Wrecked Read online

  “It’s a secret name. I don’t usually tell anyone. I’m a vlogger. I came here to tell viewers about this place, and about what people in power are doing to our city.” There. It was out. She planted her boots.

  Expressions she couldn’t read crossed his face.

  “What’s a vlogger?” He narrowed his eyes and stroked his beard.

  She managed to close her mouth. He didn’t seem to be kidding. Had he just stumbled out of a backyard bomb shelter from decades ago? Well, it was remotely possible that there were people who couldn’t care less about the world that was her whole life, and this hunk appeared to be one of them.

  “It’s like a blogger, you know, people who write on the Internet? Only I do it with videos.”

  “Oh, you’re a personality.”

  She hated the way he seemed to pigeon-hole her. Still, it would be safer to let him assume she was was doing the usual, watch-me-examine-my-ass crack or blather about nothing crap. Why did she care what he thought? But, fuck it, she did. In this age of low-content narcissism, she could hardly blame him for assuming the worst.

  Forcing her eyes to open out of the cat-eye glare she’d trained on him, she took three slow breaths. Probably need ten, or fifty breaths, but she didn’t have time to waste. Mr. Fix It, or rather, Mr. Destruction, was going to rip this freaking asylum to its roots.

  Smoothing her face out of its scowl, she took a shot at charming him. “I realize you’re a busy man with an important job to do. I’m not here to get in your way.” She spread her hands and looked up at him through her lashes.

  Her eyes strayed, taking in the full effect of those hard muscles stretching his T-shirt and the way his low-riding pale blue jeans enhanced the jut of his cock. She sucked in her breath. His freaking cock grew more mammoth as she watched, like a boa uncoiling, preparing to strike at a rodent. Oh, fuck.

  “I’ve got a real important job to do. I’m going to wreck you.”

  “You what?”

  “Come on.” He grabbed her arm and steered her deeper into the asylum.

  This couldn’t be happening. She’d worried Corey might get hurt cruising the park, and here she was, being manhandled by a big bruiser at the asylum.

  “Hold on.” She planted her boots.

  “What?” He stared down at her. His eyes seemed to glow like a monster in a late-night movie.

  She swallowed hard. This was out of hand. What the hell was she going to do? She didn’t have a weapon, and her street-fighting moves weren’t going to do much against a muscle stud who outweighed her so much that if he fell on her, she’d have a hell of a time getting out from under him.

  The thought of him on top of her made her brain misfire. What was she going to say?

  Sparks licked her lips. “What are you doing?”

  “Taking you to the last isolation room. It’s the cleanest place. You don’t look like the kind to appreciate getting down in the rat droppings.”

  “That’s it. We just met and you’re thinking we’re going to—get down?” she sputtered.

  “Yes. We are, aren’t we?” He towered over her. His hand, as big as her face, took hold of her chin and raised it.

  His lips doubled in her vision and pressed hers so hard she would have buckled if he hadn’t kept his grip on her arm.

  Sparks closed her eyes. It was the kiss. The one she imagined when she touched herself.

  That kiss, the bruising, taking-you-now-no-questions kiss that made her shake and go liquid inside, made the sparks that set her free. The sparks she’d named herself for, because she knew if she channeled that power, the rush that made her come, she could do anything.

  She went hot and then cold. Her knees buckled.

  His tongue pushed into her mouth and swirled. He tongue-fucked her face.

  She read tongue-fuck in one of Corey’s dirty book, had no idea. Now, she got it, fuck, she got it.

  Had anyone ever said no to this man? could she? Hell, no. Whatever the hell this was, she was in. She only hoped she’d live through this hard ride. Fuck and damn, she was in trouble now. Insane asylum was the right place for this. Crazy, so crazy, but she didn’t want out. The thing she’d always been warned about was going to happen to her.

  And she wanted it.

  His arm shot between her legs and lifted her.

  Her crotch came to rest on his hulking biceps and his other arm steadied her against his massive chest.

  Okay, the giant is carrying me away. Right. Don’t scream. She bit her lip. Would she ever tell anyone about this? Maybe Corey, but she had to survive it first.

  He plodded down a side hall, taking her through the building’s other side. No light came through the rare doorways. The reason he carried her became clear. Wreckage littered the wide hall and a huge room his long legs passed through so fast her images of it were a blur. Impressions came to her of gowned inmates against the sickly, decomposing walls. Leering orderlies. Shrieks.

  They were still here, all the damned who ended their lives here.

  She would not scream, she would not.

  The brute set her down, pushed her against a wall, and his entire huge body blotted out the world. His muscles pushed against her, hard on her breasts.

  The pressure increased and her thighs parted. Her mind had no part in it. This was pure animal surrender, the way an ape submits to a bigger ape.

  She gasped her breaths, her throat raw as though she’d run miles.

  “I get you.” He rasped.

  His fist got into her hair, the knuckles jammed against the back of her skull.

  “Wha—what?”

  “You don’t want to fight. You don’t want to ask. You don’t want to beg. You just want it to happen.”

  He ran his rough fingers along her jaw and over her lips. His sharp sweat reached her.His thumb pulled her lower lip down. His tongue tip reached hers.

  Without meaning to do it, she connected with his tongue, welcomed it.Yeah, he got her.

  The bulging pressure against her ribs...man, it was his cock, pulsing and writhing like it was trying to get out of his pants and get into her anyplace it could. Fuck. Where the hell was that thing going to fit? It was so thick, it probably wouldn’t fit in her mouth unless she could unhinge her jaw the way some snakes did. What was she doing? This could go so badly.

  “Shh, shh, shh. I know what you need. Don’t worry. You’ll be fine when we’re done. Limping, maybe, otherwise, wearing a smile that won’t quit, because I’m going to make you come so hard, you’re going to be feeling your name for the rest of your life, and whispering mine every time you want to get off.”

  “What’s your name?” How the hell did he know what her name meant?

  Her face flamed. No one knew that. That was a secret. The way her name had been secret until she gave it to him. Oh. He knew. He—had some power.

  That was her other secret, that she saw things, knew things other people didn’t like to admit existed. That was one of the secrets her mom couldn’t beat out of her. The perceptions secret was at the heart of why she became Sparks, the Truth Teller. It was an old-fashioned thing from Grandma. You had a gift, you used it. Doing otherwise would be ‘plum ungrateful.’

  His tongue licked away her tear before she realized it escaped. “I’m Echo, here in the place where we’re meeting, where our essence shines. In the outer realm, Erik the Wrecker.” His sexy grin twisted. “I wish I had one of those huge cranes with the wrecking ball to slam this place to the ground. Instead, I’m going to use explosives, and a little something extra to cast a few deserving clingers to Hell.”

  “Okay,” Sparks took a shaking breath. This was too much, going too fast, her brain had whiplash. This massive man set on ravaging her knew all the fuck about her, and he was about to wreck the asylum. And he knew there were tormentors clinging here. She wasn’t alone with that now, the clammy perception of bad spirits. Was there an off-switch to this dream, or should she just ride it out?

  Her creamed panties overrode any need f
or an answer.

  “Good idea,” he whispered. “We don’t need to talk. We can later, if you want.” His lips came closer. “I’ve been waiting for you a long time, Edrial. Sparks. We got separated in the war. I’m here to take you back.” His eyes glittered, and the deep lines around them crinkled. “I’m a man of my word, though, so first, I’m going to blow this building. And before that, I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll remember my name and scream it while you shoot sparks all the way back to where we came from.” He caressed her face, his lips so close to her skin his breath warmed her. “Beauty. Edrial. Mine. Erik is easier to say, yet as you’ll soon remember, one of my true names is Ysgorath.”

  “Ysgorath.” It sounded in her like a gong.

  It should mean something, but she couldn’t grasp it. Inside, fragments fluttered like shredded curtains in a haunted house. She knew this one...she screwed her eyes shut, feeling like she was taking the exam of a lifetime. Something...mythology? Some kind of ancient lore? But what?

  His body bore her higher up the wall. Crumbling stuff rained around them. She came to rest straddling the root of his cock. The monster throbbed at her, demanding entrance.

  “Erik, I’m, damn it, I’m a virgin.”

  He tilted back his head, eyes slitted like a cat’s in supreme pleasure. “I know. I’m going to wreck you, Sparks.”

  She shook against him. Something like bliss filled her as fear became too intense to sustain itself. Images of his cock rending her fled. She embraced full surrender in hopes the mighty beast wouldn’t rend her beyond repair.

  He yanked at her jeans, hands clumsy on them, huge and fumbling, his scent stronger, edged with lust and urgency.

  Her panties were over. Wriggling made her slide in her juice. At least she had a lot of lube to help that huge thing get inside. Oh, she wanted it inside no matter what it was going to do to her. Fuck, oh, fuck. This was what she got for getting hot when she read about impalement and other horrible things. He was going to skewer her.

  A low chuckle blew her hair. “Let’s get these things off of you. We’re going shopping later for clothes with better access. It’s everything I can do to keep from cutting these open right here.” He ran his finger through her slickness.

  Her eyes rolled. Fingers crazy clumsy, she got her jeans open and yanked them down. Hopping onto one foot, she pulled off one boot.

  He peeled that jeans leg off of her.

  “There. That will do.” His hand under her ass raised her to his face. His mouth came down on her, heat and slippery wetness met hers and he took her entire sex in his maw and feasted on her, lips and tongue like another set of genitals pleasuring her, like a fantasy of two pussies meeting and grinding and fuck, oh, fuck, his tongue found her best spot. He trapped her against his face.

  Tonguing her without stopping, he muscled her over the cliff, slammed her through her orgasm, helpless, clinging to him, body and soul rocked, feet dangling limp, head thrown back, throat and lips a raw O.

  He owned her. He already did.

  Those huge hands lowered her unresisting body.

  Her glazed eyes noticed his T-shirt had disappeared revealing gold rings in his nipples. All the tantalizing ripples of his chest and abdomen moved with his breath. She put out her tongue and tasted him as he lowered her.

  Her petals parted over his cock head. It felt like a fist wanted to get inside her.

  His eyes flashed. Huge hands caged her hips.

  He pushed her down on it.

  Her body parted in a sharp tear and he forced his cock upward as those hands pulled her down to his root.

  Sparks howled. “Ysgorath.”

  She knew him, gods, yes, she knew him. He was the one, always the one, the only one.

  “I’m here, my love.” He wrecked her.

  “Oh, oh, yes.” Her man wrecked her.

  She dug her nails into his back and raked him. He howled with her and fucked her with such force, it felt like they’d take the damned asylum down ahead of the explosives.

  “Fuck, oh, fuck.”

  “Yeah, you’re back, Edrial. My forever love, my cat.”

  Her cries rose around them, beyond words, the heart-song of pleasure, stuffed full of him, his pounding fuck a fire inside her, stoking her higher and harder as his thick cock reached deep, deep inside her, pummeling her, making her let go.

  All the years of this life faded and the sparks spread out, a galaxy, many galaxies, tapestries of time beyond meaning. Eons, they had eons before and behind them. They were elementals. He was hers, her love forever.

  The ecstasy of it, and the forced his cock so deep she felt it in her womb and her heart, took her over. She gouged his ass with her nails, making him roar.

  He bit her throat, and she came loose, crying out her ecstasy as they joined in full union, sparks together, rising beyond heavens, beyond time, eternal.

  He fired into her, filling her so deep, corking her with his cock, holding her there, filled to his root, his entire length pulsing in her opened no-longer virgin body and keeping time with her heart.

  “Mine, mine, mine,” he murmured against her bruised throat.

  “Mine.” Sparks took hold of his hair and tugged it hard. She kissed him with possessive force.

  Edrial was back.

  A Blink

  He rested his hands on her hips and touched her forehead against his.

  Peace enveloped her. She fought it. Letting go like this was dangerous. What the hell had he done to her?

  “Maybe I’ll just call you Red Beard.” She gave the thick growth a tug.

  “I wouldn’t.”

  “Why not?”She licked her lips. Taunting him felt familiar.

  He grabbed her arms and pinned them behind her back.

  Growling, she kicked him and got the satisfaction of seeing him wince. It seemed like they’d sparred this way for ages. “You don’t play fair, you big lug.”

  “What fun would that be?” Keeping a tight grip on her, he directed a feral smile into her strained, upturned face. “Never heard you complain when I saved your ass in battle.”

  Grinning like a bad boy, he released her.

  “You are a wild man.” She teetered, caught her balance, and rubbed her arms. They felt rope-burned.

  Glaring at him, she stuck her leg back in her jeans, tugged them into place, and got her boot back on. She patted her pack. Good thing she wrapped her camera before she got pounded on it.

  “No. I’m Ysgorath. It’s different.” He grinned. “Call me Erik.” He goosed her ribs.

  The light flared. The Truth Teller got the clue. All that light-show of realization during that mind expanding orgasm had faded, but it rushed in now like a bullet train.

  “You’re telling me you’re a god? Wait. You mean like old-mythology-god, or Neil Gaimon god?”

  “There’s a difference?”

  “Put on the brakes. You called me—Edrial. Is she? Am I—?” She choked. She couldn’t say it. Even though the Sunday school days, the Bible camps, and the beatings were long behind her, she couldn’t utter an unbelievable blasphemy. She flinched as though her mother was still alive, cord from the old percolator in her hand.

  “A god? Yes, or goddess, if you prefer. Being a god doesn’t require a standard gender. Our first being, among others, was beyond the binary. To each the their own. I’m fond of the raging testosterone in this body, despite the aspersions on masculinity in the present age. Not that some of the criticisms aren’t warranted, but when you squash boys for being boys from a young age, don’t be surprised when you get poor excuses for men.” He clucked his tongue. “Enough of that. There’s no point in debating the shortcomings of this time and place, it’s as ephemeral as, well, human life. This is a blink, nothing more.”

  Sparks blinked at Erik. A blink, nothing more.

  A tear trailed down her face and dripped off her jaw. This meant everything meant nothing.

  Her struggle to survive, to find hiding places to escape her mother’s alc
oholic rages, her studying with a flashlight under the covers, her stupid, miserable jobs, and getting into college. It was all a big nothing because this big lug said she was someone else, someone more important than Sparks the Truth Teller and the poor girl who spawned her own vision of a hero. That meant she was no one and none of what she’d lived through, none of what she’d done and was trying to do meant anything. The video footage of the asylum, everything a waste, meaningless. The video camera she scrimped to get, her laptop, totally nothing, totally without point.

  She wavered on her boots, head slipping upwards like a helium balloon. Her stomach turned over and she heaved.

  As her body struggled to pass out, she focused on Erik. “Get away from me, you monster. Leave me alone. I hate you. Don’t you dare touch me. Don’t you speak to me again.”

  Not realizing what she’d do, she sneezed violently and sparks rushed from her and ignited his beard. He slapped at it.

  What the fuck was that? Now she breathed fire like a dragon? She needed to leave.

  She ran full tilt down the hall, veering through the crazy shadows, the sense of horror, the suffering of crazy people, the certainty that he would follow.

  She reached the side door and scrambled through the jagged opening like a birth into her estranged life. Her hood caught her by the throat. She fought a scream and whipped around.

  A nail had it, not him. She yanked her hood free and bounded under the trees to run on the oak leaves. No way she’d run on that slick grass and fall like a bad horror movie heroine. The fall was what got you killed. That, and being stupid enough to ignore every warning that would have prompted a reasonable person to get the fuck out the wrong place.The wrong place was where you were so cocky, you didn’t think you were going to die.

  She pounded to the gate, pushed through it, and slammed down the sidewalk, racing to get around the corner so he’d have no sight line when he came after her.

  Was it possible an inmate of the asylum stayed there all this time?

  She held the stitch in her side and kept running. No, she wished she could believe he was lying, but deep inside, as deep as his cock reached, she knew he told her the truth.