Strangers of the Night

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Strangers of the Night Page 22

by Megan Hart


  “Hurt me,” Phoenix said.

  She dug deeper. She would leave marks. She would bring blood. He didn’t protest; in fact, his cock swelled, thicker and harder and going a sweet, dusky shade of red that pushed a soft moan from her throat. He groaned when she softened her touch and bent to press a kiss to the gouges.

  She let her mouth drift over his hip, where she bit him. Slowly at first. Then harder. He cried out, something between a prayer and a curse, and she laughed as she let go and sat up to look at him.

  “We could be interrupted,” she murmured.

  Phoenix’s gaze had already gone a little starry, but he smiled. “Yeah. At any moment.”

  “What might they think, whoever shows up? Seeing us naked. Fucking.” She dipped her head again, this time to fasten her teeth to the tender inside of his thigh. She took the tiniest bit of flesh between her teeth, knowing it would hurt worse than a larger bite. She nipped, hard.

  He strained upward, not bucking. “Oh...damn... I don’t care what they think.”

  “No?” She licked the spot she’d bitten. “Me neither.”

  In truth, she wasn’t one to crave an audience, but the thought that someone might find them this way did strangely excite her. Someone seeing her with this power over him. Of him giving in to her.

  Of watching her bring him to the edge.

  She stroked his cock, watching his face as he lifted his hips to her touch. “There are so many pretty ways to hurt you, Phoenix. I hardly know where to start.”

  “Please start,” he said.

  She laughed, but it turned into a half-sobbing sound at the sight of him pushing himself into her fist. None of the men she’d been with had moved her the way Phoenix did. She didn’t want to think about why. She didn’t want to consider what he’d said in the diner, that she was different to him than anyone else had ever been. She could not let herself even contemplate that perhaps he was different to her than anyone else, too.

  There weren’t any toys or tool to use, but she had her teeth and pinching fingers; she had her hands. She worked him all over, watching the glorious way his skin went pink and then red beneath her touch. His cock, too. Slick, sweet precome leaked from the head of it, and she used that to circle a fingertip on his cock head while he gasped and groaned.

  “Sometimes,” Willa said, “pleasure can hurt, too.”

  She began to tease him. She took his cock into her mouth and sucked, stroking his balls. Her other hand on the shaft. He was pumping inside her mouth in a minute or so. She withdrew, laughing at his groan of frustration.

  When she straddled him and took him into her, he put his hands on her hips at once. His cock felt so good, deep inside her, that she almost let herself ride him hard but stopped herself to go slow, achingly slow. Up. Down. Grinding her hips. Any time he started to act as though he were getting close, she stopped to feel the pulse and throb of him inside her. She dug her nails into his chest, leaving a pattern of half-moon marks that filled in with crimson.

  She didn’t think she was going to get off this way. She needed more pressure on her clit. Still, it aroused her to watch the way his eyes went glazed, his mouth lax. How he groaned each time her touch cut into him. When she raked him with her nails, leaving a long swath of marks, she thought she’d tipped him over.

  “No,” Willa said and gripped his chin to force him to look at her. “Don’t you come.”

  Phoenix breathed out. Grinned. “No.”

  Again she began to move, letting her clit rub along the ridges of his belly muscles and the crinkling hair there. The pressure wasn’t quite enough. She tantalized herself. Then she lost herself in the slowly building pleasure. Her head fell back. She rocked on him.

  “Oh, yes, fuck, yes,” she breathed. Her knees pressed his hips. As her desire mounted, again and again she dug her nails into his skin.

  She opened her eyes to see him watching her, his gaze sharp now. Focused. He’d begun lifting his hips in time to the grinding of hers. The motion pressed her clit just right, and although she hadn’t expected it, she was getting closer and closer. This, this, this, she thought, incapable of saying it aloud. Wordless noises slipped out of her. They worked together.

  “Don’t,” she managed to say.

  “No,” Phoenix murmured.

  She stopped worrying that he was going to get there before her. She let herself move. Minutes passed, desire building in breathtaking increments. She eased to the edge of orgasm and didn’t go over; she could have touched her clit or ordered him to, but this was too delicious to stop. Tension coiled inside her. Her thighs began to shake. She became aware that she was saying his name under her breath, her voice almost pleading, but for what she couldn’t be sure. Everything was going tight inside her. Her clit was swollen, hard, brushing him every time she moved. Her ass clenched. When he cried out, she realized she’d again drawn blood from the smooth skin right over his hips.

  Willa’s eyes wanted to close so she could give herself up to this pleasure, but she forced herself to look at him. Everything else in the room had faded away, a nimbus of light surrounding them. The headboard creaked in a steady pattern that sounded like music.

  She moved faster. Harder. She no longer thought about needing an extra touch on her clit—the throb of his cock inside her was enough. Oh, it was so much better than enough. Her hands pressed his chest, feeling the tight muscles of his pecs. She pinched his nipples, hard, twisting them, and at his hoarse shout she almost went over.

  She had to kiss him. His mouth on hers, tongues stroking, the clash of their teeth. She bit his lower lip, and he fucked upward so hard and deep inside her that she cried out in pain, not caring even though it was the giving and not receiving of it that got her off. This was sweet agony, a counterpoint to the rising, throbbing tide of ecstasy inside her.

  She could think of nothing else.

  She could do nothing but ride him.

  Closer and closer, she spun, until there was nothing that could keep her from this. She pushed upward on his chest so she could look into his eyes. His mouth was open and she could not stop herself from spitting into it, then kissing him; she could not stop from biting his tongue the way she had two nights ago. His muffled shout was another push toward the edge. Kissing, kissing, kissing hard enough to bruise, she rocked on him so hard the entire bed moved along the floor.

  She came so hard she could not draw breath. She tried, shaking, but could only cry out, long and low and guttural. Her orgasm went on and on, waves of it rushing over her only to crash back.

  “Come for me,” Willa demanded without the breath even to speak.

  Somehow, despite that, Phoenix heard her. She actually felt him swell and throb inside her. Felt the flood of him jetting inside her. Heat and slickness kept her moving, writhing on him to get her clit pressed harder on his stomach and sending another wave of contractions through her. She couldn’t tell if she were coming again or if her first climax simply had not ended. All she knew was in this moment there was only pleasure.

  Only Phoenix, only him.

  Chapter 9

  Phoenix was so hard he wasn’t sure he was even going to come until her breathless command pushed him over. Then he wasn’t sure he was ever going to stop.

  Shaking, he let himself go. Blinded, deafened, the sound of blood whooshing in his ears, he was sure he would pass out from the rush. His tongue ached from her teeth; it was too much and not enough. He could never get enough. Not of this, not of pain. Not of her.

  Then he could think of nothing but this. When he could focus and breathe, he became aware that Willa had fallen forward to press her face against his neck. Her knees pressed his sides, making him notice the sting from the places she’d scoured with her nails. It sent another throb through his cock, which had not quite softened yet.

  “Oh my god,” she said int
o his ear. “I can’t move.”

  “Don’t.” He put his arms around her, holding her tight against him.

  She chuckled, perhaps at the syrupy, drunken tone of his voice that should have embarrassed him. Maybe at the echo of the command she’d given him not to come. Either way, her laughter tightened her internal muscles around him in a way that had him shifting a little to push up inside her again.

  “Mmm,” she said.

  After another minute or so, she sat up and disentangled herself from his grip. Sticky, slippery, she slid off him to lie on her back in the lumpy bed. One leg crossed over his so her toes tapped his foot. She turned her face to press a kiss to his shoulder.

  He hadn’t been cold during, but now the chill in the attic was apparent. He twisted to tug up the comforter over both of them. Willa let out a sleepy murmur as he did, and he lifted his head to look down at her. She was smiling, her eyes closed, her breath puffing out of her lips. Falling asleep.

  He was not much of a cuddler, especially not after sex, but right now he couldn’t make himself move. He tucked the comforter around her shoulder and shifted her a little bit so that she would have more of the pillow. His arm was going to fall asleep, he thought as he stared up at the ceiling. He should get up and clean off. There were plenty of other beds to use here—he could use one of them. There was no need for him to sleep with her, not even for a few minutes. Certainly not for the night.

  Yet somehow, without knowing quite why or how, that was exactly what he found himself doing.

  * * *

  Willa woke to the sound of a woman’s voice. It took her half a minute to struggle up from dreams before she was conscious enough to realize where she was. She still didn’t know who was speaking, not at first, but the woman standing with her hands on her hips at the foot of the bed could only be Phoenix’s sister.

  “What is wrong with you?” she cried, gesturing at Phoenix. To Willa, she said, “Hey. Sorry about the interruption.”

  Phoenix got out of bed, apparently not caring if he scandalized his sister, who turned with a roll of her eyes. He grabbed his clothes from the floor and started getting dressed. “How’d you know it was me?”

  “I wasn’t sure, I was just assigned to come here and get whoever it was,” she said. “Maybe Vadim knew.”

  Phoenix’s lip curled.

  The woman ignored him and looked at Willa. “He probably did. I’m Persephone, by the way.”

  “Willa.”

  Willa had clutched the blanket to her chest and now took advantage of the semiprivacy to pull her own clothes on. She’d fallen asleep in a weird position, and her neck creaked. She’d also fallen asleep sated and sticky, she remembered with a glance over her shoulder, but now was cold.

  “A shower would be nice,” Phoenix said. “Don’t guess we have time for one.”

  Persephone snorted. “Sure. Let me just wait while you take your time, brother mine.”

  “I’m sure Willa wouldn’t mind one, either,” Phoenix said mildly.

  Persephone looked startled and cast Willa a curious glance. “Right...you’re right. Of course. Do you need some time?”

  Both of them must have reeked of sex, but Willa shook her head after a second’s look toward Phoenix. He had no expression at all. “I can be ready to go. Where are we going?”

  “I’m supposed to take you someplace safe,” Persephone said. “I mean, safer than this. Phoenix, shit. You’re coming with me? Really?”

  His sister had crossed to him now that he was dressed. She didn’t hug him, but she took him by the front of the shirt until he looked at her. Phoenix shrugged.

  Persephone looked at Willa. “Who are you?”

  “She’s a librarian,” Phoenix said in a slightly mocking tone. “She’s just along for the ride. She got caught up in it without knowing what she was in for.”

  Willa paused before answering. “Right... I got caught up in this, that’s all it is.”

  If Persephone wondered what was going on between them, she didn’t show it. Probably, Willa thought, Phoenix’s sister was used to stumbling across him in bed with women she didn’t know, who meant nothing to him, who’d merely been caught up in whatever tragedies he was going through at the time.

  “I’m so glad to see you,” Persephone said to him.

  Phoenix waved a hand. “You don’t have to get all gooey about it.”

  “I’m not...” Persephone stopped herself and gave Willa a look. “What’s been going on? He won’t tell me. He’ll be a smart-ass about it.”

  “Wyrmwood,” Willa said.

  “Oh, shit.” Persephone gave her brother a startled look. “You called me on an unsecured line?”

  Phoenix said nothing but pushed past her and went down the stairs, leaving the women alone in the attic. Willa finished pulling on her sweatshirt. Persephone gave an awkward laugh.

  “Wow,” she said.

  “It’s been an interesting few days,” Willa answered.

  “I bet. So...listen, you’re welcome to come with us, of course. Vadim will take care of you, make sure you’re okay. I’m sorry you got caught up in this... How did you get caught up in it, anyway?”

  “He was my neighbor,” Willa said. “I just brought him dinner.”

  There’d been so much more to it than that, she thought, although apparently it hadn’t meant so much to him. It shouldn’t mean anything to her, actually, this fuckery her life had now become because she’d allowed the aching in her soul to lead her next door with a casserole and a bottle of wine. She’d screwed up in the past, for sure, but this had turned out to be an epic mistake.

  “If he...” Again, Persephone trailed off, clearing her throat. “Look, if you think that you’ve been coerced or anything, in any way...”

  “No,” Willa said sharply. “Definitely not. Anything I’ve done has been totally my choice.”

  Persephone didn’t look convinced. “Because my brother can—”

  “I know what he can do.” She had not been so sure she believed it, really, not even with all the proof he’d shown her. She wasn’t sure, to be honest, that he had not in fact influenced her. He was right about what he’d said. She would never trust him.

  “Did he tell you?”

  “We should go,” she said, which wasn’t the answer to Persephone’s question but the only one she gave.

  * * *

  Being in this room was like being tossed into a pit full of fire ants. Phoenix continually felt the sting of them crawling on his skin. The prick and tingle of constant anxiety.

  “Stop pacing,” Persephone snapped. “God, brother, it’s like you think someone’s going to do something awful to you.”

  He swiveled on one foot to look at her. “Like they won’t?”

  “They won’t. I promise you. What will it take until you can believe me?” She looked so sad it ought to have made him feel sad, too, that he’d caused her distress.

  He didn’t. He felt on edge. Ready to roar. He wanted out of here. So why, then, had he not simply walked away, the way Vadim had sworn he would be able to? Why had he suffered the somewhat invasive medical exam that he knew had been meant to catalog everything about him so they could use it to their own purposes? The Crew might not be as nefarious as Wyrmwood, but that didn’t mean he would ever trust them.

  Why was he still here?

  “Look,” he said stiffly. “I can see you’re happy here. With what’s-his-name.”

  “Kane,” Persephone said. “And you knew that.”

  Again, he should have felt like the asshole he knew he was being. “Whatever. You’re happy here. You like playing gofer for that guy, good for you.”

  “It doesn’t have to be like that. There’s so much else you’d be good at.”

  Phoenix frowned and went to the small counter
of the kitchenette. He couldn’t complain about the accommodations, that was for sure. The food wasn’t as good as the dinner Willa had cooked for him, but it was all right.

  “Willa’s thinking about it,” Persephone told him. “Vadim said he could use help with the library system.”

  Phoenix turned. “And she said yes?”

  “She said she’d think about it, I guess. She’s not completely convinced about a lot of the stuff she’d be cataloging, but she said she was still able to put it in order, keep the collection organized. Vadim said it was okay if she’s skeptical. He said we need some people who still need to be convinced, now and then.”

  “I don’t need to be convinced. I just don’t want to hang around here. I’m going to get back on the road soon.” He said it without conviction. The thought of leaving here, hitting the streets, finding a new place to live, dealing with more people he’d have to influence and manipulate...suddenly he felt too tired to deal with it. “Soon.”

  “You haven’t even listened to Vadim. He would absolutely set you up in something that works for you. I don’t know why you’re so against it.”

  “You don’t have to understand,” he told her. “You just need to accept it. Accept me, sister mine. We are not the same person. Never were, never will be.”

  He’d stung her, he saw that. Persephone frowned and shrugged. She got off the chair and went to the door.

  “Please don’t leave without saying goodbye, that’s all. And at least let us set you up with encrypted phones so you can call me every so often. Okay? Can you at least do that for me? I miss you, brother mine, when you’re not around. I worry about you.”

  He looked up at that. “You know I can take care of myself.”

  “I know you can. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know where you are or what you’re doing.”

  “Fine,” he said. “I’ll try.”

  She closed the door behind her with a soft click, and he opened the fridge to dig around inside and see what might make a decent meal. Most people staying in the Crew’s Pennsylvania location ate communal meals in the cafeteria, but you could order limited groceries to be delivered from the commissary if you preferred to eat in your room. Phoenix didn’t want to go out and deal with the hassle of talking to other people, but this room, as nicely furnished and full of amenities as it was, still felt too much like a prison cell.

 

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