Fawn: A Dark Mafia Shifter Romance (Blackfang Barons Book 1)

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Fawn: A Dark Mafia Shifter Romance (Blackfang Barons Book 1) Page 24

by Elaina Jadin


  “I was thirteen,” she continues, nearly spitting the words out. “How was I supposed to do anything but just die with my parents?”

  “But you didn’t die. You lived—so grab that life and run with it.” I punch my fist into my palm, digging for the words that will push her over the edge. As soon as they form in my mind, I hurl them at her with a snarl. “Do you want to be a scared little girl your whole life? Show me that you’re a grown-ass woman who deserves more from life. Fight for yourself, Fawn.”

  She stares at me as I stand before her, my arms wide open, daring her to make a move. “You couldn’t fight the wolves then, but you can now. So fucking fight,” I yell.

  There’s no hesitation from Jemma this time as she swings towards me. It’s easy enough for me to pull my head back, her fist flying past my face and throwing her off balance. I grab her wrist, yanking her off the damn couch, and she shrieks with rage, kicking and punching me with abandon.

  Her strikes are untrained, but what she lacks in skill, she makes up in fury.

  I toss her away from me and she scowls, looking like an angry wolf, baring her teeth, the long split in her elegant dress revealing her strong legs as she plants her feet in a charging position. I cock my head as though I’m not impressed in the least, and that’s invitation enough for Jemma to launch herself at me again.

  Capturing her against my chest, I lift her off the ground and her knees dig into either side of my waist. She’s armfuls of wrath and sorrow, crying as much as yelling as she struggles against my hold.

  “Let me go, you bastard!” she demands, her fists pummeling relentlessly against my chest and shoulders, her knuckles becoming streaked with traces of dried blood from my bare skin.

  I press her closer to me. “Make me,” I growl against her neck before blazing a hot trail up to her ear with my tongue and teeth.

  She shudders against me, her breath fiery as it washes across my cheek, and my blood goes to my shaft. For a moment I think she’s done fighting as she leans into my tight embrace, and I’m ready to throw her on the couch and really set her body on fire.

  Then she shoves against me with all her might, screeching with rage. It’s a sound that’s nearly animalistic—and enticing as hell. Her nails dig into my chest, scratching so hard I can feel her drawing blood.

  I move, slamming her against the wall, pinning her there with my hips, scraping my teeth against the bare skin of her shoulder. Her pussy is rubbing against me and there’s no way she can’t feel how turned on I am.

  “That’s it, Fawn,” I punctuate my words with a grind of my hips, pressing my hardness against her. I can feel how fucking hot she is, how her arousal is growing even as her anger still dominates. “You wanted to fight? Then fight me.”

  She bucks against me, and her hands clasp around my throat, trying to choke me. But her small grasp can’t even encircle my neck.

  Trying a different tactic, she rolls her body, arching back as she uses the strength she’s earned from years of dancing. Her neck and shoulders against the wall, she pushes her hips against me with a furious grunt and brings a leg up, bracing a foot against my hip and using the leverage to shove her way out of my arms.

  I let her go, knowing she needs to earn this victory, and she runs to the other side of the room before turning to face me. She’s breathing strenuously, her eyes glued to mine, and we slowly circle one another, like Nikolai and I did in the ring.

  I could put her down in seconds, wring her life from her body before she knew what was happening. She is small prey compared to my inner beast, after all. But she’s got teeth tonight, and I intend to let her bite.

  She runs, her feet propelling her forward with surprising speed as she throws herself at me again. Her body slams into me, her arms wrapping around my neck, and I let her take me to the ground this time.

  My hands move to her hips as she straddles me. There’s no hiding the thick bulge straining against my shorts. I know she can feel how stiff and swollen I am, how much I want her.

  Jemma’s hair is wild, her eyes practically feral as she braces her hands on my bare chest and rotates her pelvis on top of me. I grind against her, lifting us both up as I do, and she slaps me hard across the face.

  “Stop. Fucking. Moving,” she grunts out between clenched teeth, her expression a mix of fury and desire.

  My cheek burns with the delicious heat of her strike, and I hold my breath with a devilish grin as she rocks against me, panting harder.

  Then she pivots, shifting a knee off me as she tears at my shorts, tugging them down until my cock is free and standing at attention. Without an ounce of modesty, she reaches under her dress and wiggles until she has her panties slid off.

  Then she pulls her dress up as she kneels over me once more. A second later, she lowers her hips, impaling herself on me.

  “Fuck,” I hiss as her tight heat envelops me, my back arching at the intense pleasure, and my head slams against the floor.

  “Shut up,” she demands, slapping a hand over my mouth.

  I groan under her fingers as she sinks down further, my length throbbing inside her. Then she drags her nails harshly down my chest, burning lines etch into my skin, and I dig my fingers into her waist, urging her to take all of me.

  She’s so damn wet and slick, her pussy grips me as though we’re locked together. I buck my hips, driving into her hard, making her gasp. Her eyes go closed and her mouth parts as I repeat the movement, and she shivers with pleasure.

  I reach up, tearing at the plunging neckline of her dress until it rips, revealing her breasts. Propping myself with one hand, I lean up, capturing a nipple between my teeth.

  Jemma hisses at the pain and grabs a fistful of my hair, yanking me away only to pull me back a moment later. I suck one breast and then the other as she holds me to her. My scalp burns from her savage grip, and it’s so fucking good.

  She’s riding me with a thunderous ferocity now, making me groan as I lick and bite her nipples. Her thighs are clamped against me, her breath coming in heavy pants, and her pussy is fluttering around my cock.

  I know she’s so close to the edge.

  But I’m not finished with her.

  Grabbing her other hand from where it’s braced on my shoulder, I twist, flipping her over with lightning precision, pinning her beneath me.

  “Not going to be that easy,” I murmur against the delicate skin of her throat before biting down.

  She’ll have marks and bruises, but that’s the point. She may wear Draven’s red ribbon on her arm, but I want the taste of her flesh on my tongue as I leave my own red motif. If I hadn’t slaked the thirst of my wolf with a savage battle in the ring, she’d be receiving my true mark tonight.

  Jemma cries out as my teeth sink into her skin again, her heels scrambling to find purchase against the floor as she tries to push me off her. Even as she pushes against me though, her hands run down my back to grab my ass, holding me against her.

  She relaxes, her legs cradling my hips, and I thrust into her sharply, making her arch against the floor, her breasts pressing into me. “I told you to fight, Fawn. Don’t give up now.”

  Her eyes meet mine and she buries a hand in my hair as our mouths clash. Our kisses are teeth and tongue, more spiteful bites than anything tender. She bucks up, pressing my length deep inside her, and I grind down, wrapping one arm under her knee to change the angle.

  She’s still fighting, her nails scratching, her fists pushing and pulling against me, even as she moans into my mouth with every sharp thrust of my hips. I lean back onto my knees, pulling my mouth away from hers and put her other leg over my arm, lifting her until only her shoulders and head are on the floor, the skirt of her dress falling down over her stomach.

  The only sound in the room is our breathing, her tortured moans mingling with my deep groans and the sound of our bodies slapping together as I pound into her rough and fast.

  Her eyes never leave mine as I fuck her, and I watch her face soften and then tense
over and over, her pupils growing wide until there’s only a thin ring of her amber irises. Reaching my arm around her thigh, I pinch her swollen clit and she thrashes against me, but I don’t release her.

  Instead, I thrust harder, moving her against the floor, her hair spreading out around her shoulders

  Her eyes close, but she’s digging her fingers into my arms, her mouth open in silent cries as she fights back the orgasm, unwilling to relent to me. She’s got blood smeared across her lips and cheeks, sweat glistening on her skin, and my cock buried inside her—she’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.

  I know the moment her body gives up the fight. Her pussy clenches around me like a vice, her back arching, and her thighs bear down as she shoves her hips against me. She lets out a long, wordless keen as her body vibrates.

  Her heartbeat throbs in her neck, and I hunch over her, grinding my length into her as I bite down hard on her throat, fighting myself to stop short of drawing blood.

  She cries out in pain, but doesn’t pull away, her hands finding purchase in my hair, twisting and pulling. The sweet and salty taste of her skin and the strong pulse of her veins under my lips push me over the edge.

  Searing heat gathers in my core before exploding through every nerve. I pull out of her at the very last moment, lacing white ropes onto her soft stomach, my wolf howling inside me as I deny us both the ecstasy of spilling inside her.

  I lean over her, drawing ragged breaths as her hands smooth across my shoulders and down my arms. When the danger has passed, I ease back into her once more, still hard as steel and needing the intimate warmth she offers.

  I can’t get enough of her, pressing kisses to every bite mark on her fair skin as I roll her on top of me. Jemma holds onto me, her hands running circles over my chest, her legs tangling with mine. Her pussy still flutters around my shaft, and I grind gently against her. Her quiet moan is so sweet I do it again.

  We lay there, clinging to each other on the floor as our hearts find a slower, unhurried rhythm. She nudges me with her chin, and I tilt my face upward, capturing her swollen lips with my own. The fury is gone from both of us, and our kisses are filled with relief and gratitude as we move against each other with a languid delirium.

  I lose sense of time as I hold her. All I know is the feeling of her body curled against mine, her hands holding me to her, the taste of her tears against my tongue, her tight heat keeping me hard inside her, and the gentle weight of her thighs around my hips. It’s as if we can’t get close enough as we writhe and grind against each other, our need renewed.

  Her soft moans grow more urgent, and then she tenses, her body clutching to me as she comes again, her lips parting with a sweet gasp that I swallow greedily. I grip her ass, holding her tight against me, grinding myself into her until I’ve drawn out every ounce of her pleasure.

  Jemma’s heartbeat slows as she curls on top of me, her head on my chest, and I run my hands through her hair, letting the long, soft strands caress my fingers. It’s quiet between us, the sounds of the arena a distant white noise. Nothing matters but this moment.

  “Kade?” Her voice is timid, her bravado gone.

  “Yes, Fawn?” I murmur, my lips pressed to her forehead.

  “I don’t want to be a victim. I don’t want to repeat the same day, over and over again,” she tells me, her voice wavering. “I want to live—to feel alive, like I do right now. I want to be a survivor.”

  I tug her hair, making her look at me. “You are a survivor,” I tell her with a low growl in my tone. “You just need to find your strength.”

  Jemma shakes her head and swallows hard, tears shining in her eyes. “But how?”

  She’s looking at me with such trust that it makes my chest ache more than any punch an opponent could ever deliver in the ring. I hold her face, rubbing my thumbs over her tear-stained cheeks.

  “Stay with us,” I tell her, pressing my fingers into her flesh, a snarl of possession on my breath. “Fully surrender to us.”

  She studies me, her eyes searching mine. “What do you mean?”

  “Let us take you apart completely. Let us utterly destroy you until there’s nothing left but your beauty and your strength,” I say, sliding my hands into her hair, grasping firm handfuls of it.

  There’s a light of hope in her eyes, as though I’m offering to be her savior. It makes me curl my fingers tight against her scalp. She draws in a sharp breath with a wince, but I need her to understand that this is no refuge. I need her to feel the true depth of my offer, the unforgiving brutality of it.

  “It’ll be hell,” I tell her, a sharp edge in my voice as I share the harsh truth I know from experience. “There will be moments when it feels like you’re breaking apart at the seams. You’ll either emerge victorious, or shatter into oblivion. But either way, you’ll never be a victim again.”

  Her gaze is fixed on me, her body still. She has hardly any reason to trust us, and yet I see her mind whirling behind those deep honeyed eyes, her instincts battling logic as she weighs my proposal.

  I wait, holding my breath. If she says no… if she tries to flee from us when the agreement is up, I’ll have no choice but to chase her. The wolf demands it.

  “Okay,” she answers in a whisper barely above the sound of a breath. Then she lays her head on my chest once more, her body pliant and soft.

  I wrap my arms around her, and my eyes fall closed, relief coursing through me.

  27

  Draven

  She tests my control even when she’s not next to me. I could feel the questioning stares of the audience the night before, and I wanted to growl and challenge them all for daring to look at her. That fierce possessiveness over a female—a human of all things—is disconcerting.

  I refused to look at her most of the evening, but I was aware of every single breath she took.

  And when she began to dissolve into panic, when she couldn’t obey me, rather than pushing her to her knees and punishing her—I gave in. I sent her away because she needed that more than I needed her to submit to me.

  The car ride home was infuriating. She and Kade smelled of each other so strongly it choked the air from my lungs. It was all I could do not to tell Nio to pull over so I could order Kade out of the car. I wanted to beat the ever-loving shit out of him.

  How dare he enjoy her after I’d sent her away and denied myself of her company?

  The moment we returned to our compound, I flew inside, hiding away in my personal suite. The only rooms I have that don’t smell of her. Yet the absence of her drives me just as insane. I want to enjoy her in every way, fill my world with her scent, with her touch.

  It is exactly that reason I must push her away. Let Kade and Bishop enjoy her, taste every inch of her. Hell, parade her in front of the entire pack. They are not the apex alpha of the Blackfang Barons. If they show momentary weakness, it will not threaten to undo this empire.

  My life has been branded with a different standard, one I cannot fail without endangering everything I’ve built.

  I’ve given in to her needs once, unable to bring myself to discipline her. I won’t again. If I let my restraint slip, she could easily become my greatest distraction. And that would give my enemies the upper hand.

  Miri, the grandmother of our pack if there ever was one, brings me breakfast in my office. Since Bishop has claimed the enjoyment of feeding our fawn, I’ve taken to dining alone. I tell them it’s because of business, that there’s too much going on for me to take a break.

  In truth, I have to abstain from her for the next twenty-five days. The less I’m around her, the better. This agreement has turned from an opportunity of pleasure into a trial of self-torture.

  Bryan may have found my Achille’s heel with this trade. Jemma is his trojan horse, and I allowed him to deliver her right into my office. I should have snapped his neck at the club—killed him for failing to repay his debts and been done with it.

  “All that stress isn’t good for you,” Miri cluc
ks at me as she sets a lunch tray on the edge of my desk.

  She’s the only one I allow to mother me. Not even my own mother—a fierce alpha in her own right—fusses over me the way Miri does. But the woman’s been in our pack for so long there’s practically no other choice.

  I have no doubt she’ll outlive us all and go on to nurture several more generations of Barons. She’s never had a family of her own, and quickly adopted Bishop and Kade as though they were her own brood. Eventually she gathered me into her circle, too, despite my resistance.

  “I’m fine,” I assure her, as always. For longer than I can remember, she’s been fussing over me, and I’ve been waving off her concerns, even when it’s clear I’m not fine at all.

  “Mmhmm. That girl has you all tied up in knots,” she says, pouring coffee into a mug before adding a splash of heavy cream, as I prefer.

  I take the coffee from her, barely offering her a glance. She can read me better than anyone, and I should know better than to argue, but I’m not in the mood to admit how far down the rabbit hole this wolf has fallen.

  “It’s not her—” I start.

  “Oh, pfft,” she interrupts me, something hardly anyone dares to do, and plops down in one of the chairs across from me. “You may convince the rest of the pack that she’s just another one of your passing fancies, but I know you.”

  Even on her tiptoes, she barely comes up to my shoulder, and she’s a fraction of my weight, but whenever she points her finger at me, I feel myself sitting straighter and tamping down an urge to say yes, ma’am.

  “That may be true,” I speak low, not quite a growl. “But until I decide what happens, I’d better not hear that you’ve been spreading tales. I’ve yet to decide if we would be better off without her.”

  She purses her lips with disapproval and narrows her eyes at me. God, I hate getting that look from her. “You can debate it all you want, but you damn well already know the answer to that, Draven Kildare.”

 

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