted.

  What she wanted? Didn’t she just want to get free?

  This wasn’t about passion, it was about him doing his job. Too bad her body didn’t give a shit about his motives. Job. She had a job. Survive.

  Panting, voice barely audible, she said, “You used to lay me in the grass by the falls and kiss me until I felt dizzy. I’d spend so long breathing your air, it was like the only thing keeping me alive was you.” She swallowed at the lump in her throat. When he’d gone, her life had felt so empty. When something funny happened, she’d get excited to tell Maddox, only to remember moments later that she couldn’t. At least the letters had been something to hang on to. Until they’d stopped coming too. Only then did she move on – or try to.

  His torture stopped being polite. An eternity later, her skin felt like it could burst into flame. She wasn’t sure when she’d given up the struggle to keep her body under control, but there was no hiding it anymore.

  Maddox’s mouth on her skin was hot. He sucked, leaving angry purple bruises here and there. He nipped, making her buck and squeal. Her breasts were raw from his mouth and his stubble. The mixture of pain and pleasure hazed her thoughts. Sometimes he tapped her clit with a finger, or caught it between his knuckles for a moment. She panted and moaned. Sweat slicked her body. His tongue was everywhere.

  He lay on top of her, the bulge in his pants pressing hard on her sex. “Tell me your weapons source and I’ll show you some mercy, little rebel. Just one answer for now. That’s all you need to do.”

  Felicity ground her hips up against him, seeking relief. “You taught me all about weapons, you know.” She groaned and her voice dropped. “It started when you called me girly. I put up such a fuss,” she panted through the words, “that you agreed to teach me how to fight.”

  Then he left her and went to that damned box again. There was a clacking noise and he reappeared, leaning over her.

  How much more could she stand before she told him everything? How could she have thought this was a joke? Her body ached for the relief it knew he could give her. It hurt, being kept this close to the edge for so long. Had it been hours? Days? No. Couldn’t have been. She wasn’t hungry. Except for him. She eyed his crotch. She wasn’t the only one hungry. Would he fuck her? Could she entice him to?

  The last scrap of self-respect she’d kept was that she hadn’t started to beg yet. But she knew that it was coming.

  Cold wetness. She screeched and bucked, but he kept touching her – skimming between her breasts then circling them. The man with the ice cube in his fingers smirked at her evilly. It touched here and there. Her eyes squeezed shut. She couldn’t look, but not knowing where it was going to touch next was almost worse. His warm tongue followed in the wake of the cold, and her goose bumps grew goose bumps. A few nasty words escaped her before he abruptly stopped.

  She gasped for breath, her senses overwhelmed. Taking a chance, she opened one eye. Fuck – the ice cube was in his mouth.

  Cold lips on her chafed nipple made her writhe. “Oh, gods! No! Please don’t.”

  He sucked her nipple into his frigid mouth and she cried out.

  Kissing and nipping his way down her belly, he moved until he was between her legs again. He bit the inside of her thigh hard and she screamed. Her hips tilted toward his mouth. She couldn’t help herself. She needed his tongue…there.

  Icy mouth to hot flesh, he flicked her clit. The noise that came out of her rang in her ears as he assailed her with tongue and ice cube. A wet, ice-cold finger slid up inside of her. She howled, throat raw, as her body seized and clamped down on him. A second later the hand was gone and his cock pressed into her. Her body struggled to accommodate him after being so long unused. It was easier with the second thrust. She gave in and her muscles relaxed. He fucked her hard, slamming her into the mattress.

  “You make me crazy,” he snarled in her ear.

  All she could do was accept his vicious thrusts. She came so hard every muscle in her body hurt. Helpless, the pressure built again and again, spilling over and refilling.

  “Is this how your Maddi fucked you, girl?”

  She looked up in his angry eyes. “No. He was slow and gentle.” The words were so quiet, she doubted he’d heard. “You were all love. You’d never hurt me.”

  With a final hard plunge he swore, emptying into her. He grunted and collapsed on top of her, crushing her into his bed.

  “Fuck, Cee.”

  Wetness pooled in the crease of her neck. Tears? But they weren’t hers. Then he was kissing her. His lips skimmed over her cheeks and chin, her nose and her forehead. More tears fell onto her face.

  “I remember,” he mumbled, sobbing softly. “I remember.”

  This time the tears were hers. They trickled from the corners of her eyes and pooled uncomfortably in the folds of her ears. He kissed
them away then held her bound body to him as well as he could.

  He was back.

  She let everything go – all the anger and fear and sorrow she’d been holding in the last few weeks in order to survive. And she wept. Her body shook as the tears came faster, the sobs harder.

  Maddox was hers again. Even though her body ached and her hands were numb, she wanted to stay there forever and for him never to let her go.

  Remember I said I can’t run from fate? Well, I’m gonna try. Going off the grid and heading to America. Try not to miss me too much.

  Maddox to Felicity in a letter, August 2004

  Maddox lost track of how long he sat in his bed, watching Felicity sleep, covered in his marks, lips chafed. He remembered everything. Tears spilled again. Joy filled him, but also a sense of dread. And a cold sliver of fear. With the good came the bad. The visions he’d been having – a man screaming, afraid, alone. The man was him.

  Anger mixed with sorrow, creating a tornado of emotion. Was his father to blame? Was it all his idea? The thought disgusted him. He’d pretended to love Maddox, to be on his side. How could a father watch his son suffer? What kind of monster did that?

  And it got worse. Saith had known Felicity as a child. He’d known Maddox loved her, though he never approved. His father had charged him with torturing the only woman he’d ever loved. Maddox knew he was twisted but until now, he never understood just how much.

  He was surprised to find he didn’t feel like hurting him. That should’ve been his first thought. Anyone else would’ve wanted to punish the betrayal.

  Fuck.

  His own father. Instead, he felt sickened with grief. All these years lost, wasted in this hell. Gods, how many people had he hurt, killed, for his father? How long had he spent as a puppet of these monsters?

  Absently, he stroked Felicity’s hair. She was his only redemption. Because of her relentless fighting, he’d been freed. He wiped his tears before they fell onto her hair. What would’ve happened if she hadn’t come here? How many others would’ve died at his hands? His stomach rolled and bile rose up in his throat. He wanted to purge it all away – the memories, the knowledge he’d had a terrible part in this evil.

  Deep breath. He focused on Felicity – the silky strands against his callous palm. Her soft breaths. She was all he had left in this world. His tie to sanity. He couldn’t fathom the depth of her love. What he’d done to her….

  His other fist clenched and he fought back the urge to dig his nails into his skin. He deserved the pain. He deserved death. The things he’d said to her… This feeling of self-loathing was far worse than any physical torture he’d endured.

  But she’d stuck with him, still loved him, unconditionally. If he were a better man, he’d get her out of here and send her far away from him. But the very idea of losing her sent him into such a panic, he’d rather kill himself than face it. He needed her. Maybe one day he’d be brave enough to let her go, but right now, she held his soul in the palm of her little hand.

  She stirred then her eyes fluttered open. Smiling up at him, she said softly, “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  Her smile faded as she gazed at his face. “Maddox? Is it you, or is Inkman back?” A flicker of fear showed in her eyes as she sat up and started to back away.

  Fuck. He’d caused that. He’d made her terrified of him. It felt like he’d been stabbed in the chest.

  His hand stretched out toward her in a silent plea. “It’s me.” His voice cracked. If she rejected him, she’d be twisting the knife and he wasn’t sure he’d survive. “Your Maddox.” Please don’t leave me.

  She watched him warily for a moment before her eyes filled with tears and she collapsed onto the bed. Nuzzling her face into his pant leg, her body shook with deep sobs.

  “For a minute,” she muttered, “I thought it was a dream.”

  He stroked his hand down the smooth skin of her back, paying close attention to the feel of it against his fingers. If he never saw her again, or felt her body against his, he wanted to remember every detail. “I’m so sorry.”

  She shook her head against his leg. “Don’t say that. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Didn’t do anything wrong? “Everything is wrong about this.” He paused. How could he even put into words how he felt? “I’ll never forgive myself.”

  Finally, she pushed away and looked up at him, eyes red and puffy. “I don’t blame you. None of it was your fault. I’m just so glad you’re back.” Her bottom lip trembled as she whispered, “I missed you so much.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap. They sat in silence, holding each other as if they hadn’t seen each other in years. And, really, they hadn’t. His memories were hazy but clear enough to know who he was now, and know who he’d never be again.

  “What happened, Maddox? How did they do this to you?” She lifted her gaze, hesitant to meet his eyes, to see the truth there. “If it’s too hard to talk about, you don’t have to.”

  He thought back to the flashback he’d had in his father’s office. A forest. Running. Werewolves. Being bitten. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling a rise of panic.

  “Don’t answer,” Felicity said. “Forget I asked.”

  “I came back to stop him.” He kept his eyes closed, letting the memory take over. She deserved to know what happened. “After hiding in America for a while, I decided I couldn’t keep running and I had to face my fate eventually. I went home, hoping to talk some sense into my father and convince him to let go of his hatred. It ate at him so much. By the time I got there, he was so different.” They’d argued but his father had become so cold. “I remember it scared me. I pretended I planned to get some things in order then return to take my place on the Council. But I didn’t. I fled. I knew he had terrible plans for me. I could see it in his eyes. He wanted to use me.”

  He hadn’t expected his father to chase him down, though. “I thought maybe the worst he’d do was hold me in jail until I cooperated. I had no idea he’d….” Hurt me, make me scream, break me until I was nothing and then turn me into a weapon.

  Felicity placed a soft kiss on his chest. “I know. But why didn’t you take me to America with you? We could’ve been together.”

  “No. I couldn’t risk you that way. If you’d been with me when I was caught….” He gave her a squeeze. “I couldn’t risk it.”

  They grew silent again. He focused on her slow breaths, trying to stay centered, to drown out the violent memories. In the beginning, before he’d lost himself, thinking of her was his only solace. Like now, she’d been his tie to sanity.

  “I remember thinking I had to stay alive for you. That you’d be so heartbroken if I didn’t. I remembered our promise. That I wouldn’t die without you.” He looked down at her sadly. To think, he’d almost missed this. “I succeeded in that at least. I remember repeating your letters that I’d memorized, over and over, trying to keep my mind focused.”

  “I did the same thing in the cell,” she murmured. Her hand moved from where it’d been resting on his stomach to his arm. She traced her fingers across his scars. He flinched then forced himself to relax. She knew they were there. He had nothing to hide now.

  “Eventually, I knew he would break me. I prayed that you would forgive me.”

  “I do.” Shifting so she could reach, she leaned over and kissed his arm. She ran her lips up and down each scar, leaving small healing kisses as she went.

  “I’m a broken man, Felicity. I don’t think I’ll ever be the Maddox you loved.” He wished he were stronger, that he could walk away and let her live a normal life with a man who was more whole. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking you anyway.” Begging you. “Will you give me a chance?” Say yes. Say yes or I won’t make it long on my own.

  She sat up and looked him square in the eye. “You’re still my Maddox.” She smirked. “Just a bigger, more badass version.”

  He cracked a small smile. “An ugly, scarred versio
n.”

  “No.” She bent down and kissed the biggest scar down the middle of his other arm. “You’re not ugly. And scars are just a story. Remember how often I got hurt when I was little? I was always falling out of trees and scraping myself up. And my dad would say, scars are just proof that the world tried to get you down but you survived.” Stroking her finger up and down his bicep, she added, “You survived so much. And you came back to me.”

  “Because of you. Because you didn’t give up on me.”

  She laughed without humor. “I didn’t have a choice. It was make you remember or die here alone.” Her eyes welled up with tears. “There was a moment when I thought…” She paused and wiped the tears spilling onto her cheeks, “I thought you’d kill me.”

  Shaking his head, he placed his hand on her face, resting his thumb on that dimple in her chin. “I couldn’t do it. Even knowing I should, I couldn’t.” With his fingertips, he wiped away the tears on her cheeks. “Understand this Felicity, Inkman is gone for good. I’ll never hurt you again. I swear to the gods, I’ll never fucking hurt you again.”

  She nodded, sniffling and hiccupping, but managed a shaky smile. So trusting. Fuck, he was the luckiest man in the world.

  “I wish I was better man.” He smoothed a hand down her hair. “I’d let you go. I’d let you be happy with someone who deserved you.”

  “I don’t want you to.”

  “I’m fucked up, Cee. I don’t know if I’ll ever be normal.”

  Shaking her head, she grabbed his arm and dug her fingers in as if she were about to fight him to stay. “I don’t want normal. I want you.”

  “I’m broken.”

  “You’re changed.”

  “I can’t be fixed.”

  “People aren’t like broken furniture, Maddox. You don’t need to be fixed. Everybody changes as they grow older and experience more of life. Some of the experiences that changed you have been terrible, yes, but deep down inside, you’re still you. Nobody can break your soul, not even your father. Your mind will heal, little by little. And I’ll love you through it.”