Page 128 of Cruel Abandon (Fallen Royals 5)

I can’t, I almost say—almost, because the lump is back in my throat and I don’t think I can do this. Not with him. Not like this. I don’t want to know if I’m not a virgin, if my trauma was rape. If someone violated me like that and then my mind cut it out.

I close my eyes.

“Look at me,” he orders. “Sky. Look. At. Me.”

As soon as I open my eyes, he pushes into me.

The pain of it—oh, I wasn’t prepared. It’s a tear that comes from inside me, but it’s more than that. It’s an echo, a ripple. Something cracks open in me, and it’s more than I can handle.

But no tears come. Nothing except that lump in my throat, which threatens to suffocate me.

He moves ever so slightly, thrusting in. Farther, deeper.

I didn’t realize there was more to go, but then he lets out a low groan.

“Damn, Sky, you feel too good.”

And I… I’m full, but it’s not computing.

I reach up and touch his face, his lips, his cheeks.

He releases my throat and braces his forearms on either side of my head. His hips move, pulling back. Pulling out. I tremble at the draw of it, the slide of his skin against mine.

Without warning, he slams back into me. He hits a spot deep inside me, and we both groan. He raises my leg up, bending it, and moves at a different angle. His pace is brutal, quick. Hell, an outsider might even call it angry.

I know better.

He’s trying to resuscitate me.

I gasp, digging my nails into his back. He lets out a hiss in response.

“Come back to me.” He bites my neck—hard.

Everything hurts. Fire licks under my skin. And beneath it all, a flicker of light. I’m flooding back into myself, shocked at the intrusion of emotions. Sadness and grief and overwhelming lust, and something deeper—

The sensations are too much. My climax rolls through me without warning, and Liam stills. I breathe, my muscles pulsing to a strange beat I haven’t learned yet.

And then… I laugh.

He grins, then picks up his pace. I curl my legs around his hips, digging my heels into his ass. He comes with a groan, his head falling to my shoulder.

I slide my fingers through his hair.

Carefully, he withdraws from me and sits up. I push onto my elbows, staring at the apex of my legs. There’s blood smeared on the inside of my thighs, mixing with… him, his cum, seeping out of me.

“You weren’t raped,” he says, kissing the edge of my jaw.

I cup his cheek and grapple with the relief. What do I say to that? Thank you? Doesn’t seem like it would cover it. I had been expecting the worst.

That’s the thing when you can’t remember your trauma: there’s no limit to the possibilities of what happened.

35

Sky

I stand on the edge of the forest behind my house, young and terrified.

This time, Liam is away. A football game, I think, or practice. My parents are working.