The Disciples: A Dark Romance Collection

by Sweet, Izzy

  Now there’s nothing to stop him from touching me with both of his hands.

  “Did Charlie have a hard time falling asleep?” he rumbles, and reaches up to brush a strand of hair out of my face.

  The movement is so tender, so damn sweet and unexpected, I freeze in place.

  His eyes soften as he stares down at me.

  I shake my head, partly to answer him and partly to shake him off.

  He frowns and drops his hand, settling it on my thigh now. His big fingers wrap around me and give a gentle squeeze. “Then what took so long?”

  “The story,” I lie.

  “That must have been quite a story.”

  I squirm uncomfortably. “It was.”

  He nods his head slowly, and I have to look away because the way he’s staring at me is making me feel incredibly uneasy. I almost wish he’d get angry or pissed about something. This gentleness is completely throwing me off my guard.

  “So how did it end?” he asks, grabbing my chin and gently turning my face back to him.

  I lick my lips nervously and something clenches inside me as his eyes light up. All of a sudden, I’m very aware that I’m sitting on his lap. Very aware of every little part of me that’s touching him. My thighs against his thighs. His heat leeching into me.

  “The brave prince and the beautiful princess vanquished the big, mean bear and lived happily ever after.”

  “That’s too bad,” he sighs, and his thumb strokes my cheek.

  “How’s that? He was the bad guy…”

  He smiles and I still, realizing I was just starting to lean into his touch.

  “Maybe the big, mean bear was misunderstood.”

  I start to roll my eyes and his grip on my chin hardens.

  “Maybe the big, mean bear was ready for more from life. Maybe he wanted the brave prince and the beautiful princess because he wanted something of his own.”

  It’s clear now that we’re no longer talking about the story I told and we’re talking about Johnathan himself.

  I don’t know what to say, other than, “This could never work.”

  “Why not?” he growls, his brows pulling down and his lips forming an angry scowl.

  There’s a million reasons… hell, make that a gazillion reasons that this whole situation is doomed to fail.

  And the first reason is because, “Charlie needs to be returned his family.”

  “His parents are dead,” he states coldly.

  “I know,” I sigh. “But he has to have other family out there. Grandma and Grandpa. Aunts, uncles, cousins…”

  Johnathan shakes his head and releases his grip on my chin. “No. I had Simon look into it. His family is shit and he’s better off here.”

  “But…”

  “No buts on this, Beth. Both sets of his grandparents are dead. His mother and father were into some bad shit, the whole family was, that’s how he ended up in this mess.”

  Fuck. That’s the last thing I wanted to hear. I was still holding out hope that there was someone out there waiting for the little guy to come home.

  “So you’re just going to keep him?” I ask while leaning back.

  “Yeah,” Johnathan says firmly, his features hardening. “He’s ours now.”

  Double fuck.

  “Ours?” I repeat. I must have heard that wrong.

  “Yes, ours,” he says firmly.

  I immediately start shaking my head back and forth. “No. No. No. Johnathan, this isn’t going to work.”

  Johnathan grabs both sides of my face to stop my head shaking. Glaring into my eyes, he asks, “And why the hell not?”

  “Because I can’t stay here!” I blurt out.

  He leans close until his nose is nearly touching mine.

  “Again,” Johnathan says slowly, calmly. “Why the hell not?”

  “Because I can’t,” I say and close my eyes.

  He’s too close now for me to concentrate. My lips tingle at just the knowledge that his lips are only a breath away.

  I take a deep breath to calm my racing heart.

  “My father is going to come for me, he always does. And he always finds me. Always.”

  I open my eyes to see Johnathan staring at my mouth.

  “You have to give me back,” I implore.

  Johnathan stares at me for a long moment like he’s contemplating what I just said, and I have the wild hope that I’m finally getting through to him.

  Then he has to go and growl, “No.”

  “You don’t understand,” I groan, and try to lean away, but Johnathan pulls me back. “With all his connections, it’s only a matter of a time…”

  A wave of hopelessness washes over me. My life has never been my own. For as long as I can remember, everything has been controlled by my father.

  “I understand perfectly,” Johnathan says, his face darkening with anger. “Do you want to go back to him, Beth?”

  I frown at Johnathan and recoil at his angry look. “Of course not.” It’s not that I necessarily want to stay here. “But I’ve never had a say in the matter.”

  Johnathan nods his head and says with a dark look of determination. “Good, because I’m not giving you back. He’ll have to pry you from my cold, dead hands, and even then I’ll fuck him up for trying.”

  I shake my head in disbelief. What is he saying? Is he actually saying he’d die to keep me? “You’re insane.”

  Johnathan nods his head and his eyes gleam possessively as he says, “And you’re mine.”

  His declaration of possession causes my heart to jump into my throat.

  Before I even have a chance to truly process how I’m feeling, he pulls me even closer.

  His eyes soften and once more his attention falls to my mouth. I can tell he’s thinking about kissing me and my breathing quickens with my own want.

  “Your father can come for you, but he can never take you away from me. He’ll have no legal recourse if you’re my wife.”

  16

  Beth

  “Wife?” I repeat dumbly.

  My ears are ringing and my brain feels light-headed and full of static. It’s like a bomb just went off in my head.

  He can’t be serious, he can’t. I know he was joking about it with his boss earlier, but how could he possibly want to marry me after only knowing me for a couple of days? No, no way. Only an idiot, or someone truly crazy, would be willing to do that.

  There must be something else to this. A catch…

  All at once it hits me, and I nearly sag with relief as I figure it out.

  “Oh,” I start to smile. It’s ingenious really. “You mean like a sham marriage? That would be really awesome of you, but I can’t ask you to—”

  Johnathan’s face darkens and he reaches down, grabbing me by the hips. I yelp as he twists me around and forces me to straddle his lap.

  I push at his chest and try to rise up but he yanks me back down.

  His fingers dig into my hipbones and then he grinds his hard groin against my sex. “Does anything about this feel like a sham to you?” he rasps.

  I arch away, trying to escape the grinding friction.

  “No,” I breathe, desperate to escape the trap of his hands.

  Even now, in my confused, messed up state, my body is responding to the motion of him rubbing himself against my clit.

  He rocks his hips up again, and his voice is huskier, harsher as he says, “Has anything I’ve said left any doubt about how I feel about you?”

  “I… I…” I repeat, clawing at his shirt. I can’t think properly.

  Between the assault on my mind and body, I’m at a total loss here.

  “Answer the question, Beth,” he demands with another grind of his hips.

  I slowly shake my head and nearly sob as I say, “I don’t know. None of this makes any sense.”

  His right hand releases my hip and drags slowly up my body until his fingers are sliding through my hair. He fists my hair in his hand and uses his hold to force me to sto
p arching away and look at him.

  “Tell me,” he says, his voice full of dark warning. “What about this confuses you?”

  I stare into his eyes, into the face that first drew me in.

  He’s more than just a gruff guy with a beard.

  He’s a man marked by the hard life he’s been living. There’s a dark promise of violence and mayhem in his features that doesn’t exist in any other man I’ve ever known.

  He’s forbidden… danger and excitement all wrapped up in a sexy package.

  And there must be at least a decade between us. Yet, I want him. I can’t seem to stop myself.

  There’s just something about him that gets my blood boiling. Sharing the same air is enough to cause my breathing to quicken.

  But I’m just a young, dumb girl who doesn’t know any better…

  What’s his excuse?

  “You don’t know me. How could you possibly want to marry me?” I ask meekly.

  Johnathan stares at me hard, and from the dark, angry look he’s giving me, I get the feeling I’ve somehow insulted him.

  “Because,” he drawls out slowly. “I know what I fucking want.”

  What kind of answer is that?

  He scowls at the look of disbelief on my face and his fingers tighten in my hair, pulling me even closer.

  “I want you, Beth. There’s no big fucking mystery to it. It’s plain and fucking simple.”

  Still, I’m not convinced. There has to be more to it than that… there has to be…

  “If you want flowery words and fucking poetry, you’re shit out of luck.”

  Is that what I want? Am I holding back and fighting this thing between us because I want sweet declarations of love?

  Johnathan growls in irritation and tugs on my hair, forcing me to arch my neck back. “I want you by my side. I want your fucking sexy body always with me.”

  He leans over me, hovering above me and forcing me to look up. “When you’re not with me it drives me batshit crazy.”

  He rolls his hips, the hard bulge in his jeans grinding against my pussy. “I want you always on my cock.”

  I moan and fight back the surge of desire rolling through me. I know I shouldn’t want him back. I know this entire situation is insane. But to be wanted and desired for who I am, not what I am, feels so fucking good.

  His eyes drop to my breasts and I feel my nipples harden and tighten. He releases his grip on my hair only to shove the top of my dress down. My sleeves slide down my shoulders, trapping my arms against my sides.

  A low, deep growl vibrates in his throat.

  “I want you swelling with my babies. Fuck, I want you knocked up right fucking now.”

  He shoves the cups of my bra down causing my breasts to spill out of my dress.

  Eyes flashing with hunger, his head dips down. “I want to see how big these tits will get.”

  His hot mouth covers my right breast. I gasp and squirm on his lap and his grip on my hip tightens.

  He suckles on me like a man who’s been starving and I’m the feast that’s literally been dropped in his lap.

  His tongue licks circles around and around my nipple, and I can feel a jolt of pleasure in my core each time he pulls a suckle back.

  Fuck, I’m already so wet.

  He keeps making all these deep, rumbling noises in his throat, and knowing that he’s enjoying what he’s doing, knowing that he’s enjoying the taste of me, shatters what’s left of my resistance.

  Without even really realizing I’m doing it, I start to rock my hips.

  I just have to move. I can’t sit still with all this warm pressure building in my sex.

  Throwing back my head, I arch my spine and offer up my breasts to him. His hand squeezes me, his fingers kneading, picking up my rhythm.

  “So fucking sweet,” he murmurs, his eyes hooded as he leans away.

  I pant, my breasts rising and falling, aching for more attention, as I stare at him. My nipples are so wet and so engorged, they throb with the thundering beat of my heart.

  I could probably come from him suckling on my breasts alone, and almost did.

  His hips rock up, and I swear that hard bulge in his jeans has grown even bigger.

  He releases his grip on my hip and then his rough palm drags down my thigh.

  “I want to be the only man who makes you wet,” he rasps, and then his hand is pushing between my thighs.

  My panties are pushed to the side and then those wonderful, thick fingers of his slide through my folds.

  “Ah, fuck. You’re soaking wet, baby,” he groans. He slides his fingers back and forth, gliding along my wetness.

  I bite my lip and close my eyes, fighting the need to rock my hips. Fighting the need to find a way to work those thick fingers into my needy sex.

  His thumb finds my clit and begins to rub in small, tight circles.

  “Johnathan,” I moan.

  His fingers quicken, driving me quickly to the point of orgasm.

  “Beth, I want to be the only fucking man who makes you come.”

  His fingers work fast and furious until I’m crying out.

  I’m so close. So close.

  My muscles tighten in anticipation. The pressure inside me expands and expands.

  I’m about to explode.

  The world around me starts to turn white and then he just stops.

  His thumb leaves my clit, dragging through my folds teasingly. I blink, trying to bring the world back into focus.

  What the fuck?

  Johnathan chuckles and pulls his hand away from me altogether. Working between us, he unbuckles his pants and pulls his cock out.

  I look down and watch as he grips his shaft in a fist and pumps it up and down.

  I’ve never watched a man stroke himself before, and even though I’m a little pissed he just left me hanging, I’m also fascinated by the way his skin bunches up near the head and then smooths back down.

  “In this life, if you want something you gotta take it.”

  Is he serious?

  I glance back up.

  The look on his face is so hard, so intense, I have no doubt.

  “Are you going to take it, Beth?” he growls.

  Fuck. Do I want him bad enough to do this?

  I glance back down.

  His cock is a deep, angry red, and there’s this pearly, white liquid leaking from the head.

  “Touch me,” he urges.

  I want to. I want to know what he feels like in my hand, but, “My arms are trapped.”

  With a sound of annoyance, he grabs the bottom of my dress and then rips it up, over my head.

  “Touch me,” he urges again, tossing the dress away.

  I bite my lip and tentatively reach down.

  The tips of my fingers brush against his cock, and when it jerks, I yank my hand away in surprise.

  He chuckles. “Come on, it’s not going to bite you.”

  His hand finds my hand and guides me back to his shaft.

  He groans with pleasure as I wrap my fingers around him and suddenly I feel so powerful.

  I try to mimic what I watched him do. I pump my fist slowly up and down.

  His skin is smooth and hot to the touch. There’s this silky, velvety quality to it that just glides against my palm.

  I work my hand up and down, my strokes coming faster and faster.

  He groans as if he’s in pain, and a little, evil part of me likes it. That is until his hand moves and his thumb finds my clit again.

  He presses his thumb against me, once more working it in tight circles.

  The orgasm I was so close to achieving earlier comes back with a vengeance.

  My hand quickens, my strokes coming faster and faster, matching the need I’m experiencing.

  Once more, I’m so close. So fucking close I can taste it.

  Johnathan groans with agony. I can feel his precum leaking all over my hand.

  My core clenches. The first tremor is about to hit. I give myself u
p to it, letting go with abandon, but then I come crashing back down to my senses.

  “If you want it, Beth, fucking take it,” Johnathan says harshly, and his thumb leaves my clit.

  I cry out at the loss.

  My body is literally shaking from being cut off.

  My clit throbs painfully, and I just can’t stop myself from clenching on empty air. My skin is so raw, so sensitive, if I don’t do something about this pent up pressure inside of me, I feel like I might literally fucking die from it.

  But I just can’t do it. With a slow, dawning sense of horror, I realize I don’t want to take at all.

  I want to be taken.

  Johnathan stares into my eyes and then he grins as if he can read my mind. “If you want something, take it, Beth,” he repeats, and I want to scream in frustration.

  Why is he making me do this? Why doesn’t he just push himself on me like he did last time?

  I stare into his eyes, just about ready to slam myself down on his cock as my consolation prize, when I figure it out.

  Lowering my lashes, I lean forward and moan against his mouth, “I want you on top.”

  His eyes flicker. I start to smile but then the world blurs around me, and suddenly I’m on my back. Johnathan comes down on top of me, and I welcome his weight.

  Something dark inside me fucking needs this. Needs him in control.

  There’s a freedom in submission. There’s a freedom in letting go.

  His weight begins to sink me down into the cushions of the couch and I open my thighs wide to accept his huge body.

  “Is this what you want?” he asks.

  Taking himself in his hand, he rubs the crown of his cock against my entrance.

  Yes, I think, as I wrap my legs around him.

  “Beth,” he growls. “Is this what you want? Tell me.” He guides his cock up to my clit and smashes it down.

  “Oh fuck,” I blurt out and jerk. “Yes! I want this. I want you, Johnathan.

  There, it’s out. Now that I’ve said it, I have to fucking own it.

  I want to be under this man. I want to be connected to this man.

  I want him to split me open with his huge cock.

  “Good,” he groans, and his cock slides down until it’s poised at my entrance.

  He grabs me by the hair and forces my eyes down. “Now watch me take what I want.”