Isolation: Book 2 of The Quarantine Series Page 6

  I need to know that the same is true for her.

  I need her to know that I am the only man for her—the only one she is allowed to think of, to dream of.

  I roughly grip her hair with one hand to wrench her head back, my mouth moving to the back of her neck to bite down.

  True to her word, she doesn’t fight me but stays hell bound on ignoring my ministrations, as if waiting for me to finish.

  I pull my cock out of my sweatpants with my other hand. Using the arm around her waist to lift her up, I position my hips under hers to guide my cock to her opening. I slide her down on my hard cock and tighten my hold around her waist.

  “Fuck!” I clench my teeth as her tight pussy squeezes my dick.

  I slowly lift her with the hand around her waist and slide her back down on my dick again. Her right leg is still stretched out in front of us, elevated on a pillow.

  All movements need to be careful.

  After a few moments, I tilt my face to see her biting down on her bottom lip.

  I almost smile. Stubborn little thing. She doesn’t want me to hear her moan.

  Raven finally bucks, surprised by her own reaction. “Oh God,” she cries out in my arms.

  Raven's body is clenching; her little pussy is squeezing me so damn tight. Her hands are fisting into my thighs.

  “See baby, you react like this because physical exchanges are heightened when your body connects with someone your soul is connected to," I whisper in her ear. "Your soul craves me because it’s not a shallow bond. It’s the deepest bond you have experienced. That’s how I have always known that you are mine. Every part of your body subconsciously knows that you belong to one man: me.”

  Her voice slightly croaks, but she doesn't make any legible sounds.

  I can feel Raven’s thighs quaking. Her back is arching against me, her nails are clawing my thighs as if she can’t take it for a second longer.

  “That’s it, baby,” I praise her ability to let go. “Don’t hold back now,” I nudge her further into it.

  She screams, moaning incoherently. As soon as I hear the orgasm wrenched out of her, I yank at her hair to move her face. I devour her mouth and come.

  We are both shaking.

  My hands are trembling.

  I kiss her hair and hang on to her tightly until I feel her heartbeat slow down. Once we both calm down, I reposition her to pull out.

  “You are so beautiful,” I murmur as I move her to the pillow.

  Raven fixes her clothes while I swap out her old compressor for a cold, new one. Her leg is looking better. She should be fine by tomorrow.

  Raven doesn’t acknowledge my presence while I tend to her. When I am done, she stares blankly at the ceiling.

  I drop my sweatpants and shirt on the floor before climbing on the bed. Wrapping an arm around her stomach, my head hits the same pillow as hers.

  I am staring at her in awe, like the obsessed man that I am. I am drowning in her. She is so beautiful with her hair in disarray, her breasts jutting out, and her lips bruised from my kisses.

  My numb arms are lying limp on top of her. She is still staring at that damn ceiling, while I am staring at her.

  Minutes go by as I idly wait for a quiet Raven to speak. I mentally will her to feel the same fierce insanity I feel for her. To crave me, as I crave her. Like a drug. Like an addiction. Because that’s what she is to me.

  She is an unbearable addiction. It's insufferable. My body isn’t my own and my mind isn’t my own until I have her.

  I gave Raven half a pill to avoid causing dependency, but it’s my dependency that's breaking her.

  Yet, I am never going to let her go again. She is crucial to my existence.

  My gaze stays horizontal, still obsessing over the only woman I have ever wanted.

  Her gaze stays vertical, still hating every part of me.

  She can hate me all she wants. That's alright.

  I love her enough for both of us.

  -----------

  Raven

  As soon as I see sunlight sweeping through the window, I give up trying to go to sleep and experiment with putting pressure on my leg.

  I am able to hop around today, so I slowly make my way downstairs and head to the living room couch.

  We are supposed to have a family brunch today. I want to take a shower beforehand, but I rather wait till Milo leaves my room to do so.

  In the interim, I am glued to my phone.

  I have already sent numerous apology texts to Reid this morning. All of my calls are being forwarded straight to his voicemail.

  There is nothing on his social media either.

  I just want to know that he is safe.

  “How are you feeling this morning, Rave?”

  I look up to find a calm and collected Milo cascading down the stairs. He looks freshly showered, shaved, in blue jeans and a black T-shirt.

  The room still seems hazy from my lack of sleep. I instinctively pinch my forearm in an attempt to wake myself up.

  My eyes go back to my phone. “Just... recovering from my brain damage.”

  “Brain damage?” Milo chuckles. “Aren’t we being slightly melodramatic?”

  “We are not. Concussion is a form of brain damage.”

  “No, concussion is a brain injury that can possibly lead to brain damage.”

  I eye the staircase behind him, instead of arguing with him some more. “I am going to go take a quick shower before brunch starts,” I point towards the stairs. “I’ll see you later.”

  He gives me a curt nod, and I slowly limp my way upstairs. I am shocked by our civil exchange based on what transpired just last night. It’s mindfuckery to the ultimate.

  I discard my clothes to change into a bathrobe. While the tub fills up with hot water, I sit at the edge of my bed to type an email to Reid since texting is clearly futile.

  I am so engrossed in my phone that I don’t notice Milo’s looming presence on top of me. I stop typing when I finally notice his shadow.

  He is looking down at the phone screen. Quickly, I hit the lock button on my phone, but it’s of no use.

  He saw who I was emailing.

  “Everyone is downstairs now,” he says rigidly. “Your mom wants to know if they should wait for you to start brunch.”

  “No,” I whisper. “They can start eating without me. I’ll come down shortly.”

  Milo makes no effort to move. He is visibly stiff, and I eye his agitated body language. The room is thick with tension without either of us having to speak.

  Finally, he leans over the bed to grab my phone out of my hand.

  “Dude, what are you doing?”

  Milo doesn’t respond to me. At least he doesn’t know my code, so he won’t be able to unlock the phone to read the email.

  However, that wasn’t Milo's intention.

  Milo walks over to the window with my phone in hand, opens the window so I feel the chill of winter and nonchalantly throws my phone out of it.

  What.

  The.

  Fuck.

  Did that just happen? Who does that?

  I have no idea how to process this, but I do know that I need to cut my losses right now.

  Milo closes the window and turns to stare at me with his unnerving gaze. Without thinking twice I hobble towards the bathroom to lock myself in, as it’s closer than my bedroom door.

  Milo charges behind me, picks me up by the waist, slamming the bathroom door behind us. He spins me around and pins me to the wall, using one hand to trap both of my wrists.

  He looks more of a fanatic than ever before.

  My panic comes back with full force. I can’t choke out a single word no matter how hard I try.

  I start shaking from my dread.

  Milo is shaking as well but from anger.

  “I thought I made myself clear about Reid,” he spits venom through his clenched teeth. His voice might be low, but it’s unforgiving.

  When my shaking registers with Milo, a small frown forms on his forehead. He rubs the side of my body with both of his hands.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” his tone immediately changes to something more gentle. “Shhh, Raven. I am not going to hurt you.”

  One of his hands wrap around my middle, the other starts to stroke my hair. He doesn’t say anything more. Instead, every so often Milo kisses my temple.

  I still can’t formulate words. I have never frozen up like this before.

  Minutes pass. Milo starts talking, this time in an even more soothing voice.

  “I am not angry. You just can’t talk to him anymore, that’s all. I told you that.”

  “You have me. You don’t need him. You have to forget about him, okay?”

  “I didn’t mean to scare you, baby.”

  “Shhh, don’t be scared.”

  “Take all the time you need. I am right here.”

  “I am not going anywhere.”

  The trembling starts to subside with each one of his mollifying word. The oxygen is finally pouring freely inside of me.

  Every time I breathe, I take in Milo’s musky scent. It smells like Xanax with one breath and then morphs into horror with the next. Sometimes, it’s a mixture of both.

  In the end, the villain in my book, the antagonist who is causing this anxiety, is also the one to alleviate me of it. It’s ironic in every way.

  Milo doesn’t budge after pacifying me. As soon as it registers that I have stopped shaking, he drops kisses all over my face.

  Keeping me in his tight embrace, he slowly sucks on my bottom lip. He gently licks my lip with his tongue before moving inside my mouth.

  He holds the side of my face firmly and keeps stroking my tongue till my head starts to spin.

  I am out of breath, and my brain is out of power by the time his fingers come into play.

  His soothing words turn dirty as he tells me how wet I am. Arousal from panic is another shock to be digested, but I restart my struggle all the same. I can't help wondering if the visual in front of me is real or if it's in my mind.

  Despite my thrashing, Milo holds me against the wall with easy effort and undoes the knot of my robe.

  He opens up the robe enough to free my breasts, which feels more exposed than taking the robe off completely.

  I don’t notice him undoing his own belt and pants. I don’t notice when he lifts me by my thighs either and slipping inside me with minimal resistance.

  “You are already close,” he breathes around my breast before sucking on my nipple.

  I am shocked when I realize that he is right.

  In between kisses, Milo continues to comfort me. “It’s okay, baby,” he keeps saying over and over. “You are okay.”

  He leans in closer, his rhythm still reverently slow and gentle. I suck in a breath when his fingers drop between us. When he tells me that I am his, my body lets go before my mind does.

  “God,” I dig my nails into his shoulders and feel my whole body clench.

  “There, baby,” he murmurs as his hands roam over my bare chest, gently pinching the hardened nipple between his fingers. I feel Milo’s cum on my thighs before I hear him roar.

  By the time he pulls out, carries me to the tub, and lowers me into it, I can’t meet his eyes.

  I am trying to wrap my mind around what the hell just happened between us.

  Last night there was some fight left in me. Today, I went from panic to arousal to completion. It seems too unreal.

  Milo simply keeps stroking my hair while I lean back in the tub. “Do you need anything?”

  I stare at him in disbelief and simply shake my head.

  “Okay, come downstairs after you are done,” he whispers.

  With a final kiss on my temple, he leaves and strides out of the bathroom.

  I try to retreat inside my own safe place.

  -----------

  I am showered, changed, and I have finally snapped out of my shock. I make my way downstairs for the second time this morning.

  While soaking in that tub, my determination to change this situation has came back with full force.

  There is no point in trying to convince our families of our relationship status or asking Milo to tell them the truth. It doesn’t matter what they think.

  We are both adults.

  I need to take charge and step up my game. After this brunch, I am going to tell our families that there is nothing going on between us. Plain and simple.

  Thankfully, the brunch itself is a hit and it's a great distraction from my previous shock.

  The food is delicious. Our dads are telling us stories from their childhood. Their banter and teasing bring about nostalgia from my own childhood with the Sinclair siblings.

  Milo even eggs on our dads to participate in a drinking game. Not to be outdone by the younger generation, our dads start chugging drinks as we cheer them on.

  Tessa does her own cheerleading routine for Uncle Reese. After all of these years, it’s odd to see her so content. Her on and off battle with depression has been an almost two-decade fight. But her recent treatment has done wonders for her. Watching her fills me with hope.

  My parents also seem to be in the same happy boat. After a few hours of day drinking, Dad declares that we need music, and we are turning this brunch into a dance party.

  He clears out a portion of the dining room, sets up the Bluetooth speaker, and grabs my mother for a dance. Mia and I giggle at his horrible moves as he tries to keep up with her.

  Since I can’t exactly dance, Mia dances alongside me from our seats. We even perform a choreographed routine that we had made up in Paris.

  Despite Reid’s absence and what just happened this morning, I am surprised at how content I feel to be around my whole family after all these years. It’s a sense of belonging that we have all been deprived of.

  With my family around, even this haunted house from my nightmares is camouflaged as a semi-okay dream.

  I spend the rest of the afternoon cramming in as much quality family time as possible, surprised at how naturally we all still fit in with each other.

  Soon, I wander into the kitchen, looking for a clean glass. I have just opened the cabinet when I hear hysterical screaming coming from the dining room.

  “What the fuck!” I turn towards the sound and limp my way back to the dining room.

  I have barely entered the room when I find Tessa surrounded by a herd.

  My parents are screaming and shrieking from the scene in front of them, while Uncle Reese is calmly taking charge.

  I exchange a quick, knowing look with Milo and Mia. They have the same thought as I do.

  None of our other drama matters anymore. Not Milo’s lust-crazed sociopathic behavior. Not Raven’s strange panic from earlier today. Not even the devastated, missing Sinclair.

  The only thing that matters is this scene in front of us before things progress for the worse.

  CHAPTER 3

  Eight Days Later

  -----------

  Milo

  “I don’t understand. Where are we?” Raven looks around.

  “We are at my condo,” I gesture towards the open living room.

  Rave’s recovery process has been slow. The journey to our recovery, even slower. I can admit to that part being my fault.

  However, Raven’s recovery was sidetracked when Tessa started spiraling again. Tessa had a full-on side effect from her prescription drugs. It was… bad, to say the least. It’s the most extreme side effect she has ever had.

  Almost overnight, Tessa went off her meds and reverted back to her old self who stays withdrawn in her room.

  When we finally got in touch with her doctor, he insisted that it was a fluke, and the effects of the medication will dwindle unless we get her to stay on course.

  However, Tessa refuses to take her medication.

  Personally, I don’t pay too much attention to Tessa’s up and down battle. My perspective on Tessa is different. I see her less as a mother and more like a sick relative. I treat her as another item on my chore list.

  Raven and Mia are not quite so jaded. As a result, there is finally a silver lining to this shit. Raven has put aside our differences to stay focused on our Tessa related efforts.

  Today she agreed to tag along with me to a holistic pharmacy. The pharmacy has some alternative options that worked for Tessa the last time she went off her prescribed medication.

  On the way back, I scheduled a detour at my condo, which I “forgot” to mention.

  Raven spins in the middle of the large living room to take in my apartment. She doesn’t give anything away with her expression.

  Maybe I should have made this place more presentable before showing it to her. I can’t tell what she thinks of the place. Does she like it?

  I put down the brown bag from the pharmacy and shove my hands in my pockets. I nervously watch her as she walks through the living room and looks over the large terrace.