No Broken Beast

by Snow, Nicole

  It’s pressing so hard against his boxers, leaving a wet stain of pre-come.

  Inhaling sharply, I drag the fabric down, baring its thickness.

  Leo smells musky, earthy, hot, and tastes the same. I brush my lips over the head, opening wide to take him in. He snarls, holding still, grinding out a warning.

  “Rissa!”

  And I feel like a vixen.

  I only smile, and murmur, “Be good for me.”

  Right before I take him into my mouth again.

  Oh, he’s too big for me. He’s always too big.

  I’ve always known it, too, but I can’t resist trying anyway, working my mouth over the head until it’s slick, and my lips stretch a little more with every attempt.

  More slow thunder builds in his throat. He snaps his hands out, gripping the headboard behind him, his entire body going rock-hard with the effort to stay still.

  “Babe...babe, fuck, I’m gonna—”

  I know. And that’s why I suck him harder, until he starts to bend.

  I shouldn’t love torturing him like this.

  But I love knowing he still responds to me, and that I can still make him grit his teeth and clench his jaw in just that way as his cock bucks, spurting against my lips.

  His seed floods out, hotter than magma, thick ropes overflowing my mouth.

  One seething inch at a time, I force myself to swallow him.

  My mouth hurts, but I don’t care. I love his taste, his throbbing on my tongue, his growl getting harder, thicker, meaner by the second.

  I love how he’s always ready for me.

  All it ever takes is one touch, and I can get him so hard he’s raging, ready in seconds.

  Like I’m any better.

  Tonight, he hasn’t even laid a hand on me, and I’m already so wet my panties are film against my skin, slipping into my folds.

  I almost want to touch myself.

  But waiting makes it better, the pulsing want louder, aching deeper and deeper.

  I devote myself completely to worshiping his cock. I don’t think he ever even goes soft before he’s rock-hard again.

  Those little sounds I love in the back of his throat come faster, hotter. Again and again, I let him pump my mouth. He tosses his head back, straining, breaths coming fast as he whispers in a sharp snarl.

  “Rissa.”

  I know that urgency. I know that heat, and I pull back quickly, shaking my head.

  “Not yet,” I say. “Not without me.”

  I push myself up on my knees, stripping away the rest of my clothes.

  Then I mount him for all I’m worth.

  Just like that, I hold myself above him, poised with his cock almost touching me, spearing up and ready to impale me.

  Our eyes lock.

  I press my fingers to his lips.

  He kisses them, watching me so I feel like a thing of beauty, a work of art, something fairy-tale perfect like nothing he’s ever seen before.

  It’s flipping glorious.

  And it makes me wild as I slowly shift down.

  My pussy’s so ready for him I hardly feel the shock that comes from his size—but I savor it anyway, drawing it out, hanging on to that heady feeling this awareness of every last sensation that’s so different from the wild storms we’ve had in the past.

  This is something more.

  Something intense.

  Something captured in one crystal clear second after another.

  Something meant to savor.

  So I take my sweet time bringing us together, stretching my body, accepting every inch of him one at a time as he pulls me open, fills me, buries so deep.

  The entire time, our eyes never part.

  It’s like we’re joined by the same invisible thread that’s kept us together across miles and years, unbreakable and bright.

  My breath hitches tight in my throat as our bodies press flush, the fullness inside me so heavy as I seat him fully inside me.

  Capturing his face in my palms, I kiss him, a soft I love you on my lips that I can’t say.

  But it feels like the same thing is in his growly tone as he wraps his arms around my waist, arching my spine against him, crushing my breasts between us, and kisses me like madness.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says against my mouth. “All these years, and you’ve never stopped being beautiful.”

  I want to tell him he’s beautiful, too.

  That who he is now is the same as what he’s always been.

  Now he just wears his wild and passion and animalism on the outside.

  But I’m too tangled up for words.

  Too caught up in him as I begin to move.

  It’s slow, deep, almost like I’m following the rhythm of our hearts, rocking my hips to the beat of some unseen drum that’s always guided us.

  It’s pleasure. It’s passion. It’s beauty. It’s pain.

  It’s perfection, every single time that thick, steely cock grinds so deep inside me. He sets off a thousand tiny explosions, endless cascading sparks.

  How did I ever live so long without this?

  How’d I survive without him?

  Right now, he’s everything I need to stay sane.

  Everything I need to keep me strong while I fight to save my sister’s life.

  Me and Leo.

  Together.

  Just like old times.

  Just like we’ll be again.

  And just like the moment, as that slow, steady collision of thrusts and gliding strokes and raw pleasure sweeps us up together, takes its hold, and drops us on our heads.

  We’re tearing at each other when we find our release. We meet and mate and explode together in some mystic place, lips tangled together in teeth and tongue and steaming breath.

  We’ve been strangers for too long.

  Tonight, we’re just two stars in our very own universe, combusting and collapsing together.

  * * *

  Leo looks downright pale by the time we sink down on the bed.

  I won’t lie.

  I’m a little proud of myself.

  But also embarrassed as hell, considering I just jumped a man who’s half-dead from blood loss. I’m only exaggerating a little.

  He collapses against the sheets, staring up at the ceiling before letting out an exhausted laugh.

  “Okay, you win, babe,” he grunts out. “I’ll stay the hell in bed.”

  “Good.” I burrow under the covers, snuggling against him. “Don’t try to get out again.”

  “Shit, I don’t know...that gonna happen every time I try?”

  “Leo.” I slap his chest, and he chuckles, draping one tired arm around me.

  “Okay. I was being unreasonable. Let’s blame the blood loss.”

  “I don’t think any of us are being reasonable right now. Or sane. There’s just...so much.” I shake my head, nuzzling at his shoulder. “All the bad memories, new fears, worries. We’re having to count time in minutes and hours and days while Deanna lives by the second because we’re so helpless.”

  “I know.” He lets out a soothing rumble, his fingers trailing over my back in soft caresses. “But we know now he’s desperate. Nash will throw down his cards in the open. We’ll find a way to use that to our advantage, Rissa. I promise.”

  “I believe you,” I whisper, kissing his shoulder.

  And I do.

  Other people make false promises. Other people lie, change their minds, double back, cheat, pretend. Other people pretend to be good, hiding the demons under their skin.

  Not my Leo.

  This unbreakable beast might have his secrets and a short fuse, but the only promise he couldn’t keep wasn’t under his control. I know that now. He’ll keep the new ones he’s making as well as he keeps his secrets.

  There’s more happening under the surface as I lay my cheek against his shoulder, breathing him in, wondering how I’ll ever get a hold on my love for him. Because he’s giving me faith, more reason to believe, every s
ingle day.

  There’s no question.

  I trust Leo Regis with my life, with my sister’s, and with our son’s.

  20

  Switchback (Nine)

  I think she’s trying to kill me.

  Honestly, if I’m gonna go like this, balls deep in my Rissa, I wouldn’t mind an early grave.

  It’s hard enough staying buckled down for a few days to rest. Can’t even get up to take a goddamn piss on my own without her yelling at me to get back in bed.

  If I don’t?

  I end up on my back with her gorgeous legs straddled over me, moving in sweet, sexy ripples that make her flesh flow like honey.

  Her body’s different now.

  I’d heard having a kid changes a woman, but I’d never seen it till I took her in the light, watched her moving over me, her tits heavy and full with a weight that makes my gut tighten as I sink my fingers into her flesh and knead them.

  Her hips are just as lush, just as thick, her hourglass thighs gripping me with all her softness. Her belly has a delicious rounded swell that strokes my hard muscle every time she grinds her hips over my cock and loses herself in the frenzy, gasping as she practically uses my dick to pleasure herself.

  Fuck.

  It’s real damn hard to recover my red blood cells when she’s draining me dry of certain white cells every chance she gets.

  But she’s found one way to make me stay in bed, all right.

  I’m not in any real danger, frolicking with her like this. Don’t know how to make her get how easy I can heal.

  It’s what I was made for.

  To be dropped in a combat zone and keep taking hits no matter how hard they come, this unstoppable juggernaut who could keep killing like an angry bear even while he’s bleeding out.

  When my adrenaline’s up, I don’t even feel the pain.

  But she’s not wrong, either. Rest helps any man who’s been stabbed, even a human freak like me.

  Hell, at this rate, she’s gonna spoil me.

  By day four, though, she’s finally let me up—and lets me put on more besides my boxers.

  Mainly because we’ve got company bringing word.

  The news isn’t good.

  I can tell even before Warren opens his mouth.

  I limp out to the kitchen and drop down at the table, favoring my bad leg. We’ve sent Zach over with Derek to the big house, giving us freedom to talk. Clarissa, Blake, Warren, and fucking Fuchsia are gathered around, everyone but the witch at the table. Fuchsia has pulled herself up to sit on the kitchen island like some kind of goth demon pixie, looking down on us from her perch.

  God, I really hate that woman.

  Warren makes a frustrated growl under his breath, then runs a hand through his thick crop of dark hair. “We found the marker,” he says. “But it was empty. Freshly dug up.”

  I look at him. “Shit. He must’ve forced her to give it up.”

  “That means she’s still alive,” Blake says.

  “For now,” Fuchsia throws in merrily, and I snarl in the back of my throat.

  “You’re not fucking helping.” Under the table, I reach for Rissa’s hand and squeeze it tight.

  She’s pale, lifting her head to look at me, her eyes a little too wide. “Would Nash be able to figure out the code?”

  “If I can figure it out, so can he,” I tell her reluctantly. “Assume that anything I can do, he can do just as well. Maybe better, considering he’s willing to go to extremes I won’t.”

  She clutches my fingers. “Then what reason does he have to keep her alive, now that he can follow the trail on his own?”

  “That’s where I come in,” Fuchsia says. “We already have enough information to make things very, very uncomfortable for Galentron. Maybe not to prosecute, but we can completely eviscerate their stock value and make their shareholders jump ship. They’d lose so much money they’d have no choice but to fold into chaos.” She shrugs, almost chirpy. “I don’t care if they rot in jail or in a cardboard box in an alley, as long as they rot.”

  Warren stares at her oddly. “Lady, what did they do to get you so mad?”

  “Fired her without her 401K,” I mutter, and Fuchsia flings me a deadly look.

  “Yours isn’t the only life they ruined,” she hisses. “You have no idea what they took from me.”

  “Didn’t know you had enough heart to care about losing anything. Do you mean that lump of coal in your chest actually feels something?”

  The stare Fuchsia gives me is seething, dark.

  Human.

  And I realize she’s serious.

  Underneath that cold, murderous, flippant exterior is a woman in agony.

  I doubt she’ll ever tell me what Galentron took from her.

  What part of her life they ripped to shreds and left in tatters at her feet because that’s what they do to everyone.

  But now I get her determination to thrash them by any means. Her hunger for payback.

  It’s not so different from mine, even if I’d like to think my mission’s more noble.

  I look away. No use in prodding her anymore. “Okay, Fuchsia. Talk. What’s your ace in the hole?”

  “Public access radio,” she answers simply, with a heavy look for Blake.

  Blake goes pale.

  “Why are you all looking at me like that?” He darts me a nervous look. “Buddy, why’s she looking at me like that?”

  “Because that’s how cats look at mice before they eat them,” I mutter. “Fuchsia, you’ll have to clarify.”

  “It turns out your little Podunk radio station actually gets quite a bit of air coverage. It gets picked up by larger stations and their towers a few miles away, and then beamed not just across the Pacific Northwest, but straight through the Dakotas into a good-sized chunk of the Midwest.” She arches a brow. “Enough coverage that if we do a radio tell-all show...too many people would hear it to sweep everything under the rug. Plus, every boring shock-jock with a mic in his teeth gets archived everywhere online these days. There’d be no stopping it.”

  Rissa scowls. “You really won’t be happy until you get to put on your song and dance, will you?”

  Fuchsia points a manicured finger at her. “Watch your tone, little girl, or no candy for you.” She sniffs. “Don’t you get it? We let a few things slip so burning little ears carry it back to Nash. Let him know we’re preparing for something. Something that would mean his mission failed, and his handlers won’t be happy with him.”

  I’m there almost before she finishes speaking. “Meaning he has to keep Deanna alive longer because she’s his leverage over us.”

  “Look at you, using that super-brain!” Fuchsia smirks. “And we’ll lure him out. He’ll be more open, more direct. No more sniper fire. Whatever he does will be big, drastic...and it’ll leave him totally exposed.”

  “And possibly a lot of people dead,” Warren says slowly. “From what you’ve said, he’s not above causing a hell of a lot of collateral damage to get his damn objective.”

  “Then it’s a good thing we’ve got our own Nighthawk to play superhero to the people, isn’t it?” Fuchsia purrs.

  Blake frowns. “Nighthawk?”

  “It’s a long story.” I sigh, curling my fist against the table. “Look, it’s a crazy goddamn plan, but it’s the best we’ve got. The only other option is staying hot on his trail, and since we don’t know how many cache sites there are, that might give us twenty more chances or it might give us two. We need to head this off at the pass. Before he has time to do something wild or call in reinforcements.”

  Fuchsia shivers her shoulders mockingly. “Imagine a strike team storming this tiny little town and wiping it off the face of the earth.”

  Clarissa fixes her with a venomous look. “I swear, I’ll make you eat your own ludicrously expensive heels.”

  “Try it, candy girl. I’ll snap your neck before you can blink.”

  “Enough,” I snarl. “We’ll try Fuchsia’s plan. Blake, can y
ou get her on the radio?”

  Blake looks uncomfortable but nods. “Yeah. Maybe even do a few promo spots, you know, promising a big show on Halloween with an explosive ending, so everybody and their dog tunes in.”

  “I do love a flair for the dramatic,” Fuchsia interjects, pursing her lips.

  Warren, though, has been oddly quiet, a strange expression on his face.

  I study him for a minute, tilting my head. “Warren? Something on your mind?”

  He shakes his head. “Something about this doesn’t add up. If they can put all this to bed by sweeping the town and killing everyone, why haven’t they yet?”

  “Because there’s still something here that they want,” Fuchsia says, her flat-grey eyes fixed knowingly on me.

  I recoil. “No. No. What do they need me for? They had that fucking cat for their vaccine—”

  “And feline antibodies aren’t human antibodies.” She’s firm, that lilting edge still there but no longer toying with me. “I’m fairly certain Nash’s secondary mission here is to capture you, Leo. You’re still the only known carrier of SP-73 viral antibodies. You could be very useful in the wrong hands.”

  “Any hands are the wrong hands,” I growl. “Don’t want anyone else using my blood to cook up vaccines for their soldiers any more than I want Galentron doing it.”

  Now it’s Clarissa’s turn to squeeze my hand, but it’s only some small comfort. I can’t help but think if Nash is also after me, he might just see Rissa as extra leverage.

  “How do we make sure they can’t use SP-73 anywhere ever again?” I ask. “We got it out of Heart’s Edge, but fuck. Who knows where they’re scheming it up now.”

  Fuchsia shrugs. It’s oddly listless. Her mask is slipping, letting the human being out.

  “We make them accountable,” she says. “Expose them to the light like the vampires they are and watch them shrivel up and die.”

  “But couldn’t the virus just fall into someone else’s hands?” Clarissa asks softly. “Couldn’t it just disappear into some government agency until they find another contractor willing to do their dirty work?”

  The entire table goes silent, full of grim possibilities.

  Then I say, “Doing nothing when we could do something isn’t an option. Doesn’t matter what might happen down the road. We have to do whatever we can now.”