Forever Lost: Becoming Elena - Book Two (15 page)

D
alton didn’t get
far before he was pushing Elena against him, backing them both into a low wall, his breathing coming out in rough pants as his eyes turned black with rage and . . . desire.

His fury was so great Elena couldn’t tell if he wanted to hit her or kiss her. Either way, she no longer cared. His power over her was forever severed. Never again would he tell her what to do.

When she didn’t immediately react to his mood, confusion washed across his face. She could see the conflicting emotions fly across his expression. That was a first. She looked at him analytically, wondering if she might now be the one breaking him.

“What in the hell are you doing?” he finally demanded, getting his equilibrium back. She was thrust backward, her body slamming into the wall, jolting her. The pain was a reminder of where she was — who she was.

She smiled, which infuriated him all the more.

“Do you have no clue how deadly I can be?” he threatened.

“You don’t scare me, Dalton,” she taunted.

“Are you looking for danger, Elena? Have you grown bored with me being too civilized?” he raged.

“Dalton —”

He cut her off by lifting his hand to her throat, his fingers squeezing. She didn’t move, didn’t try to ply his hand away. She didn’t care. He wouldn’t truly end her. She knew that. There was nothing to fear.

How had she been afraid of this man for so long? He was weak, as weak as her. He just wrapped his insecurities in a package so tight, it was hard to get underneath. But now Elena knew it was only a façade. She would now be the one wrapped in a tight package of her own — however, she wouldn’t allow it to be unwrapped.

“Do you have any idea who I am?” he demanded, his fingers flexing.

“Yes, Dalton, I know exactly who you are,” she said, her voice calm, which only infuriated him more.

“No!” he screamed. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

His fingers released her throat, and he took a step back, his chest moving as he quickly sucked in air. Elena braced herself against the wall, not trying to run away. They were having a showdown, and she had a front seat. Why would she want to run?

Never again would she flee. She would walk with her head high, her shoulders back, and her head clear. Taking a minute, she analyzed her feelings.

There was desire sitting in her stomach, low and pulsing, but overriding that desire was a new strength that wasn’t dissipating. It was growing, building, turning in to something too great to be stopped.

“I choose who I want you to be with. I choose who can touch you. In no condition ever, do you embarrass me and pull a stunt like you did tonight. The punishment coming for you will make you wish you’d never been born,” he threatened.

A few months ago, heck, a few weeks ago, those words would have filled her with terror. Now, they did nothing to her. It really was all about power. Whoever held the power was the one who impacted with threats. Once that power was severed, the threat had no meaning.

“You don’t control me anymore, Dalton,” she said, her words still calm, her face unchanging.

His head whipped around, his gaze glaring into hers. He took a menacing step toward her, and she didn’t flinch, which surprised him enough to stop. But then she saw something that looked almost like desperation flicker through his eyes, and she felt the low simmer in her stomach flare.

One last time.

She wanted one last time with this man she’d been so dependent on, who had controlled her life for too many years. He would take her, but only because she would allow it.

“Like hell I don’t,” he said, his voice quiet and deadly.

Her core heated. She wanted it all — his passion, his fury, his control. She wanted to own him as he had owned her for so long. And when they finished she knew, beyond a doubt, the man would forever be burned within her soul. He wouldn’t own it, but he would always be a part of it.

Elena saw the moment he broke, saw the animal instinct take over. Less than a second before he stormed forward, his hand pressed against the wall on either side of her, and he trapped her within his arms.

There was no more speaking before his arms wrapped around her, pulling her tight, and his lips were capturing hers.

This wasn’t a gentle kiss — it was wild and desperate — it was fierce and erotic. It took the breath from her and didn’t allow her to take another. She tugged against him, turning just as desperate as he was, opening her lips for him to thrust his tongue deep inside as he tried to possess her.

There was a new intensity between them that hadn’t been there before. It was goodbye, whether he was conscious of that or not. And Elena wanted him — wanted this moment.

His hands traveled over her dress, scorching her through the material, as he reached her heaving chest, his fingers clamping down on her nipples and tugging, making her moan against his lips.

She wanted him to rip the material away, remove the obstacle that prevented skin on skin contact. She wiggled against him in frustration, which seemed to ignite him even more.

His mouth became frantic, devouring her, taking her bottom lip between his teeth and biting down. His fingers were desperate as he swallowed her cry, pinching hard on her nipple, making her back arch.

Her breasts were aching when he moved his hand down her side, along her hip, and finally found the slit in her dress. He slid beneath it like he owned her, his sure fingers sliding to the inside of her thigh before moving up and tracing the outside of her core.

He pulled back and gasped, his eyes molten with unrestrained desire when he found she wasn’t wearing panties, wasn’t wearing anything to block him from her smooth skin.

He didn’t hesitate before sliding his fingers inside her dripping heat and cupping her, his thumb brushing against the outside, making her nearly come apart in his arms.

Elena reached behind his neck and ran her fingers through his hair, tugging him closer as she kissed him with all the pent-up passion she never seemed able to get a handle on. She wanted him, and she wasn’t afraid to show it.

She felt the tug of her gown as he lifted it away, and then he was lifting her, setting her on the low wall, lining her up perfectly with him. Yes. Yes. Yes. She wanted him buried deep within her core — wanted this piece of him she could take with her.

This wasn’t about tenderness and making up. This was passion, possessive and rough. This was both of them staking their claim. There would be no winners.

Dalton continued kissing her, his teeth nibbling on her lips, his fingers shoved deep inside her body. His other hand gripped her breast and squeezed, and she still wanted more.

Elena was spinning out of control, losing her grip on reality, and she knew this was her favorite place to be, her only safe place to be.

“Take me now, Dalton,” she demanded.

Her tone made him pause, but he didn’t stop. His fingers pulled from her as his lips moved down her neck, and he pulled the top of her gown down, exposing her hard nipples to the cool evening air.

He ran his tongue across both of them, making them more sensitive. Then he clamped down on one before pulling her hips forward. When she felt his thickness at her opening, she was overjoyed that he’d managed to get his pants undone.

He clamped his teeth over a nipple and thrust inside her in a harsh motion, nearly rocking her off the stone wall.

The night lost all sense of time as he pounded fiercely within her heated walls, his lips and teeth devouring her breasts, his hands bruising her hips, and his thickness filling her. She didn’t want it to end.

“Come for me,” he demanded.

And it didn’t matter that he no longer owned her. In this one instance, she was his. Her body exploded around him. She was suddenly spinning out of control with nowhere to land, and no chance of coming down. Somewhere in her consciousness she felt his own release, felt his hot spurts of pleasure filling her insides, heard his groan of completion mingle with hers in the cool night air.

She continued spinning for minutes or possibly hours.

When her body went limp, she knew the only thing keeping her stable was Dalton’s hands gripping her hips. When he pulled from her body, she wanted to protest.

Only her new will kept her from doing just that. What a perfect ending to an imperfect relationship.

“Damn you, Elena,” he said in a whisper, his breath against her forehead as he leaned into her. “What have you done to me?”

“Nothing you haven’t done to me,” she said.

There was no anger in her voice. Why should there be? It was over, and they both knew it. No more accusations or threats needed to be hurled.

“You’re leaving.”

This was a statement not a question. He had felt the finality in their intense lovemaking. At least he wasn’t stupid.

“Yes, Dalton, I’m leaving. We’re finished.”

She wasn’t cruel when she spoke the words. They were having this conversation almost politely, as she sat there, her clothes in disarray, his release resting inside her. The words were almost civil, while neither of them were remotely normal.

“Elena, we will never be finished, no matter how far apart we are.”

There was something in his tone she couldn’t quite interpret, and that, more than the words, sent a shiver through her. Was he right? Would she never truly escape him? She wasn’t sure. But she certainly didn’t like not knowing.

Shaking her head, Elena pushed him away. Dalton stepped back, adjusting his clothes, not meeting her eyes while he did. Elena put her dress back in as much order as she could and moved a few more steps from him before looking up, waiting for his eyes to meet hers.

“Goodbye, Dalton.”

His dark eyes flared for a moment, and he moved half a step closer as if he was going to try to stop her. But he stopped, and acceptance marked his expression. He didn’t say a word, just nodded his head.

Elena turned and walked away. She didn’t look back.

T
he world faded
away as Elena soared through the clouds. Her worries were left behind and she felt . . . free. For the first time in months, or more accurately in years, she was free. Free from her troubled memories, free from the man who had trapped her but never loved her, free from the life she had never asked for, free . . .

No matter what happened from now on, she would never go back. The people who had hurt her seemed so much smaller now, the lights that had once been so blinding were merely twinkles on the ground. She could pinch her fingers together and those lights — those people — disappeared. Mary was dead. And Elena had been reborn. And she would show them all exactly what that meant.

Smiling, she studied the bag cradled in her lap, the bag holding everything she would need to start her new life. As Seattle faded away, Elena decided she would return one day — she would return, and she would never be afraid again.

But for now, Elena was on a new path, a path that would lead her in a direction she wasn’t entirely sure she was ready for. But there would be no regrets. Regrets were a thing of the past, and she wouldn’t allow herself to feel them ever again.

Elena was free . . .

See what happens with the new path Elena has chosen. Will Dalton or Darcy come back? Will she meet someone new? Find out in the conclusion of “Becoming Elena.”

New Desires
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