American Street Kings: The Complete Series

by Bella J

  “She got kidnapped by a rival crew.”

  “The Pythons?”

  An eyebrow slanted inward. “You know them?”

  “Just like the Kings, everyone knows the Pythons. What did they do to her?”

  He took a deep breath before letting it out with a sigh. “They tortured her.” His eyes bored into mine with caution. “Raped her.”

  I sucked in a breath, my palm closing around my lips.

  “They fucked her up so bad, Wraith. The things they did to her, it’s too horrible to describe. Those sadistic fucks left her for dead, and we didn’t think she’d make it.”

  “The Pythons,” I muttered.

  “Sadistic motherfuckers. But that woman is one of the strongest people I know, and she exceeded all our expectations. But sometimes,” his voice cut off, “sometimes it just gets too much for her, you know?”

  “Oh, my God.” I stumbled back, my heart refusing to listen to what my ears were hearing. “You’re sure it was the Pythons?”

  “Yeah, I’m fucking sure.” He said it like it was obvious, like there was no chance in hell it could have been anyone else. “Our rivalry with the Pythons goes way back. Fuckers killed my dad. They are ruthless motherfuckers, Wraith. You see them riding your way, you head the other direction.”

  I held up a hand, my stomach turned inside out. “I can’t—” I stepped back. “Fuck, I need to go.”

  “What?” He reached for me, but I pulled away. “Why? Wraith, no. Stay. I want you to stay.”

  With a heart that was busy smothering with heavy truth, I looked at him.

  “Please stay with me.”

  It was there, in his eyes, how much he wanted—no, needed me to stay with him. After overhearing the conversation between him and Granite, the way Onyx sounded like a man who carried the lives of others on his shoulders, it was enough to crack through the brick walls I had to build around myself in order to survive the world I had no choice but to live in. The feeling I had in my belly whenever I was around him, the butterflies, I could feel something stronger than pain, stronger than years of torment starting to grow with every flap of their wings. It was scary, and I wasn’t sure how I would get my mind to wrap around it. All I knew was he needed someone to be with him tonight. He needed someone to make him forget the responsibilities he had been saddled with—seemingly against his own will. And, by God, I wanted to be that someone. I wanted to be the woman in whose arms he sought some form of solace. The despondent look on his face, the heaviness he carried that shined through in his eyes, I wanted to make it better. Be the one who gave him the same escape he had managed to give me earlier. Even though I didn’t know how to sort through my thoughts after what I had just heard, the horrors one of his own had gone through because of the…the Pythons. Jesus. I couldn’t even—

  “Wraith,” he reached for my hand, “I can see it in your eyes. You want to run from me again, but something is making you stay.”

  “Onyx—”

  “Just this once. Don’t fucking run.” He placed a hand on my chest. “Listen. Here.” He touched the side of my face, his thumb gently tracing along the top of my eyebrow. “Not here.”

  God. How could I not? How could I not want to stay? “Okay.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Onyx

  I couldn’t describe it. This moment. This space in time. It was like the world stood still when I was with her. Like everything else disappeared, everything bad and broken just didn’t exist. And while she leaned back, so beautifully naked, raven hair splayed over navy blue pillows, I finally realized what perfection was. It wasn’t beauty. It wasn’t diamonds or gold. It was surrender. Her surrender.

  Stalking on my hands and knees, moving over her, staring down, something deep inside my gut told me I would never be the same after this.

  Trust your gut.

  Hovering over her, I dragged a finger along her side, her body trembling. With leisurely circles, I allowed my fingertip to caress her skin, making its way across her chest, around the curve of her breast. Her eyes closed, and she arched her back, relishing my touch, her nipple beading.

  My hand dipped between her breasts, tracing along the most exquisite tattoo I had ever seen. A lotus flower bloomed across her flesh, its open petals decorated with intricate lines and patterns, the faintest shades of pink and green touching the edges. But it was the image below the flower that fascinated me. Shattered glass in the shape of a heart, hanging from the lotus flower by what seemed like rosary beads.

  “What does this mean?” I kept tracing along the inked lines. “Why the glass heart?”

  “All hearts are made from glass, don’t you think? Otherwise, why would it break so easily?”

  My hand traveled back up to the flower. “A symbol of purity.”

  She swallowed. “Detachment.”

  “What?”

  “It’s symbolic for detachment, as drops of water so easily slide off its petals.”

  My gaze locked with hers. “Why do you need to be detached from anything?”

  She bit her bottom lip and turned her face away from mine.

  Gently, I touched her chin, urging her to look at me again. “Why does it feel like I need to—” I swallowed, unsure of the words that burned at the tip of my tongue.

  “Need to what?”

  “I don’t know. It feels like I need to protect you somehow. I can’t explain it. It’s like this gnawing need knocking at my chest.” I met her gaze. “But from what? From what do I need to protect you, Dahlia?”

  The sapphires in her eyes glinted as if unshed tears were threatening to break free. “I love it when you call me Dahlia.”

  Lowering myself on top of her, I nestled my hips between her thighs. A perfect fit. Like I belonged there, like her body had been shaped and molded for me, and me alone.

  With a gentle touch, I brushed a strand of hair from her face before lowering my lips to hers. I kissed her tenderly, my tongue caressing hers in a slow dance of seduction.

  The more we kissed, the harder I pressed my body against hers, loving the way her heat felt against my skin, like it had the power to thaw the ice in my veins. I’d never experienced this before, where I wanted a moment to never end—to go on forever. An infinite moment that would forever define us.

  I reached for her hand, weaving my fingers with hers before bringing it up, pinning it above her head, my body slowly starting to move. I felt her tense beneath me, and she arched her back, pushing her breasts against my chest. My cock was ready, and judging by the soft sounds escaping her lips, I knew she was too. But I wanted to do so much more to her. I wanted to bathe her with kisses, taste and touch her, tease her until her body couldn’t take any more—until she begged me to give her the release she craved more than anything else in this entire fucking world.

  “Onyx,” she started, but I let go of her hands and moved down, peppering her skin with kisses, lapping her flesh as I traveled down her body.

  I lifted her leg, bending at the knee, her inner thigh touching my cheek as I kissed her there. Her hips moved, my lips only inches away from her pussy, already glistening with need, the scent of her arousal threatening my resolve to take my time with her. The way she responded to me, the soft noises of desire that came from her tempting lips, was enough to make me go savage, taunting the animal in me.

  “I really want to take my time with you.”

  “Don’t.”

  “But I want to.” I placed a kiss at the apex of her thighs before tracing my tongue over her outer lips. She reached for my head, fingers gripping my hair, and I could feel her desperation for more, to have me closer. But I wasn’t ready to let her tip over the edge yet.

  Her back arched again, her moans growing louder. “What are you doing?”

  “I want this to last for as long as possible.”

  “Don’t. Just…just do it.” Her thighs clenched.

  “Do what?”

  She lifter her hips, nails clawing at my shoulders as she tried to pu
ll me up. “Fuck me.”

  I stilled. “No. Not tonight.”

  “Yes, tonight. Now.”

  I glanced up. Her face twisted like she was in pain, her legs wrapping around me, trying to pull me harder against her.

  “Dahlia,” I whispered and lifted myself away from her body.

  Her gaze found mine before she turned her head away from me. “Do it, Onyx. You know you want to.”

  “No.” I grabbed her cheeks, forcing her to look at me. “I don’t want to just fuck you.”

  “Then what?” she challenged. “Don’t tell me you want more than just one night of savage fuckery.”

  I narrowed my eyes as I stared at her. “Is that what you think this is to me? A quick fuck and a few-second orgasm?”

  She tried to pull away from my grasp, but I tightened the hold I had, digging my fingers into her cheek. But then it dawned on me. “You’ve never been made love to.” It wasn’t a question.

  The gleam in her eyes told me I was right. Fuck. I needed to change that. I needed to show her that not all men used and ran. We might be savages who rule these streets, but here in this room, in this bed, this was where our women ruled. The only place we showed weakness—weakness to the women who owned our hearts. And, by God, this woman was clawing her way through my heart so fucking fast, my goddamn head was spinning.

  I reached down between her legs, slipping a finger through her slick heat. “I need you to lay still and take it how I choose to give it to you.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “You heard me. Don’t rush this, Dahlia.”

  She kept her eyes on me, but the confusion was there in the shades of color in her irises.

  Easing my hand down between her legs, reaching for her entrance with the tip of my finger, I felt her hips buck as she wanted me to slip inside. But I denied her that by pulling away.

  “Onyx, don’t.”

  I let go of her face, still reaching behind me as I traced a fingertip against the delicate skin of her thighs. “Why do you want to rush this? We’ve got nothing but time.”

  Without warning, she shot upright, grabbed my shoulder, and had my back pinned on the mattress, her legs straddling me. “You think you have control here?”

  “I know I do.” I reached up and palmed both her breasts. “It would be so much easier if you let me do what needs to be done.”

  “And what, exactly, is that?” She thrust her hips, her slick pussy slipping across my dick, sending a wave of lust crashing against my spine. My hands fell on her waist, fingers digging into the skin of her hips.

  “You need to be worshipped and not fucked.”

  “Believe me, nothing about me is worth worshipping.” Another movement of her hips, and I clutched her waist tighter before flipping her body to the side, regaining control and pinning her back to the bed.

  “From where I’m standing, every inch of you is worth worshipping. Why don’t you see that?”

  She struggled against the hold I had on her arms pinned next to her head, but I tightened my grip. “Onyx, stop this.”

  “No. Tell me.”

  “Tell you what?”

  I stilled, staring into her eyes, her secrets slowly surfacing. It was right there. All I had to do was reach out and touch it—get her to trust me. I sat up, not letting go of her arms. “Your emotional wound. You asked what mine was earlier, yet you wouldn’t tell me yours. What is it?”

  “It’s nothing.” She struggled again, but this time I tightened my thighs next to her hips, keeping her in place.

  “What is it, Dahlia? Who hurt you? Who made you believe that men only fuck? Use?”

  “Stop.”

  “Tell me!”

  “No!” she yelled. “You don’t know me. You know nothing about me, so stop pretending and just do what we came here to do.”

  “And what’s that? Fuck? Did we only come here to fuck like goddamn rabbits and move on like nothing happened?”

  She stilled. “Isn’t it?”

  I shook my head. “No. Not this time. Someone hurt you. Someone gave you reason to believe all men only used. Well, I’m not that someone, and I sure as fuck won’t be the one who uses you.”

  She tilted her head up, raising her chin, a blatant show of defiance. “So, you’re telling me you’ve never used a woman purely for sex before?”

  I loosened my grip on her arms just a little. “I have. But the feeling has always been mutual. Those women used me as much as I used them. But you, it’s different with you.”

  “How is this different?”

  “I don’t know, okay? I don’t fucking know. It just is. And I am not going to be one of those men who hurt you.”

  “Oh, my God.” She breathed out. “You were the one who asked me to stay. You practically begged me to. And now you no longer want this?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying.” I leaned down, my stomach touching hers—heated skin and heated skin. “What I’m saying is you have a choice here. Either you let me do this my way, or you get up and walk out of here. But I’m not going to be one of those men, Dahlia. Whoever it was who hurt you, I’m not going to be him.”

  Sad blue eyes searched my face, and I could practically hear all her thoughts, her doubts—feel the way she hesitated, wondering if she could trust me. For those few moments, I remained silent so she could sort through those thoughts and decide for herself.

  A slight nod sent relief crashing over every muscle in my body. Truth was, I didn’t want her to leave. And even though I had just given her that choice, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to let her walk out of here if she had chosen to do so.

  Now that she had submitted, I didn’t waste a second. My lips found her hard nipple, licking and sucking, lapping against the beaded bud like it was the last thing I’d ever do. Cupping the round flesh, I squeezed, wanting more of her in my mouth. While I still straddled her, I flexed my hips, moving my body up and down yet keeping her in place.

  Her nipple popped out of my mouth, and I licked my way from between her breasts, up her throat, all the way to the corner of her mouth. “Has a man ever made you feel good before?”

  “Yeah, you did an hour ago in the parking lot.”

  I snickered. “I mean, like this. Unrushed, putting your needs above his own.”

  I felt her tense beneath me, and I watched her face as her eyes stared up at the ceiling. “I’ve always just been a thing to men.”

  My heart hiccupped in my chest, and I instantly hated every fucking man who made her feel less than a perfect woman. Less than worthy of more than some quick fucking.

  I flexed my hips on top of her. “I want to change that tonight.”

  “Why? Why do you care so much?”

  “I don’t know. But in my world, a man doesn’t need a reason to care for a woman.” Leaning down, I feathered more kisses along her collarbone, loving the way her body shivered beneath me. “Grab hold of the bed post above your head.”

  “What?”

  I grabbed her arms and pinned them above her head, forcing her hands on the steel bars. “Keep them there. Don’t move.”

  I let go, gently tracing fingertips down her arms. Her eyes closed, lips slightly parted. Lips had never been so goddamn enticing. I wanted to kiss them until they were bruised and swollen…marked.

  Reaching back as I moved to the side, I slipped my hand beneath her knee, bringing her leg up, my mouth finding the sensitive skin on the inside of her thigh. “I want to do this every night. Use every second I have to make you feel good.”

  The closer I got to the apex of her thighs, the more I could smell her—the sweetness of her lust. The scent that would make any man go savage.

  With a gentle, soft stroke, I licked the outer lips of her pussy, and it earned me the most beautiful sound from her lips. God, she tasted like heaven, and it turned my mind into a haze of euphoria. Not even cocaine was strong enough to give me the same kind of rush.

  Pressing both my palms against the insides of her thighs, I
forced her legs open, spreading them as wide as possible, her sweet cunt blooming just for me.

  With another lap of my tongue, sweeping the tip from her entrance to her clit, I used my thumbs to spread her open for me. “I want to watch you come,” I said against her wet flesh. “I want to see your pussy gush with pleasure.”

  She was already swollen and ready, ripe for the taking. And, by God, it was torture for me not to ravage her by tearing through her body with my aching cock.

  “Onyx—”

  “Keep your hands on that motherfucking bedpost. Do not move.” Using my tongue and the tip of my thumb, I sucked and stroked, licked and touched, playing with the goddamn paradise between her legs. I could feel her struggle, her fight to stop herself from moving.

  Fighting the urge to go faster, harder, I worked her pussy with a steady rhythm, determined to make it last for as long as possible.

  “I want to play with you until it hurts.”

  “It’s already hurting.”

  “Not enough.”

  Straightening, licking her taste off my lips, I stared down at her as I cupped her pussy, wetting my palm with her arousal before wrapping it around my cock, giving it a few hard strokes, needing just a little relief form the ache.

  Her back arched, her expression dark, wild—almost primal. The room became toxic with need, both of us crazed with a carnality strong enough to break us. Even though I wanted to sink deep into her, I wasn’t done playing with her yet.

  Grabbing both her ankles, I pushed her knees forward, moving my hips so the tip of my cock nudged against her center, slowly driving forward, slipping inside. Just a little—that was all I gave her. Just the tip. Just a taste. She moaned, arched her back, and craned her neck, her body desperate for me to sink in farther. But I reared back, pulling out.

  “Onyx. Jesus.”

  I smiled. “I’m afraid Jesus ain’t here, buttercup.”

  Slipping a finger inside her, a desperate moan ripped from her throat. It wasn’t enough; a single digit wasn’t what she needed. I circled around her sensitive nub, her leg trembling, shaking, and I could only imagine the agony she was in. The anticipation of an impending release slowly tearing her apart inside.