Deny Me: A Paranormal Romance (Legends of the Ashwood Institute Book 2)

by Jayla Kane

  “Fucking gross, Keller,” he said, so revolted by the very idea that I laughed out loud at his comically horrified expression.

  “What?”

  “First of all: fuck no, I never had a girlfriend. And second of all, I may be a piece of shit, but that? That is way beyond even my considerable abilities.” He raised his eyebrow at me, a smile tugging at his lips. “That’s twisted, Keller.”

  “Whatever,” I said, raising my own eyebrow in return. “You would know. Anyway,” I continued, ignoring the protest that was about to come out of his full lips, “it’s just a… A regular dream? One you had before?”

  “Yes,” he said, returning to his distractingly sexy pose against the headboard.

  “So the events weren’t real?”

  “Obviously,” he told me, a cloud crossing over his face. He watched me look at him and sighed. “I told you—I think my brain just concocted all that to torture me. To show me, over and over, what I could have had with you. And what I took from you, especially—just being able to walk down the fucking hall without somebody hissing at you, or sit at a lunch table with other people, for Christ’s sake. It’s all an elaborate judgment on me,” he said shrugging, “and I deserve it. It’s just a dream.”

  “But you hated me,” I said, baffled, and he shrugged; I felt him shoving his thoughts down deep again, burying something so far inside of his mind he would feel me if I started to dig for it. And I wouldn’t. He’d tell me if he wanted to. “Why would you… Why would you do that to yourself?” Our eyes met, and I saw him trying to rebuild his shield for a moment before he suddenly knocked it down himself, felt the grave in the darkness of his mind yawn open once more, the hidden thoughts flashing through his mind once more.

  “Fuck it, you’re going to see all this shit sooner or later. Raven, look,” he said, leaning towards me, “I love you. I love you more than anything. I always have, and I always knew I did, even when I was doing everything in my power to make your life hell. That’s all there is to it—that’s the answer to any question you have about why I did this or do that. That’s it. That’s always the answer.”

  I stared numbly at him for a long, drawn out moment, then swallowed, my throat full of salt. “I told you, you’re shit at groveling.” I tried to crack a smile, to add some levity to the moment, but I couldn’t.

  “You’re right,” he said softly, and then, to my shock, he reached forward and drew me against his chest, forcing my face towards his, our eyes locked. I felt his hardness slide beneath me again, our damp bellies pressed against one another, and shivered. Jake wrapped long fingers through the hair at the nape of my neck, pressing our foreheads together as his other arm tightened around my waist. “I’m shit at groveling. I have no use for guilt. I don’t naturally tend to feel shame. I think it’s useless. And that’s what someone has to feel if they want to grovel.” His voice lowered to a growl, fierce and tender at the same time as his lips came nearer to mine, the hunger in his eyes unveiled, no shield to keep his need from me. “So I don’t grovel. I adore. I cherish. I worship. I love you, Raven. I am yours, and I am devoted to you—I know that can be a poison. But that’s me. And I’m yours, for better or worse. Always.”

  Last night wasn’t a fluke.

  Nothing was a fluke. Jake wasn’t pretending when he demanded my loyalty, when he hated me, or when he kissed me so sweetly it brought tears to my eyes. He wasn’t pretending when he spoke those words last night, a spell of his own making, an incantation so powerful it ended in an explosion of his gift.

  “I will never expect anything from you. And I will never, ever hurt you again, Raven, never,” he whispered. “But it’s exhausting to keep trying to hide how badly I need you. Because I do. I love you, Raven.”

  Always, he’d said. Until I die, and beyond.

  I realized I believed him.

  And I wanted him too.

  I wasn’t ready to pledge my undying fidelity to him, not like he had with me—my name was already written in blood somewhere beneath his, and I had a lot of fucking baggage to work through. And forgiving him was something I would have to do over and over again, because… He was right. He wasn’t any fucking good at groveling.

  But if he kept loving me like this, I would keep forgiving him.

  Because I loved him too.

  I raised my body slightly in the air and reached down, gripping the slippery base of his cock so I could hold him steady; Jake didn’t move an inch, not at all, letting me slide him inside with a gasp as his thick heat spread me open and filled me up. I sat astride him and we gazed into one another’s eyes, the fire behind me suddenly brighter, and then I rolled my hips—just a tiny bit. Just a fraction of an inch. His eye lashes fluttered, and I felt him tense inside of me—“Oh!” He smiled at my involuntary exclamation and then joined me, our bodies moving in tandem, slow and steady, as the snow began falling once more.

  Jake ran his hands over me, and I took my own shield down—disintegrated it in one blast, seeking his touch. Warmth, reassuring and sweet, spread through my entire body as he stroked my skin, his rough fingers exploring the muscles of my back, my belly and ass, and when his mouth landed on my shoulder it felt like a ray of sunlight. Love, I realized—that’s what that feeling was. It wasn’t just because of the magic between the Sineater and the Magi; it was because as a telepath, I could absorb his feelings, the thoughts and images inside of his mind when he touched me… And reflect them back, because they were my own. Because I loved him every bit as much as he loved me.

  Jake read my thoughts and lifted his lips to mine. I steadied myself against the headboard with my arms, propping my body up and sealing him inside of my embrace at the same time, my forearms on either side of his head; he slipped pillows beneath my knees to give me leverage, and then I was able to ride him. I was tentative at first, slow; his love poured into me, his kisses draping my body with a rash of heat as he filled me from within, and I came wordlessly on his shaft, surprised by the sudden explosion in my body. He stroked my breasts with his hands, teasing my nipples as he leaned back and watched me work; his eyes were lidded, lips parted, and very carefully, when I came down from my first orgasm—or second, really—he moved his hips a fraction inside of me. My whole body rippled with pleasure.

  “I didn’t know you’d like it like this,” he whispered. His fingers tightened on my nipples as he watched me rock on him, my clit swollen, my body damp.

  “I didn’t either,” I breathed, then leaned in to kiss him. He nuzzled my throat, licking my jawline before he sank into my mouth.

  Jake reached behind his head and wrapped his strong hands around my wrists, pinning them to the headboard. “Do you want to stay slow?”

  “I don’t know,” I whispered, and he pumped into me, once, hard. I moaned from the sudden increase in pressure, my body bursting with sensation. He held me fast.

  “I like it slow,” he whispered, then nipped my earlobe. “But I like the sounds you make when I fuck you hard.”

  “I like it hard,” I murmured, my eyes closed; Jake slammed into me from below again, and I had to rest my head on his shoulder to keep my balance. “Jake—”

  “Yes, baby?” He was still beneath me, nibbling my ear; I could hear the lazy tease in his voice, and leaned back to look at his expression.

  He was absolutely delicious. A single bead of sweat ran down from his temple; his smile could tempt the devil. He thrust into me once more, his eyes sharpening on my face as he drank in my responsive moan, pinned as I was on top of him. “Jake! Please—”

  I didn’t even know what the end of my sentence was. “Yes?” He prompted, and this time he rolled his hips beneath me, planting a spark at the juncture where we met, where his base rubbed against my ravenous clit. “Rae?”

  “I want it harder,” I said, sucking in a breath and forcing myself to sit upright; my nipples were so hard they ached, and I saw his eyes dilate at the sight of them, vivid red in the sparkling light from the fireplace.

  “Say i
t again,” he commanded, rolling savagely beneath me, my clit fat and peaked, my wrists pinned. I was trapped, at his mercy. It felt amazing.

  “Please fuck me harder,” I begged, and he bit his lip and pumped into me—once, twice, three times, four—over and over—my head rocked on my neck—I was coming, coming so hard tears slipped out from behind my closed eyelids as I screamed his name, my spine clenching with the force he propelled through me from underneath, my whole body a beacon of tight, white heat.

  When I was finally done I was completely flattened against his long torso. He’d let go of my wrists, cradling me against him; I was still straddling him and he was still inside, but I was like a rag doll he held in his arms. When I rolled my head up to look at his face, the expression on it was…

  It was adoring. Wasn’t that what he said? I adore. I cherish.

  I could believe all of it, right now.

  The snow flakes were exquisite, steaming into oblivion every time they touched my burning hot skin; this time he’d managed not to set the bed on fire, and I knew my shield was definitely still down when he grinned at me. My fallen archangel, so beautiful. His gaze softened when he heard that, and he leaned down and kissed my forehead.

  “Maybe you’re a poet too,” he said softly. I strained to sit up and look at him head-on; it took me three tries, but with his help, I was eventually upright in his lap, looking him in the eye. His cock was still buried inside of me, hard as ever.

  “I don’t think so,” I told him. “But I… I do think some pretty poetic things about you.”

  “Limericks, maybe,” he said, and I laughed. “There once was a man from Ashwood, who gave it to me so goo—”

  “Oh my god! Ruined! Totally ruined,” I said, and he chuckled, his face tilted, taking me in, delight on his lips. I reveled in the way he stirred inside of me, the clench of his tight abdomen, gleaming in the firelight.

  “I can’t help it,” Jake said softly. “I love making you laugh like that.” Deep inside of me, his body pulsed. Cherished. Adored. “Exactly,” he confirmed, and I knew my cheeks were red when he stroked them tenderly and leaned in for another kiss. “Can I adore you some more?”

  When he was sweet… My god, it was too much. Too much for me to resist, to even remember that the same low voice curling around my throat, squeezing… Jake paused for a second, waiting to see if he should stop, and I closed my eyes and ran my fingertips over his cheek. I wanted him. Then. Now. He tipped my head back and kissed me again, longer, deeper, then gently moved us onto our sides, his arms controlling my liquid body as he lifted my leg over his hip. His palm slid along the back of my thigh, digging in with his thumb nail so that one white hot line of tension swept my skin, bringing me back to life; when I opened my eyes again, my kiss was savage, and he slipped his hand around my leg and hoisted it over his shoulder, my ankle right by his face. He slowly slid inside further, then faster, and when I broke the kiss, gasping into the air as he picked up speed again, my body swelling with desire, he licked me along the arch of my foot. “Oh!” I clenched in surprised arousal—it tickled, and it was… Strangely possessive. And fucking hot. And then he fucked me so hard I couldn’t even form words—our bodies were a tangle, one of his hands gripping my hair, holding me fast as he filled me ruthlessly from below, his other hand pinning my leg wide open for him, spread so far—I was screaming, sounds I didn’t recognize pouring out of my body as he sucked my lips and grunted into the cavern between my jaw and my collarbone, my body turning into a coil as he filled me… And then I came, so hard, so desperate as I arched into his rough thrusts that I blacked out calling his name.

  I felt him, in the darkness. Even though my body retreated into quiet, my subconscious monitored everything—every murmur as he touched his lips to my skin, rearranging me on the blankets into a peaceful comma, promising in his own mind, over and over again, to protect me, to love me. He didn’t know I could hear him. My reservations hit him hard, but I saw how much he understood—he couldn’t help but want things I couldn’t yet say, but I knew he got it. When my eyes fluttered open, I sighed deeply and rolled over to look at him, and his eyebrows shot up.

  “I thought you’d be out for the rest of the night,” he said softly, and then his expression became distinctly vulpine. “Do we need to do that again?”

  “I can’t,” I said bluntly, rolling the rest of the way, so that we were facing one another. He hesitated to touch me, still remembering my fears, so I reached out for him and was rewarded with instantaneous comfort, waves of it, warm and loving.

  “Why not?” He planted tender kisses along the length of my neck, and I couldn’t help but arch into them; he saw my thoughts and abruptly stopped. “Do you need some ice? Can I—”

  “No, no.” I groaned slightly, but the concern on his face didn’t vanish. “Jake, please don’t even think about it too hard—for all we know Sarah will just show up and hand you an ice pack for my pussy, right here in the middle of the room.”

  “Do you think so?” He arched a brow and cocked his head. “Hey, Sar—”

  “Don’t you fucking dare,” I said, rolling onto my belly and staring at him in feigned horror. He grinned down at me, his hand slipping over to plant itself at the base of my spine, radiating heat and comfort into my worn out body and mind.

  “I wasn’t going to,” he promised. “But I had to pretend, come on. You made it too easy.”

  “You are such a—”

  “Yeah, I know,” he said softly, his eyes reflecting the gold of the fireplace. His face lapsed back into concern, and I rolled my eyes. “Rae, baby, I’m not going to—”

  “Yes you are. Yesterday you fucked me in the ass without a second thought, so I think we can make it through the night without—” Oh shit, I thought, watching his entire face fall. Even his hand cooled on my back. “I shouldn’t have—”

  “Yes you should’ve,” he said quietly. “And you’re absolutely right. I didn’t even think about that.”

  “Because your not-dead brother—”

  “No,” he said, cutting me off. His face was grave, an unfamiliar seriousness I didn’t recognize darkening the shadows around his mouth. “There’s no excuse. Not for most of it—I might get a little lee-way for acting like a fucker when we first stopped talking and I got my panties in a twist. Maybe. But everything else—literally everything… No. If I wasn’t me, I’d kill me.”

  “Okay,” I said, “that’s taking it really fucking far.”

  “Is it?” He tilted his chin and looked into my eyes. “Make no mistake, Raven—if nothing else, at least I know what you deserve. And what I do.” He bit his lip, a portrait of masculine vulnerability. “You’re right, you know. You do cut me too much slack.”

  “And you’re shit at groveling, but this hard-liner penitent act is pretty convincing,” I said. “I just meant that I’m too tired to bathe now. But I will in the morning, I promise—we’re both gross.”

  “So we can shower together?” He raised his eyebrow in mock bravado, and I leaned in to kiss the smile that finally showed up in the corner of his mouth. Jake watched me when I rolled back to my side of the bed, and when I reached out for him again he came closer, laying his face next to mine. We breathed each other’s breath for a minute, the quiet getting louder, and then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him flick his hand. Instantly, everything was dry—the bed, our bodies—and a fine mist was moving through the room, shimmering as it became steam and then slowing flowing out of the open window. He ran his finger down my spine, then put it in his mouth and sucked, his eyes locked on mine. “Salt. Got left behind,” he whispered, kissing my shoulder before moving just far back enough to gaze into my eyes. “I’m still learning, I guess.”

  The bed was dry now; I was comfortable, if not clean.

  And I was loved. His hand rested on my hip, growing heavier as his breathing evened out, and when I finally started to drift off he was waiting for me, inviting me into his dream this time.

  We spent the res
t of the night playing Risk in the library, the dream so real I couldn’t believe we were sharing it, and I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard. Even asleep, I wondered if the house rang with the sound of it, the way it had when we were young.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jake

  I woke up exhausted.

  Completely thrilled, my face aching from smiling so much, my whole body wrung out from one of the best orgasms of my entire life—and totally, absolutely exhausted. “Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to stay up all night playing board games?” I tugged the pillow over my head, rolling onto my stomach, and then smiled into the mattress when I felt delicate hands running over my skin, the warmth that emanated from any exchange of touch between us tunneling through me, finding my heart.

  “It wasn’t me,” she said, and I could hear the yawn in her sentence. I let the pillow move up enough to see her face, peeking out from under it, and we eyed one another.

  “Liar,” I mumbled, but she just grinned at me. It was so lovely to look at that I threw the pillow away and rolled towards her, unable to stop myself. I pulled her closer, nestling her torso against mine, and she let me hold her like that for a whole minute before I could feel the energy in her body change. “Okay. What is it?” I was starting to get used to the fact that I couldn’t count on reading her mind any more, which was odd mostly because of how quickly I’d grown used to being able to; her shield was becoming automatic, a fact I realized when she was able to beat me so many times in Risk. Pretty soon, I’d told her, she’d be able to project false thoughts—misdirecting anyone who dared to poke at her with a similar power—and then I’d be in real shit. She was thrilled by the idea, of course. Beat me again doing exactly that—I fell for it twice before I realized what she was up to, and then I regretted being honest about her potential. She wasn’t just borrowing my anger; she borrowed my deviance too.