Crowned Crows of Thorne Point: A Dark New Adult Romantic Suspense

by Veronica Eden

  There’s a folder on my computer with half-started ideas, but I’ve never finished anything until now. The accomplishment threw me more off balance—journalism is the major I’ve hacked away at because I want to be like Ethan and he encouraged me to pursue it. I’m not a fiction author.

  My hurried steps skid to a halt in the entrance hall. Wren is covered in blood, his eyes overtaken by cruelness. The brutality of who he is in the fight ring bleeds into every measured breath he takes. His gaze captures mine. It makes my heart stutter when the cruelness doesn’t fade entirely, but blends with possessiveness.

  “Is that your blood?” I whisper.

  “No.” The word is a feral growl.

  Heat throbs between my legs. I don’t understand why his darkness and violence calls to me, but I’ve stopped attempting to analyze why I’m wet at the sight of him drenched in enough blood that I’m sure someone is dead.

  I’m not afraid.

  I’m not revolted.

  All I see when I look at him is someone I can’t walk away from. In a short time we’ve become locked together, every sinister layer of his world dragging me deeper into its depths.

  Wren passes me and I follow all the way to the bathroom, fixated on the ripple and flex of his powerful muscles as he strips out of the ruined clothes. Dizzy, I swallow at his sculpted body. Blood soaked through what he was wearing, coating his skin.

  Steam fills the room when he starts the shower. His eyes flick to me for a beat before he steps into the large open design. Water sluices over his dirty skin and he scrapes his fingers through his hair, ducking beneath the spray. The water runs red, some of it splashing on my feet from how close I stand to watch.

  “What did you do?” I ask.

  Wren turns to face me, expression unyielding. His cock hardens under my gaze and my breathing grows heavy.

  “I fixed it.”

  My heart pounds hard. If he fixed it, that means the man who followed me is gone. I’m not naïve enough to think it means everything is over—someone still went through the trouble of bugging the apartment—but the ardent way he studies me pierces into my chest and doesn’t let me go.

  One of his hands clamps around the back of my neck and drags me into the shower. I close my eyes against the water and a moan escapes me when he kisses me, mouth hard and unrelenting as he devours me. Our movements become possessed with need. He peels off my drenched camisole while I push off my sleep shorts, the soaking wet clothes plopping on the floor forgotten while he hooks a hand beneath my thigh and lifts. My legs wrap around his waist and he braces my back against the wall, captivated by the sight of his cock sinking into my pussy.

  My entire body aches with arousal, even with his cock filling, stretching my body to fit him. A wicked hunger fills me and I need him to sate it.

  We fuck with the blood of another man still running off his body. It’s messed up and heady. Tinged with a forbidden air that crackles with the frantic rhythm he sets. He buries his face in my neck and bites down hard enough that it rips scream from me.

  “Don’t stop,” I beg.

  Gritting his teeth, he grips my ass with bruising force and picks up the pace of his thrusts. The pleasure becomes too much. My nails dig into his shoulders when I fall apart. With a hoarse noise, he pulls out, right there with me as his come smears the back of my thigh and my ass.

  My body is wrung out. He doesn’t let me down on my trembling legs, keeping me in his embrace. I can feel the steady drum of his heart against my breasts pressed to his chest. We don’t move until we’re no longer panting and the water runs clear, free of the blood on his hands.

  Wren is a killer, but so am I. The dark shards of our souls fit together.

  Twenty-Three

  Rowan

  By the following night, I’ve stewed long enough in the opulent penthouse. I never want to see these walls or that hideous gargoyle statue near the windows again.

  Levi confirmed I was free to go when he arrived with detailed lecture notes and my assignments for the day. Wren put me through a week of hell and even after the intense passion that happened between us last night, I want some retribution for treating me like I’m fragile.

  I’m not Wren’s motherfucking princess to lock up in a tower and I’ll make sure he never forgets it.

  It’s Friday and for the first time ever, the Crow’s Nest nightclub is where I plan to be. When I texted Isla she FaceTimed me immediately to scream her head off in excitement before she arrived.

  She helps me dress up, armed with the perfect little black dress and heels with thin velvet ankle straps. I might not dress up often, but the confidence is undeniable as I check myself in the mirror. The short hemline kisses my thighs just below my ass and the low-cut neckline highlights my cleavage.

  “Jesus, you knockout,” Isla praises from behind me.

  “Yeah?”

  “Definitely.” She fans herself. “You rock the grunge chick look, but all the fire emojis for you in this, babe.”

  Before we go, I spare myself one last look, fluffing my hair. The corner of my mouth curls up in satisfaction.

  “Let’s do this.”

  The ride from downtown out to the cliffside at the coast is charged, Levi gripping the wheel of his SUV while Isla chatters and flips radio stations. More than once his brooding gaze studies her in the rearview mirror. I smirk, turning out the window. Those two are complete opposites.

  Much like the first night I came here desperate for help and answers, the hypnotic music, smoky atmosphere, and flashing lights fill the decayed ballroom of the Crow’s Nest Hotel. The room is packed with people dancing and drinking. It’s an alluring kind of chaos.

  “Go get him. I’ll be over there.” Isla kisses my cheek and points to the bar. She grabs Levi by one of his hoodie strings. “I’m borrowing you.”

  They make an amusing picture as she drags him after her. I’m surprised he went willingly, but glad someone will guard her. No one will try anything while a Crowned Crow is with her.

  I spot Colton on the dance floor with Fox and Maisy, the three of them laughing.

  Weaving through the crowd, I make my way to the raised platform at the back. Wren is alone on his vintage throne when I reach it, lost in his thoughts. He’s not as put together tonight. Instead of a full tailored suit he wears only a buttoned shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black slacks. Our eyes lock. This time I don’t pause at the base to plead my case, climbing the dais until I walk into the space between his spread knees.

  Tilting my head coyly, I clasp my arms behind my back and wait while he takes me in. His gaze smolders. The only other time he’s seen me dressed up is the night of the gala. Slowly, he leans forward, wrapping his arms around my legs. One hand caresses my calf while the other creeps up the back of my thigh, teasing beneath the hem of the tight dress.

  Wren pulls me down for a kiss. I indulge him for a minute, then push back out of his reach.

  “Don’t touch.”

  His cool, cunning eyes flash at the direct challenge. “I told you what would happen if you played games with me, little kitten.”

  I lift a brow, retreating a step. His smirk is lethal as he unfolds himself from his wingback chair, following me through the hazy ballroom. People part for us, some gaping. Rumor has it the King Crow never comes off the dais.

  No matter which direction I go, he’s close behind. Tracking me. Hunting me.

  I pick a spot to dance and he stands there, hands in his pockets, watching with a hooded leer. I move to the music, dancing for him, tempting him to touch me. The tip of his tongue swipes over his lip in a slow arc. My nipples harden and an ache throbs between my legs. Not yet.

  This is a revenge seduction.

  The tension between us pricks at my skin like tiny shocks of electricity, heightening the anticipation of what we both know is coming. This is war—whoever breaks first loses.

  “Do you know what this place is?” Wren asks without taking his eyes off the sway of my hips.

/>   I shake my head.

  “It was once the finest hotel in New England at the height of its time.” He shifts closer, the space almost nonexistent between us. I can feel the heat of him at my back, his breath fanning over my neck when I pull my hair to one side. “When it closed, it fell into disrepair. It was condemned, scheduled to be sold and demolished. I saw something else, though. So I bought it.”

  “A crumbling, creepy old estate perfect for scaring the hell out of people while you hang out in the grime?”

  “An escape,” he rasps against my ear. “A dark fantasy come to life.”

  It rings true. I didn’t see it before the first time I came here, or when I avoided this place, but now, with his hands hovering over my hips, the beat of the music vibrating through me, and every part of me begging for him to give in and touch me, I understand.

  Shit, I might be the one to crack. My imagination runs wild with lust as I think of the possibilities, the kind of debauchery we could give our bodies over to in this atmosphere. It’s sensual and spellbinding.

  Before my resolve shatters, I whirl around, narrowing my eyes. “If you want me, you have to make a deal.”

  He matches his expression to mine. “You know the price if you want me to do something. A secret or a favor. Give up something that hurts.”

  “I already did, King Crow,” I reply in a steely tone. “A week in your penthouse as your captive.”

  “For your protection,” he grits out.

  Something tightens in my chest at his conviction to take care of me.

  Filled with determination, I straighten my spine. “I’m not your delicate toy. Never lock me away again or I’ll steal one of Levi’s knives and stab you in your sleep.”

  A muscle jumps in his jaw and fire blazes in his eyes. He doesn’t answer, but he breaks first, taking my hand to lead me to a shadowy corner of the club blocked behind the remains of a half wall. It’s chillier at the edge of the room away from the people dancing, but Wren’s body heat seeps through the back of my dress when he tugs me against him. I tip my head back on his shoulder and close my eyes at the hard length of him digging into my ass.

  “Enough games,” he growls before biting my ear. “This is what you do to me.”

  I hiss, clenching my thighs together. He pries them open with a chiding noise and runs his fingers up my inner thigh, dangerously close to my aching pussy. Another inch and he’ll find out I’m not wearing underwear.

  “I want you to writhe for me, you goddamn cocktease.” His chest rumbles with devious humor when he reaches higher and finds me wet and bare. He glides his touch through my slickness and rubs my clit at a torturous pace. “My naughty little kitten.”

  “Make me come.”

  “Filthy girl.”

  Wren stops touching me and my needy protest is silenced by his fingertips prodding my lips. I open and feel the satisfied curve of his mouth against my cheek as he strokes my tongue, the taste of myself hot and illicit as he makes me suck his fingers clean.

  “You want to come in front of a room full of people that have no idea I’m taking you apart in the shadows? They won’t be able to see if I make you get on your knees and fuck your face, or if I peel this sexy little dress up and fuck you right here while they’re none the wiser—well, unless you scream loud enough.” At my strangled cry, he presses a gravelly chuckle into my neck. Sagging into him, my eyelashes flutter and my stomach dips. “Fuck, why are you so perfect?”

  Taking his wet fingers from my mouth he growls and presses two of them into my pussy. I arch, gasping, forgetting where we are for a moment while he pumps in and out in the exact way to light me up and bring me to the brink.

  “Oh god,” I choke.

  “Like that, baby?”

  My lips part as my orgasm builds. I rock against his hand, grinding my clit to the pulsing beat of the music.

  “Not yet,” he rumbles abruptly, pulling free. He shushes my whimper at being denied pleasure when I was so close and licks the taste of me from his fingertips. “You’re going to come with my cock buried inside you.”

  The clink of his belt is almost inaudible and he tugs at the dress roughly until my ass is exposed. Tingles rush over my skin in excitement at how wrong this is. A condom wrapper drops to the ground and I reach back to hold onto him for balance as his cock teases my folds. It’s madness, but I can’t stop how much I want him right now.

  Wren whispers dirty encouragement in my ear while his touch roams everywhere, forcing the dress higher. The red lights flash, adding to the immoral atmosphere. We’re shrouded by foggy smoke and hidden in the shadows behind the half wall while we fuck. Only he and I know that anyone might look over and see us.

  “You’re so fucking wet.” He fists my hair, angling my head to brush his lips over the side of my face. “Every time I pull out your pussy soaks me when I sink back into it. Feel it? You love this, dirty girl. It’s how I know you’re fucking mine.”

  I feel full with each thrust, biting my lip to stifle my moans as he buries his cock in my pussy, obscured in a dark corner of his crowded estate hotel-turned-nightclub while people get lost in the revelry of partying.

  He grabs my jaw. “Don’t you dare hold back. Give me every goddamn sound.”

  The order is punctuated by his cock driving into me sharply. I reach blindly, nails clawing at any part of him I grab onto as I moan. My heartbeat thrums and my skin flushes with scorching fire.

  “Look at them, Rowan. Watch.” My eyes open, struggling to focus when he’s pounding the spot that makes me see stars with brutal precision. As he speaks, he shoves a hand down the neckline of the dress and pinches my nipple. “See how they’re wild with abandon? They give themselves over to it completely. I love the power of control, and here I get to control all of their surrender because I gave them this place.”

  He groans when I clench around him as I look at the drunken dancers basking in the hedonism the nightclub offers. He rewards me by circling his fingers on my clit. In my head, I imagine the people looking at us fucking in the shadows and pleasure ripples through me.

  “Yes. Let go for me,” Wren commands, holding my throat.

  The pressure he squeezes with isn’t enough to cut off my air completely, but it sends another erotic thrill to my core. He slams into me and it sends me over the edge in a wave of ecstasy.

  “Oh god,” I whimper, sagging against him.

  Grunting, he supports my weight while I tremble from my orgasm. He holds my hips in a bruising, white-knuckled grip and with another low groan, his cock throbs inside me. Panting he drops his forehead against my hair, flattening his palm over my stomach. He allows himself a moment while I’m still delirious from coming so hard. I’m vaguely aware of him pulling out, fixing my dress so I’m covered, and the condom dropping to the dusty ground.

  It’s only with him I get this euphoric release where I don’t have to hide from the darkness swirling in me. His own darkness is right there to catch me.

  Wren presses me into the wall, caging me between his arms. He captures my lips in a sultry kiss that leaves me breathless when he puts enough space between us to hold my gaze. He grasps my jaw and tilts my head up, speaking fiercely.

  “There is nothing fragile about you. It’s in your eyes.” He kisses me once more, swallowing my startled exhale. “Don’t ever fucking forget it.”

  Twenty-Four

  Wren

  Eliminating the immediate threat doesn’t mean more aren’t on the horizon. It’s become a growing concern, an impossible instinct to ignore. But I also know locking Rowan up was only a temporary solution. My little fighter won’t stand for that again. The primal side of me wants to do it anyway to control her safety.

  The threat she served up last night made up my mind. She needs to learn to protect herself.

  Her taut ass captivates me in a tight pair of jeans on the way up the wooded path from where we parked. No one but me, my family, and my best friends know my grandmother bought more land than she knew wh
at to do with. The shooting range I had built lies at the top of the hill. Further south is the only part of the property I allow people on—the Crow’s Nest. Not far off is my real house that I use when I’m not crashing at the Nest or using the penthouse for business purposes and appearances.

  The temptation to bring her to it and show her my sanctuary is strong.

  Slipping a hand in my jacket pocket, I run my thumb over Charlotte’s locket and consider how Rowan continues to sneak past my defenses. She’s more than business, more than an enticing fuck, more than the intriguing woman who holds my attention. Somehow she’s become important to me—a rare occurrence when I trust few people in this world.

  She strays from the path to explore and I follow, twigs crunching under my boots. “Keep moving, kitten.”

  Rowan tightens her ponytail after I tug on it and picks her way back to the path. “When you said dress in warm layers, I gotta admit, I didn’t think it meant hiking the cliffside. I’ve never looked at you and thought outdoorsy type.”

  A smirk curves my mouth. “You’d be correct. This isn’t a random public stretch of wooded cliffside, though. It’s my property.”

  She darts a look over her shoulder, pausing from taking a photo of the Maine coastline painted in autumn colors with her phone. “Of course it is. I don’t even know why I’m surprised. You ooze money. Did you inherit it or something?”

  “Or something.” The day I bought my great-grandmother’s sprawling estate is a point of pride. My father and grandfather only saw a barren failure they wanted to liquidate while I saw possibility. Between Colton’s cryptocurrency investments, our income stream, and aggressive financial strategies, we built the foundations of our own legacy, allowing me to purchase it. “And we’re not out here for a hike.”

  Rowan’s expression turns mischievous and she cants her hip to lean against a tree. “I’m into it, but don’t strip me naked. It’s too cold and I’m not a fan of bugs crawling all over me when I’m clothed, let alone with my tits hanging out. Like, if my choice was middle of the woods sex or car sex—both uncomfortable and inconvenient—I’d rather ride your dick in your cramped Aston Martin just so I could laugh about how you even fit your giant-sized everything in there.”