Kings of Anarchy

by Caroline Peckham

  Saint was quiet during his walk and so was I. It wasn't until we were almost back to The Temple that he took one of his headphones out and spoke.

  "It's time to return to the rules, siren," he said firmly. "The schedule will restart today. So tonight you will sleep at Monroe's."

  I blinked in surprise. "Are you sure?"

  "I'm well enough. I don't need mollycoddling anymore," he said sharply then he caught my hand, pulling me to a firm halt.

  I frowned as I waited for him to go on, unable to read the twisting vortex in his eyes. Sometimes I knew what he needed on instinct, other times it was completely impossible to read anything from his face at all.

  "I am grateful for your..." he paused, a crease forming between his eyes as he struggled with how to finish that sentence.

  "Help?" I offered with a hint of amusement in my tone.

  "Company," he decided, evidently unable to admit he'd needed anything from me.

  "You're welcome." I shrugged, moving to leave but he tugged on my hand to keep me there as the wind blustered around us on the path, the pine trees groaning as they swayed.

  "And I've enjoyed your company immensely," he continued, sounding like some eighteenth century gentleman. Which was the strangest thing because it made a weird kind of sense. He was so proper, but I'd still never made the connection before. I guess he could be classed as a soul devouring demon in the body of Mr Darcy though.

  My heart warmed at his words and I slid my fingers out of his, stepping closer. His eyes widened as he tried to predict my next move, but clearly couldn't. I tip-toed up, wrapping my arms around him and hugging him gently, careful not to crush his bad arm or his hurt ribs. His breathing hitched and he stiffened in my hold like this kind of touch was repugnant to him, or maybe just alien. But he surprised me again when he folded his good arm around me and held me close. He didn't have to wear the sling anymore, but the cast was still in place with a covering over it made from one of his shirts. Kyan had drawn a large, grotesque squid with tentacles made out of cocks on the cast while he'd been sleeping one night and the rage that had roused in Saint had barely simmered since. Blake had had to hold him down so he didn't rip the whole thing off and I'd made the covering for it so his brain didn’t implode.

  I turned my face towards Saint to say I'd enjoyed my time with him too - much to my freaking surprise - but he turned at the same moment and his lips collided with the corner of my mouth. I pulled away in surprise, my mind whirling.

  What the fuck? Did he just try to kiss me?

  Kissing me surely hadn’t been Saint Memphis' intention. Had it? If it had been anyone else, it would have been obvious. But he was an enigma when it came to intimacy. And he didn't kiss people. But fuck, I wanted him to. I wanted to feel the mouth of the devil on me and see if he tasted like sin itself. I didn't second guess that desire. I just let it flood me and take over.

  Heat flushed into my cheeks as I awkwardly moved back into his personal space, seeking out his mouth, but he retreated immediately, his eyes pooling with rage.

  "Saint," I said breathily, but he wouldn't look at me. He took another step back, carving out a hole of rejection in my chest.

  "Make breakfast," he ordered, falling back on his routine and his freaking rules to save him from this awkwardness.

  "Saint," I said again, stern this time but that clearly wasn't a good choice because although he did look at me, it was with a hard wall behind his eyes and a snarl on his lips.

  "The rules are back in place, Plague, so if you don't want to be punished, I suggest you move right fucking now."

  I gaped at him, scolded by him using that name against me. My jaw clenched and anger sizzled beneath my flesh. “Fine by me.”

  I turned my back on him, striding inside with a furious scowl on my face.

  "Hey, princess, what's up?" Monroe had arrived while we were gone, sitting on the couch in football shorts and a t-shirt ready for teaching P.E. today. My heart lifted at the sight of him and some of the rage I felt over Saint's words ebbed away.

  "The rules are back on, so I'm bunking with you tonight," I told him airily and he beamed, making the rest of my anger fall away.

  "Really?" he asked hopefully.

  "Really," Saint said from behind me and I jumped. He moved as silently as a ghost sometimes. He took his seat at the dining table, looking at me expectantly and my anger returned just as Monroe schooled his expression, apparently not having noticed him slipping in either.

  I started making breakfast and felt Monroe's eyes following me.

  My own gaze was drawn to him again and again and electricity coursed up my spine as he followed my movements. I was glad we were returning to Saint's routine, the rules allowing me time with him at last. And today of all days when I felt like the dark sea of grief in me was churning and roiling, begging to drag me down into it, I needed my rock more than ever.

  ***

  Saint, Blake and Kyan all walked me to Monroe's house in the evening, the three of them surrounding me like bodyguards. I'd thrown myself into my school work all day to try and distract myself from the bittersweet memories of my previous birthdays and the sharp reminders that I would never spend another one with Dad or Jess again.

  I hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, just wanting this day to pass by without dwelling on it. What made this day worse than ever was that I'd been called by the police to ask whether I wanted Dad’s body cremated or buried and they had offered me the choice of a virtual fucking funeral. With the Hades Virus peaking in the country, I wasn't allowed to travel anywhere to hold an official service for him. So I had to make that choice over a phone call. And now his cremated remains were going to be mailed to me in some neatly packaged box and apparently it could take several weeks for it to arrive because the virus was making processing slow. It made me want to scream. And not just because I couldn’t have a funeral for my own father, but because this was exactly what Mortez had wanted. For Dad’s death to be packaged up with a tidy little bow and the whole world to believe he was guilty.

  The fact that Dad had taken the fall for releasing the Hades Virus meant whoever was truly responsible for unleashing the virus was walking free somewhere. It had to have something do with Royaume D’élite. Those psychos were clearly linked to Mortez and it was obvious they had the power and the resources to pull it off. It didn’t matter who they were though, I would come for them, find their weaknesses, expose them for what they were to the whole world. I couldn't picture my enemy in my mind's eye, they were just a faceless monster lurking in the shadows, but one day I would have a face and a name to pass to the authorities. And maybe if I was lucky, that face and name would belong to a dead body by then. My plan relied on Saint hunting down whatever he could about them and finding leads for us to follow. So far, he was finding it difficult. But I had faith in him in this single thing. If there was a man on earth obsessive enough over details to find a thread to pull on when it came to these illusive people, it was Saint.

  "Mr Monroe!" Blake crowed, chuckling loudly as he hammered his fist on the back door.

  Monroe yanked the door open looking furious. "Shut your mouth," he hissed. "Do you want the whole faculty to hear you?"

  "Chill out, man," Blake said. "No one can hear us out here."

  "Sound carries in these woods," Monroe growled. "I know it's not your reputation you're risking, but-"

  "Monroe's right," Saint cut in, smacking Blake around the back of his head. "Don't be a fucking idiot."

  Blake looked like he was about to punch him back then his eyes fell to the cast on his friend’s arm and he just rolled his eyes.

  Kyan muscled his way past Monroe to get inside, placing my overnight bag down beside the couch. The rest of us filed in and Kyan flung himself down in a seat with a sigh. "Maybe I'll stay with you guys tonight." He pressed his tongue into his cheek as he looked at me, his eyes glittering with mischief. The expression had my stomach fluttering.

  "No. You know I have work for you to do
," Saint said harshly from the doorway. "And we're bordering on late already, so get back outside."

  "What are you up to?" Monroe asked and Kyan stood up, rubbing his thumb over the corner of his mouth as he smirked.

  "We're going hunting," Blake said, his voice rough and dark.

  "For the fucking 'Justice Ninja'," Kyan air quoted the words.

  "We just have to squeeze the right throats tonight and we might get a name at last," Saint purred, the excitement in his voice clear.

  I noticed Kyan had his fucking hunting knife on his hip and everything. They really were taking this seriously.

  "Be careful," I said as Blake pulled me in for a tight hug.

  His mouth found mine and he kissed me unashamedly in front of them all. The second he pulled away, Kyan took his place, grabbing my waist and dipping me low just to out-do Blake as he drove his tongue into my mouth, swallowing my squeal of surprise. I could taste them both when he released me, pushing me into Monroe's arms and it was the most deadly, enticing concoction. I wonder what all four of them taste like mixed together…

  My gaze met Saint's and my heart drummed harder as he eyed my lips with heated lust before turning sharply and striding out the door. Blake followed and Kyan was last, taking his sweet time and stepping outside, pulling the door over with his head still poking into the house. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." He winked.

  "That's a short list," Monroe called after him.

  "True. There's only one item on it, Nash," he whispered then shut the door mysteriously.

  "What do you think that is?" I turned to Monroe and he grinned.

  "Anal. Taking, obviously," Monroe said with a shrug.

  I snorted then silence fell between us and my stomach swirled as I realised we were alone at last.

  "Do you wanna...have something to eat?" he offered and I strode toward him, shaking my head. "Watch TV?"

  "No," I breathed, a sideways smile pulling at my lips.

  "Oh," he said in realisation then grinned wickedly. He slipped past me, locking the front door before turning fast, grabbing my hand and dragging me across the room and into his bedroom. "Do you have any idea how many times I've thought about having you in this bed, princess?" He shoved me down onto the mattress and I laughed as I bounced on it, kicking my heels off as he took in the tight black long-sleeved dress Saint had picked out for me. I fell back against his sheets, his pine scent everywhere as I took in the room with white walls and dark blue accents. There was a rack of weights against one wall beside a punching bag and a full length mirror on the other which was wide enough that it gave me a view of most of the bed. "Kinky," I teased. "Have you had Mr Helix in here bent to your will as you whisper about erupting volcanoes in his ear?"

  "No," he growled, kicking the door shut, his face saying he was in no mood for jokes as he dragged his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor.

  My eyes travelled over his sculpted body, trailing across the tigress tattoo on his chest to the roses curling along his collarbone and the tribal markings winding over his pecs. I sucked on my lip as my core clenched, so ready for him that I was losing my mind.

  “Miss Pontus maybe?” I arched a brow and he huffed out a breath.

  “Stop talking,” he ordered and I did, biting my lip as I focused on this tempting man before me.

  I moved up onto my knees at the end of the bed and he reached down, grabbing the hem of my dress and practically tearing it off of my body. He drank in the dark green lingerie combo I wore with desperation in his eyes and I shivered from that look alone. He reached down, unclipping my bra and pulling it off then he pushed my shoulders so I fell back on the bed. Monroe tugged my feet out from under me and ripped my panties down my legs before tossing them aside. I drew my knees up, excited by his furious haste and he growled as he rested his hands on them and spread my legs wide, making my skin blaze like a furnace as he took in every piece of me.

  "You're a siren, Tatum," he said, his voice raspy as he leaned over me, pressing my knees harder so they were driven into the sheets. "I'd gladly dive into the ocean and die for a taste of you." He dropped his head down between my legs and I cried out as he feasted on me. There was no other word for it, his mouth drove against me like he was starved of my flesh. He sank his tongue into my heated core and I fisted my hands in the sheets, my back arching as I bucked my hips and offered myself up to him like a sacrifice on his altar.

  He spread my thighs wider still, giving him access to every sensitive piece of my body as he licked and sucked, groaning into my pussy with need. When his tongue slid down to my ass, I squirmed like crazy and he slammed a hand to my stomach, keeping me still as he swirled the tip of his tongue over me and I was soon panting and blushing, a new kind of moan escaping me as I stopped wriggling and started begging for more. His mouth dragged up my centre again and landed on my clit as he started another earthquake beneath his tongue. I was going to shatter, crash, break. And I wanted to so badly it hurt.

  "Nash," I gasped, barely able to take it as he continued to devour me, never letting me fall to ruin.

  "You're going to beg for my cock, princess. I want to hear you whimper for me. I want to make you feel how I've felt waiting to have you again," he growled, turning his head to nip my thigh. He was holding back just enough, careful not to mark me, but that made my skin tingle even more. There was a thrill in hiding this wild passion between us from the world, even if it was difficult at times.

  He moved up my body, starting up a new torment on my skin as he sucked and licked everywhere he went. He made it to my breasts and started teasing my nipples, one with his tongue and the other with his fingers. I wrapped my legs around him and he pushed his free hand between us, palming my soaking pussy and laughing into my flesh.

  "Nash!" I demanded as he continued to coat his fingers in my desire but he never gave me more than that, savouring how much my body craved him.

  "Beg," he insisted, taking his hand from between my thighs and smearing my wetness over my nipples. He fell on my breasts with an unholy groan as he lapped the flavour of me away and I swear I was about to come from this alone.

  I was stubborn as shit though and he knew that, but this was clearly turning him the fuck on. And if he didn't give me what I needed soon, I really was going to give in and beg. But not yet. I'd see if he'd break first.

  I wriggled my hand between us, cupping his solid cock through his jeans and he drew in a breath between his teeth as I rubbed and squeezed him. I fumbled with his zipper and he lifted his hips as he let me push my hand through his fly, my fingers gliding beneath his waistband and wrapping around his thick, waiting length.

  "Fuck, your hands are so soft," he groaned as I tightened my grip, sliding my palm up and down him as I bathed in the perfect smoothness of his shaft. I needed to feel it inside me and I was sure he wouldn't wait forever for me to beg, especially when I felt the wet bead of desire on the head of his dick with my thumb. He was close to losing it himself.

  "Come on, Nash," I encouraged with a smirk on my face. "You're the one who's about to beg."

  He chuckled low in his throat, thrusting his hips slowly as he fucked my hand. "You're all talk, princess."

  He grinned down at me, pressing his hands into the sheets as he lifted more of his weight off of me. My heart stumbled at the sight of this Viking warrior above me and my tummy dipped at the same moment. Hell, he was beautiful. He looked like he was plucked straight out of some Norse myth, a god come to claim me. But I was a goddess to match him and I wasn't going to bow. I just had to up my game.

  I took my hand from his boxers and massaged my breasts instead, locking my eyes on his as I writhed beneath him, moaning and panting while I waited for him to crack.

  His eyes travelled down my body and his expression became purely animal. "Oh...shit,” he breathed.

  I slid one hand down my stomach, my muscles flexing and tightening beneath my palm before I reached for my clit and started toying with myself. I rolled my head against
his sheets, putting on the show of my life for him as I groaned and sighed his name. It wasn't even faked. Not a single second of it. I was high on this man, desperate for his touch. But I would have him come to me. Not the other way around.

  I started to fall apart as I stared at him, drinking in the sight of him watching me as I circled my fingers over my throbbing clit.

  He slapped my hand away and his jaw clenched. "Enough," he snapped, a warning in his tone.

  "If you're not man enough to do it, I'll do it myself," I teased and his eyes flashed with rage.

  "Too far, Tatum," he warned and I gasped as he dragged me off the bed, twisting me around to stand in front of him and capturing my chin with one hand. "See that?" He angled my head down toward the white sheets which were darkened by a wet patch in the centre of them. "Your pussy doesn't lie to me, princess, no matter how much you do." His teeth grazed my ear and I shivered, a whine escaping my throat which was filled with pure desperation. How long were we going to play this game? I’d already waited so long to be reunited with him like this. Did we have to dance on this line any longer?

  An idea came to me, one which was totally low but would also secure my win.

  "Are you really going to make me beg...on my birthday?" I asked, my voice husky and full of victory.

  He spun me around in his arms, his expression stern as he glared down at me. "What?"

  I fluttered my lashes. "It's my eighteenth today." I swallowed the sharp ball in my throat as saying those words threatened to unleash the cutting grief in me again, gazing at him steadily as I asked what I needed of him with my expression alone.

  "Since when?" he demanded.

  "Er, since always?" I offered with a shrug and his eyes narrowed.

  "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "I didn't tell anyone," I said, my smile dropping a little. "I just didn’t want to dwell on...everything."