Stolen Melody (Snow and Ash #2) (7 page)

He grabs my crotch.

I stiffen. “Really?”

He licks his lips. “Yes.” He pushes me down onto the sleeping bag and shoves my shirt up over my head. I can’t see and my hands are trapped. He runs his hands over my breasts in a soft caress. He squeezes them, using his thumbs to flick my nipples. Liquid ecstasy surges to my core. No one ever told me sex could feel this good. His lips replace his hands, and soon I’m having trouble keeping quiet. Even though I know that huge penis of his is going to hurt me, my body yearns for it. I long to be filled.

I push and shove until I’m free of my bonds, and I run my hands over his face. I pull his head to my breast and arch.

“Yeah.” His voice is soft. He moves up to kiss me, and his full, sensuous lips press into mine like they were meant for me. His tongue mates with mine, and I can’t think. I feel plenty, though, and by now I’m breathing so heavily that I’m sure the men can hear me. He unzips his pants and guides my hand to his dick. “Feel it.”

Oh hell yeah.
I run my hand up and down the length of him, run my palm over the tip. He’s already slick with precum. My belly clenches even though the thing’s too big and I know he’ll hurt me.

“It only hurts in the beginning. You’ll get used to me.” His eyes capture a flicker of the fire from downstairs. I almost think he cares.

He runs his hands along my body, and my belly jumps in anticipation as he unzips my jeans and slides them to my ankles. Before I realize what he’s doing, he mounts me. He rubs the tip of his erection against my opening, and I’m so wet he slides right in. “You’re so ready for me,” he groans as he shoves himself all the way inside me. I swear he smacks right up against my womb. I clench my teeth and grunt. It hurts, maybe even worse than last night. He begins to work his hips, and his dick scrapes my raw, torn flesh. I push against his chest. “You’re hurting me.”

His eyes flare, and he takes my face between his hands. “I like hurting you.”

Tears spring to my eyes. “Why?”

He sucks in a breath, and his eyes flutter shut.

“I like seeing you cry,” he says, grinding his cock deep. “I like feeling you struggle to get away. But I’m your protector, and there’s nowhere you can go.” He pumps harder, shoving my body farther up the matting with each stroke. “God, your tight little pussy feels good.”

As if to prove his point, tonight he rides me extra long, and he answers each of my winces and moans with gritted teeth and hard slaps of his balls against my bottom. Then his strokes grow frantic, and it’s like he’s in almost as much pain as I am. All at once he squeezes his eyes shut, arches his back, gives a tortured moan, and shoots his load. It feels weird. Wet. A moment later he collapses on top of me. “Mine,” he pants.

“Get it out,” I hiss. “I hate you.”

He shakes his head. “You loved what I was doing all the way up until I fucked your cunt.”

The conviction in his voice irritates me. “You’re too big.”

This appears to please him. Well, he smiles, anyway. Obligingly, he pulls out of me, and I feel his seed leaking onto my tender parts. I catch his scent—our scent. A combination of musk, sweat, and cum.

I think we’re done for the night, but Axel shifts his position until he’s between my knees.

“Wait. Don’t.” I reach to stop him, but then he presses his mouth to my clit. My body responds. He gives me a series of licks that make me not want to move, ever, except to spread my knees wider. He runs his tongue back and forth over me, and my eyes fall shut as electric pleasure shoots to my belly, to the tips of my breasts. His tongue worships me like I’m some kind of goddess and, moaning, I arch to meet him.

He reaches for my sweatshirt and balls up the sleeve. “Here,” he says, handing it to me. “Use this to muffle your cries.”

For some reason his words turn me on like nothing else. I stuff the sleeve of my sweatshirt in my mouth, and after that I abandon myself to pleasure. He brings me near the peak several times and stops just short every time. I throw the sleeve aside. “Please,” I beg him. “God, Axel. Don’t stop.”

He smiles up at me, and it’s a little nasty. “I told you I’d make you come.”

While he uses his lips and tongue to tease my clit, he shoves two fingers up my cunt, and even though I’m sore, the combination of pain and acute pleasure excites me. His fingers find an especially tender spot. God, I’m an animal, and I can’t stop rocking my hips in rhythm with the thrusts of his fingers and tongue. After one final series of flicks, I’m lost. I arch my back and draw in a sharp breath. I bite my lips until they’re bloody, but I’m completely lost to reason. It’s only the second orgasm of my life, but the intensity of it makes me want to scream. It’s all I can do to hold it down to a whimper.

When my hips stop bucking and my toes stop pointing, he kisses my belly and shifts upward until his head rests against my breasts. In about thirty seconds he begins to snore.

I have been well and truly fucked.

That’s when I hear it. It’s a subtle sound, but still…I hear someone breathing over by the ladder. I go still. Is someone watching? A creek of the ladder tells me someone is there.

I am not sleepy. I am wide awake, and I’m staring into the near darkness for any sign of movement. Should I wake Axel? I listen. I listen so hard it’s like I’m projecting my eardrums out into the universe, but the only sound that greets me is the crackling fire on the lower level.

No one is there. No one ever was. I convince myself of this as I wrap my knees around my lover and clasp him to my chest.

It’s a long time before I fall asleep.

Jerky again. This time it’s not beef. Yes, I can tell the difference. I don’t care how much garlic the chef used.

“Can I have some of that water?” Maybe that’ll wash the taste out of my mouth.

Axel is chewing. Vigorously. I laugh, but it’s totally graceless and comes out more like a snort-giggle.

He swallows hard and smirks. “Groundhog. Makes good eatin’.”

I’m still bursting with giggles when he hands me the water. The fact that it’s groundhog meat doesn’t upset me. Even in Sadie’s Bend we ate wild game. A team of guys went out and trapped a bunch of critters before they all started dying off, and we have cages full of edibles. They breed them, of course. The entire gymnasium floor is devoted to growing feed for them.

I take a long drink, wash the gamy taste from my mouth, and screw the cap back on. Yesterday at this time I couldn’t find a laugh to save my life. That Centos guy. I’m still trying to figure these men out. Are they like mobile mafia? A biker gang without bikes?

Axel is wearing an unnaturally good-natured expression. I don’t want to ruin it, but I have to know what it is that governs these people.

“Is this code thing a secret?” I tighten up, expecting him to get weird on me.

He slides me a glance out of the corner of his eye and turns the jerky over and over in his hands. He swallows, and his mouth puckers up. I’m just about to give up on getting an answer when he ducks his head and shrugs. He looks almost…shy.

I don’t know why, but this touches my heart.

“It’s not a secret.” He shakes his head. “It’s ours and we don’t share it with outsiders, but you’re not an outsider anymore.”

He smiles. No, it’s more of a smirk, and I figure he’s thinking about my initiation.

God, what is it with guys and sex? I roll my eyes and sigh.

He unzips his coat and pulls aside the layers of clothing. “We all have these,” he says and points at one of his tattoos. Unlike the others, it’s crudely drawn, as though he didn’t have it done in a parlor with clean needles and sterile equipment. Post-apocalyptic, definitely.

“It shows our affiliation.” He adjusts his clothing and rezips his coat.

Not mafia. I’m thinking inner-city gang.

“For one thing, it’s a brotherhood. We’ve got each other’s backs. We do whatever it takes to defend our territory. Die for it if necessary.”

“How big is your territory?” If Sadie’s Bend is now a part of it, that’s at least twenty miles of…whatever they call themselves.

Axel shrugs. Again. That seems to be sign language for
I’m not going to answer you.

“I know you think we’re violent,” he says. “I guess we are to a point, but we don’t kill unless we have to, and we never kill for pleasure. We never hurt the innocent ones—”

“Yeah, right.”

“—unless they won’t cooperate.” He flicks me a look. “You asked.”

I look to the sky. I’m looking for answers, but all I see is a mass of dark brownish gray. I cock my head. “You defend your world, you defend each other, and you try not to hurt the little people. Is that it?” Sounds pretty lame to me.

His lips twitch. “No stealing or lying to each other. No disrespecting other members of the gang. Don’t get in another guy’s business unless he’s breaking the code. You want more?”

“I want all of it.”

His eyes sparkle. “And I’ll give it to you. I promise.”

I throw my hands up. It still burns when I pee. “What is it with guys?”

He grins. “We don’t kill women or children. No torture, no rape, no roughing them up either.”

“Hey, wait a minute. That’s not true. Look what happened back at the house.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You asked me to.”

My chest burns. “I did not.”

“You begged. Twice, I remember.”

“Oh, now come on…” The guy is delusional.

“Please fuck me, Axel, fuck me hard,” he says in a falsetto voice.

“Shut up!”

He’s laughing, and I shove him. Hard.

“You blackmailed me.”

“You could have said no. I was prepared to leave.”

“Yeah, and tell the whole town I’m the slutty girl who wore a thong to the MTV music awards.”

He chuckles. “Like I said. You chose.”

I remember something else. “What about those twenty guys who were ready to gang bang me the second you left my house?”

He has the grace to look ashamed.

I choke on my own spit. The bastard. “You lied!”

“You don’t put the moves on another guy’s girl either,” he says as though he doesn’t notice that I’m seething. “You do and it’s a challenge. You’d better be real sure you want her and real sure you’ll win the fight. It’s a fight to the death.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. What happens to the girl if her…claimer…loses?”

“It’s up to her whether she accepts the new guy.”

“Oh, well, at least you’re democratic about it. This is barbaric. You realize that, right?”

He is all soberness now. “It’s necessary.”

“It is not.”

“You lived in that little town in the middle of nowhere. It was like the apocalypse completely skipped you guys. It’s not like that out here, Melody. It’s nothing like what you’re used to.”

“Just because you choose to—”

“There is no government. No police. No food, and nowhere to get it. You want to eat? You want protection? You get in with a gang. A good one.”

He’s right. I don’t know what the world is like. To me, the apocalypse is winter with no electricity. To the rest of the world, who knows what it is? “Are there any women gang members?”

“No.”

Nice. “Then what do the girls do? Hide in bunkers?”

“Girls are protected by their men. You get claimed by a member of the gang, the gang will protect you.” His face softens. “I’ll protect you.”

The way he says it, all possessive and dreamy… I feel warm. Glowy.

But only for a second. “You know, I don’t care how bad things are. If you’re a girl, you don’t have free will anymore? That’s bullshit.”

He scrunches up like I’m killing him and he can’t figure out how to explain it to me.

Right now, if I could twist his balls until he screamed, I would.

He sighs and tries to pull me to him.

“Don’t. Just don’t.” I shrug out of his grip and step back.

“Melody—”

“Imogen!” I can’t look at him anymore. “I have to pee.”

I pivot and charge through the snow toward the ugly split-level house that sits about twenty feet off what passes for a road. We’ve stopped to rest the horses in what I once would have called country. There’s a house every quarter mile or so, but they look like they were all ransacked a long time ago. The windows of this one are smashed out, and so’s the front door. On the sagging porch lies a torn-out couch, its rusted springs poking out through the dirty, weathered stuffing.
   

Tetanus. I remember hearing that if you step on a rusty nail, you get tetanus. If I brushed up against one of those springs and opened a wound, what would happen to me?
 
Would my jaw lock up, my muscles freeze one by one until my heart stopped working?
 
Nothing of what I saw today ever touched Sadie’s Bend. The knowledge that one scratch could kill feels like a punch to the gut.
 

I feel like kicking something.
 
Instead, I storm through the door in search of a toilet.

I’m so mad at Axel I can hardly think straight. I hate the whole damn world. I hated Sadie’s Bend, but at least there I was a person. We had this thing called civil rights. People fought hard for those once. Why aren’t people standing up? Fighting back? If the rest of the world is like this, how does anyone find the will to live?