by Trina M. Lee
He swiped the shampoo bottle from my hand and squeezed way too much into his palm. Slapping it into his hair, he worked up a huge lather. Taking his sweet time dominating the spray.
“I failed,” I said, tone absent and detached. Spying a fresh bar of soap on the ledge, I rolled it around in my wet hands. “It doesn’t matter. It’s too late. I don’t want to talk about it.”
No, I did not. If I thought about it, I would break. And if I broke there was nothing and no one to put me back together. Not anymore.
Rather than give myself a chance to think about it, I ran the bar of soap over Falon’s abdomen. It glided over his taut muscles. I massaged it into a lather, careful around the uglier wounds. Why had he let this happen? He’d gone after Bane without a second thought. Reckless.
“Too bad,” he grunted, rinsing his hair, trying to ignore my roaming hands. “You’re telling me everything if I have to beat it out of you.”
“Ditto.” My soapy hand slipped lower. He sucked in a breath. My hope had just died. I needed to drown my sorrows. I needed all my fallen angel had to give me.
Falon caught my wrist before I could wrap my hand around his swelling shaft. Still he watched me with that guarded expression, like he wasn’t sure what to expect from me. “Fine. We’ll talk about it after I fuck you like I own you. Brace yourself. I’m not in the mood to be nice about it.”
Someone was in a mood. I didn’t need to ask why.
“Good,” I fired back, raising a brow in a naughty smirk when the soap slipped from my hand. “I’m not feeling so nice myself tonight.”
We’d both faced personal demons tonight. Literally in Falon’s case. And we’d both come away beaten down. It drew us together. More so now than ever before, I felt his brokenness. It called my name.
My craving for him had taken a darker turn, as had everything else about me. So when Falon roughly shoved me against the hard, wet tile, a devilish laugh spilled from my lips. I wanted him to hurt me in the best and worst of ways.
He shoved a hand between my legs, roughly rubbing me. Sweeping my dripping hair aside, he gave it a sharp tug. “No power. No manipulation. Just you and me. Oh, and no foreplay.”
I nodded, saying nothing. Waiting with a rise of apprehension and longing, I anticipated his rough entry. Without warning, Falon thrust into me in one hard motion. It still took me by surprise. Hands splayed on the slippery tile, my face almost hit the wall from the force. No warm up. No easy build. Falon had some serious aggression to unleash.
But so did I.
Thick and commanding, he filled me. My body opened to him, holding him deep within me. So forceful were his thrusts that I clenched my teeth as it bordered on painful pleasure.
Whatever had gone down between Falon and Bane, it had left him needing to prove something to himself. Maybe even to me. It was evident in the way he took me, rough and with total abandon. At one point I wondered how much of him was there with me, aware of who it was he took his pain and aggression out on.
Of course he knew. That’s what we did together. We used each other to purge the pain.
My forearms shook from bracing myself between Falon and the wall. His hands on my hips held my ass end in place but did little to keep my head from smacking the tile. The sound of our wet bodies slamming together was loud despite the rush of water. My moans became cries and small shrieks.
It encouraged Falon. Harder he thrust, his ragged groans sending a rush of moisture to my core. There was something to be said for having a lover so lost in my body without so much as the slightest touch of succubus thrall. We may have started that way, but now we genuinely wanted one another. A tough humble pill to swallow for sure.
An especially vicious thrust brought my wolf forth. Claws scratched the tile beneath my fingers. Four large fangs filled my mouth. Inside I was a mess of confusion. Wolf. Vampire. Woman. Every part of me.
What was I now without the light? I presumed it wouldn’t be long before the final spark snuffed out, crushed by the spread of dark fire. It burned me, consuming all that was left.
God, why did it have to hurt so fucking much? I slammed a fist on the tile, watching it crack and split beneath my assault. A strangled sound that was both a growl and a sob hung heavy on the steamy air.
I couldn’t numb the pain. The escape I found in Falon eluded me. For the first time.
Falon wasn’t so lost in his wild need to purge his anger all over my body that he didn’t notice what was happening. He didn’t slow his pace, nor did I want him to. If anything, my sob encouraged him to drive the demons from me the only way he knew how.
Deep inside me, he hesitated just long enough for me to savor the way he felt before withdrawing. A hand slid up my body, gliding over the ridges of my spine, around to my chest. Slipping his forearm up between my breasts, Falon pulled me close against him, his chest pressed to my back.
“Let me have your pain, Alexa,” he whispered in my ear. “Leave it all here with me.”
I came undone. Between moans and sobs, everything burst out in an emotional volcano, spewing my shattered soul like lava. Just as surely, it would destroy everyone in its path.
When the sobs overtook the moans, Falon stopped, turned me in his arms, and pushed the soaking hair back from my face. I hated myself for crying my heart out in front of him. Again. Of all the men in my life, he was the last one I wanted to see me so vulnerable.
But the bloody tears wouldn’t stop. The overwhelming realization of what had really transpired tonight ran amok through the remaining fragments of my sanity.
Frustration darted through Falon’s eyes, like he didn’t know what to do. Taking a deep breath, he pulled me into his arms and slowly sank to the floor of the shower, drawing me with him.
The hot water pelted us from above. He held me in his lap, so our faces avoided the spray, and let me cry. The water around us ran red as the tears splashed down. So hard I’d tried to keep it together for Arys and me. I’d let myself believe we’d be ok, defying the odds. That we were here for a reason so much bigger than we’d discovered so far.
I’d believed a lie.
Like those twin flames who’d come before us, and those who would come after, we were destined to fail. Falon himself had said so. Destiny for the twins was destruction.
It wasn’t Falon’s fault that I’d failed. His theory had worked. Lilah had helped fate.
Gradually, the sobs lessened and the tears slowed. I repositioned myself atop Falon, straddling him on the floor of the shower. I needed to feel him. A few strokes of my hand and he was ready for me again. With a few stray tears rolling down my cheeks, I took him inside me.
Falon’s arms went around me. He pressed his face to my breasts and decorated them with hot kisses, letting me set the pace. Needing to step out of my head and fully into the moment, I closed my eyes and focused on the heady sensations of him: His arms around me, strong and gentle at the same time. The scent of him, masculine and musky but so much more. Something poetic and airy, like a summer breeze on the most amazing day. Like a flower I had yet to smell or a fruit I hadn’t tasted.
The need to taste him gripped me, and I reached for one of his hands. Bringing it to my lips, I ran my tongue over the veins in his wrist. A slight nick of a fang and a tiny drop of blood welled up. Just enough to give me that explosion of Falon that I sought. I rushed to capture it before the water could steal it away.
I rode the hard length of him in slow, deliberate strokes. He felt like life beneath me. Inside me. Touching me beyond the physical. Reaching a place he never should have been able to reach.
My eyes snapped open to find Falon watching me with lust but curiosity as well. He kissed me, and I knew it was to keep me from searching his eyes. Tearing my lips from his, I gazed into him, seeking what he didn’t want me to find.
Falon glanced away, down between us. Watching me slide down him, over and over. Hands on my waist, he pulled me down harder, groaning each time his shaft disappeared inside me. When I felt t
he warmth of his release, I came with a quivering climax.
Ten minutes later I stepped out of the shower to find myself alone in the bathroom. Falon had finished showering quickly and vacated, leaving me a few minutes to properly condition my hair and scrub the debris of life from my soul.
Oh right, that’s not possible. That shit sticks with you for-fucking-ever. Wishful thinking again.
I exited the bathroom to find Falon sprawled naked on the king size bed, licking chocolate from the tip of a spoon. He frowned at the plate of chocolate-drizzled brownie. Guess it wasn’t hitting the spot tonight.
“Problem with your dessert?” I asked, wondering how much he’d tipped the room service this time. Falon liked to go overboard. But what did he care? It was my money.
He glanced up, silver gaze raking me in. “Um, yeah. It’s wearing a goddamn bathrobe. Take that thing off.”
Smirking to myself, I tugged the robe tie tighter. I’d put it on just to get a rise out of him. I plopped onto the bed and leaned against the headboard. “Not until you tell me what happened to your face. Then you can have me any way you want.”
That piqued his interest. Mischief lit up Falon’s perfect but bruised face. “Any way I want? You realize that leaves the door open for many possibilities.”
“I do.” I nodded, pushing my stringy damp hair back. “Start talking.”
Falon abandoned the brownie, exchanging it for the bottle of scotch beside the bed. He stared at the amber liquid for a moment before opening the bottle and taking a long drink. Looking straight ahead at the TV, which was off, he sucked in a breath and sighed.
“You want to know what happened to me?” Another swig of scotch chased this rhetorical remark. “You, Alexa. You happened to me. In abundance.”
Even though he purposely averted his gaze, I angled myself to face him. I punched a couple of pillows around so I could lean on them against the headboard. “I’m listening. Tell me again how I’ve fucked up your existence.”
“You wish it was only mine,” he scoffed, snapping his fingers. Immediately the lights went out and we were plunged into darkness. “He’s been watching us, Alexa. Bane. He’s been watching you.”
The large floor to ceiling window showed the city outside. The drapes drawn back, the city lights shone in, casting the only light. The office building across the street stood empty and dimly lit. Traffic on the street below had thinned with the late hour.
“Yeah, I kind of got that impression.” Sitting stiff, I watched him lift the scotch to his lips again. Down the hall beyond our door came a woman’s laughter followed by a man’s hushed tone.
Our room was silent though. Just the sound of the scotch sloshing in the bottle and the mattress as it shifted beneath Falon’s weight. He readjusted, sitting up straighter against the headboard. Still not looking my way. A good two feet spanned between us on the giant bed.
“Bane is dangerous. A spoiled brat prince of a demon who’s always gotten everything he wanted. Even if that meant taking it using whatever means necessary.” He paused, the bitter silence heavy and palpable. Another drink. The bottle was over half drained now.
Studying his silhouette in the trace of window light, I softly said, “I know. I heard the story.”
“You heard Shya’s version, but even he doesn’t know how bad it was. Nobody does. It was a thousand years of reliving the same hell. You’d think I’d have learned after the first dozen times or so to walk away. Break the cycle. But I didn’t have the balls. I loved her too fucking much.” A vicious laugh fell from Falon’s lips. He clutched the liquor bottle in a white-knuckled grip. “And still, I hated her when she was the one strong enough to do it.”
Pressing my lips tight together, I didn’t dare make a sound. Not yet. He had yet to speak her name, but Falon didn’t talk about Winter. Not to me, not ever. I was hanging on his every word.
“I don’t doubt that it was no less than we deserved. It was forbidden right from the start. We both had a duty to protect and serve the light. We chose each other instead. It couldn’t be both ways.” He bit back whatever was about to come next, cutting himself off. After another shot of liquor, he continued with clenched teeth, like it hurt him. “I promised myself I’d never love again. Honestly, I don’t even think I have it in me. I’ve kept my flings with women brief, never letting it go on long enough for anyone to get attached. And it’s worked. Until you.”
Was I supposed to apologize or something? This had taken me by surprise too. Choosing to continue in silence, I studied the rigidness of his spine. The subtle tremble to his bottom lip marked a man battling a memory.
Falon drained the remainder of the bottle, set it on the bedside table, and turned toward me. The light from the window fell behind him, casting his face in shadows. Having keen night vision allowed me to see the inner turmoil etched on his face.
The pungent aroma of alcohol wafted around him as he moved closer, stopping right in the center of the bed. A foot now between us. Mere inches. Nerves tickled my stomach beneath the weight of his gaze.
“I don’t care about your twin or your wolf or anyone else whose bed you’re in. None of that has anything to do with me, nor do I want it to.” His pause was painful and angry, loaded with emotion I could feel seeping from the cracks in Falon’s emotional armor. “But this… Bane. That I care about. He wants what’s mine, because taking the only person I ever loved from me wasn’t enough for him. Now he wants you.”
My tongue lay heavy in my mouth. I stared at him, dumbfounded. The underworld had its own set of rules. To the majority I was nothing but a pest, an unnatural with power I didn’t have the right to possess. Ownership and claim had always played a large role in the supernatural world. But to have a demon view me as Falon’s possession, something to be coveted, well that scared the living hell out of me.
Of course seeing as Arys and I would surely destruct in no time, perhaps I had little to fear from Bane.
Careful, wary of the strange change in the mood, I tried to keep my alarm and confusion from manifesting in my eyes. Whatever he was working up to here, he’d needed a bottle of scotch to do it.
“What are you saying?” I asked, a husky murmur in the quiet hotel room.
Drunk on whiskey and territorial urges, haunted by memories and foes, Falon slid a hand along the back of my neck, into my damp hair. He pulled me close and kissed the corner of my mouth. Lingering.
His hands were on the robe tie, untying and removing it in swift, deft motions. Shoving the robe down, Falon’s lips were on my bare shoulder. He grasped the back of my neck, holding me tight, his touch possessive in a way that my wolf recognized as predatory. Carnal. Territorial.
“I’m laying my own claim on you, wolf.” Falon’s breath came hot against my skin as he made this declaration. “You might have marked me as yours, but in the underworld, you’re mine too.”
Dragging his gaze to mine, Falon let me see it all. The walls came down, and for a brief but poignant moment, he let me really see him. In those silver orbs lay a thousand secrets. And even more memories. Pain. He carried so much. Thousands upon thousands of years’ worth. The things he’d seen and done, so much I’d never know. Lifetimes that he’d lived long before me and would continue long after.
An angel, holy and pure, once. A divine servant. A warrior. Yet not infallible. A fighter, lover, and killer. A traitor. Or so they said. Yet not impenetrable. Falon too carried wounds that shattered the heart and stained the soul.
Falon’s silver eyes locked with mine. There was this flicker there, a viciousness I hadn’t seen before. Suddenly he grabbed me and tossed me down on my back in the middle of the bed. “You hate it, I know. Trust me, I’m not loving it either.”
Tossing the bathrobe to the floor, Falon nudged my legs apart. He wasn’t kidding about the whole ‘no foreplay’ theme tonight. Luckily, it wasn’t a problem. The wicked expression he wore was enough to flood me with excitement.
I couldn’t help myself. Captivated by the strange
turn this had taken, I opened up to him, slinging a leg over his hip. When he hesitated at my entrance, I bit my lip, the anticipation killing me. Not for the moment he took me, but for what he was about to say next.
Falon traced a finger down the side of my neck, swooping back up and around, a pattern I couldn’t make sense of. No, not a pattern. A symbol. He was marking me.
I should have been alarmed, but somehow, I trusted him. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. On some level, I trusted Falon. Huh. Never saw that coming. Or maybe it was simply the press of his cock against me, clouding my head.
“But you know it’s true. And I need Bane to know it too.” Falon leaned down to bite the lip I’d just bitten before sucking it into his mouth. Then he filled me with a swift thrust that made me gasp. “You. Are. Mine.”
Those words, they reverberated in my ears. Had I heard correctly? Did he really say that?
He was on top of me, pinning me with his weight beneath him, a position I tended to avoid with Falon. Because it was so damn intimate. He knew that. So now it was his power position.
Moving inside me, though gentler this time, there was no mistaking the declaration he made with each thrust. Falon’s past had surfaced and threatened his present. This was him protecting it. This was him staking his claim.
Expectantly he watched me. Probably waiting for me to lose my shit. Wanting to mess with him, I smiled up into his face and rose up to match his rhythm.
“Where’s your snarky response?” Falon growled, grasping my breast, his thumb flicking my nipple into a taut point.
“Do you want me to argue?” I gasped on a moan. “Want me to tell you that you’re an arrogant asshole, and I don’t fucking belong to you?”
With a groan he kissed me hard, plundering my mouth with his tongue. “Yes,” he whispered against my lips. “Tell me to go fuck myself. Tell me it’s not my place to protect you from Bane.”
See, now that was something I couldn’t say. Bane was his past. His foe. Why the hell should I have to worry about the demon breathing down my neck? I was up to my eyeballs in darkness. Literally. I had my own battles.