The Forgotten

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The Forgotten Page 10

by K. A Knight


  "Just...just get dressed."

  When I look over my shoulder, his eyes are locked on my ass, and he looks like he is about two seconds away from throwing me on the bed, hell yeah.

  I decide to take pity on him, he is the bringer of coffee so I have to be nice. I get dressed and down both before looking back at him. "Okay, Beast. Let’s go."

  "I hate you, I am never sucking your dick again. You will have to learn to do it by yourself," I lament, flopping back onto the mat in a sweaty mess, and guess what? No orgasms. Just pure torture.

  He laughs and sits down next to me, reaching out to massage my legs even as I glare at him. "I mean it, I was even going to let you do me in the ass, but now? That train has long gone buster, the only hole you are sticking little beastie in is your fists."

  He chokes before he laughs, it roars from him. It's a nice sound and I find my lips twitching, even as I pant and groan. My whole body aches and I am sweating from places you shouldn't sweat from, and what is that fucking smell? Lifting my head I sniff under my arms and grimace. Shower then nap, that's the plan.

  He slaps my leg and gets up, his chuckles dying off. "Come on Brawler, you need to stretch out your muscles or you will get stiff." I accept his hand and he pulls me up, holding me to his chest more than he needs to. "You are doing really good," he praises, looking down at me.

  "Was that...a compliment?" I act shocked and he grunts. Laughing now, I turn to whip my head around when he spanks me.

  "Get washed, you stink," he teases and I narrow my eyes at him.

  "Oh and you smell like fucking daisies? I don't think so buddy, might want to wash yourself."

  I grin when he glances down, and he thinks I don't notice when he discreetly sniffs himself. Still moaning about my muscles we leave the gym together.

  "Want to wash my back?" I wink and wiggle my eyebrows and he glances over, looking confused.

  We wait for some guards to pass us before he opens his mouth. "Why, can't you reach it?" His face is scrunched up adorably and I have to bite my lip to hold in my laugh, something tells me he wouldn't appreciate it.

  "Sex, I was asking if you wanted to have shower sex," I point out helpfully, and his eyes widen and his mouth opens in an ‘O.’

  I grin and turn. "Race ya!" I shout and start jogging as I hear him swear and scramble to chase me.

  I manage to avoid his grasp until I tumble into my room, he slides in as the door is shutting, and grabs me under my bum and lifts, his mouth sealing on mine. I groan and wrap my legs around him as he walks us backwards.

  He fumbles with the shower, holding me with one hand as I tangle my tongue with his. I hear the shower spray come on and I drag my mouth away, panting as I tug on his shirt. He drops me to the floor and yanks it over his head, revealing his washboard abs and adonis belt. I quickly strip as he pulls off his pants, hopping from foot to foot. Grinning, I dart under the spray, slicking my hair back as he jumps in and pushes me into the wall until my breath whooshes from me. I manage to slip away, wagging my finger as I quickly wash my body. He rolls his eyes but copies me, before backing me into the wall again.

  He is on me in an instant, kissing me hard before he pulls away, trailing stinging kisses down my neck and then he drops to his knees, pushing my legs apart as his lips wrap around a nipple. Groaning, I lean my head back and grip onto his hair, wrapping it around my fist. He switches to the other one as his hand skates up my thigh, wrapping around it and hoisting it onto his shoulder. Kissing down my stomach, he slides his eyes up as he blows a warm breath on my already wet pussy. I meet his gaze and he licks me, making me wiggle and moan.

  Without warning, a finger pushes into me, making me throw my head back and clench my eyes shut. He adds another, stretching me as he teases around my clit with his tongue. His hand wraps around my other thigh, digging in hard enough to bruise and he throws my second leg over his other shoulder and pulls my pussy closer to his mouth. Bracing my back against the wall, I have to trust him to hold me, good job he is strong enough.

  “Fuck,” I pant, writhing against his mouth as he fucks me with his tongue.

  He groans into me, making me push harder against his mouth. His fingers sink into me as he starts to fuck me, curling his tongue around my clit at the same time his fingers find that spot inside of me.

  I come apart with a scream and as I am recovering, he drops me to shaky legs, spins me, and pushes my face onto the cool wall. Turning to the side, I pant and shake with aftershocks as he kicks open my legs, making me groan. Why is that so hot?

  “Jago,” I moan and that only seems to spur him on.

  Grunting, he grabs my hands and places them on the wall on either side of me. “They stay there.” His voice is rough and hard and I shake at the intensity.

  I do as I am told, and his hand runs down my body, goosebumps rising in his wake until he circles my wet pussy again. His hand leaves me and I feel the head of his cock pushing in, stretching me.

  He slowly pushes until his balls are pressed against me and then he waits, holding me there until I adjust to his size. Groaning, I push back and he grunts again.

  His hand circles my body and grabs my throat, gripping it hard enough to say he means business. My eyes nearly roll back in my head as I push back again, needing him to move.

  “Brawler,” he warns and squeezes my throat harder. Licking my lips, I grin and do it again. He stills my movement by gripping my hip, his fingers digging in. It will leave a bruise and I love that. His hand leaves my hip once I stop, and he tilts my head around until he can seal his lips over mine, the kiss hard and dominant before he pulls away.

  “Be fucking good or you don’t come again,” he cautions, his fingers digging back into my hip as he starts to move. Shallow thrusts that are more torture than pleasure, but I know he means what he said so I stay there like a good girl and let him fuck himself in and out of me. I can’t help the needy little breathless noises leaving me, and every time he hears one, he grunts and thrusts harder, pushing me into the wall.

  “Jago, please,” I beg.

  He growls, both hands tightening as he pulls out and slams back in, fucking me. He does it again and again, slamming me into the wall with his thrusts. His hand on my throat and hips keep me anchored as he fucks me hard and fast, not taking any prisoners until the pain and pleasure mingle together, and I scream my release. He roars and follows me, his cum splashing inside of me as he thrusts once more before stilling.

  He stumbles into me and I flatten into the wall, panting and ready to collapse.

  “Fuck,” he says and I nod, lost for words for once.

  Curled up on Jago's chest, I let his breathing lull me to sleep, knowing I need to rest before our night patrol. I figured once we had recovered from our shower scene he would leave and tell me to meet him tonight, but he surprised me. He stayed. He helped me wash my hair and we dried off and fell into bed, both exhausted.

  He played with my hair and when I wake up, his hand is still wrapped in it. Tilting my head back I grin when I spot his slack face, peaceful in his sleep. I never really noticed the tightness around his eyes and mouth until now. My hand reaches up before I even realise it, and I am just about to touch his face when his hand darts out and grabs mine. His fiery eyes slowly open and he seems confused, when he looks from my hand hovering over his face to me, he lets go quickly mumbling an apology. I drop my hand back to his face, letting him know I don't care, it's not like he really hurt me. He watches me carefully as I stroke his features, like he is waiting for me to hit him or hurt him in some way. He watches me intently as I map out his face with my fingers. When I get to his lips, he parts them slightly as I run my finger across.

  "Piper," he breathes, one of the only times he hasn't called me some form of a nickname.

  It makes me swallow hard and glance up, I see the vulnerability in his eyes and I can't help but lean in and drop a soft kiss on those lips. He lies there and lets me, as I peck him again and again before pulling my lips away to lo
ok into his eyes. He looks dazed and scared.

  Leaning down slowly I kiss him again, he opens his mouth and I sweep in, keeping it soft and sweet. His arms wrap around me as he explores my mouth leisurely. There's no rush, I want him as much as I always do, but I want to show him that this is more than physical, even if he doesn’t want to admit it and neither do I. I have been hurt so much, and so recently, that this is crazy, and opening my heart back up is stupid, but I can’t help letting him in.

  The hours spent training together, the smiles, the jokes, the patrols, all of it piles up until I am telling him with my kiss everything that I can’t say. He returns it and I slowly pull away, breathing each other in before I lay my head back on his chest.

  He drops a kiss on my head and plays with my hair again as he holds me to him, smiling I look at the clock and groan.

  “What is it, Brawler?” he asks, his voice rough.

  “We need to get up,” I say, even as I reach out and start drawing patterns on his chest.

  He sighs, obviously not wanting to move as much as I do, so I lean up and drop a kiss on his lips before sliding out of bed. He watches me as I nip to the bathroom, and when I get back I see he is still in bed, his arm behind his head as he smiles at me.

  I roll my eyes and grab some clothes and get dressed. I hear him sigh and his feet hit the floor as he gets up and clothed. When I have laced my shoes, I glance up to see he’s already finished. Damn, how the fuck did he do that?

  I walk towards him and grin and leaning up, I drop a kiss on his lips, knowing out there we will have to pretend again. He grins against my lips as I pull away, his hand lingering on mine as I turn.

  Like he can’t help himself, he reaches out and pulls me back, spinning until I fall into his chest. Without missing a beat he tilts my chin up and kisses me, it’s hard and hot and I moan as he pulls away, a smile in place to show me he knows exactly what he is doing.

  “Come on, Brawler. Time to patrol.” He spanks me and I glare at him.

  We pack up for patrol quickly, already late, and wait for the bunker door to open. I ignore all the other teams and the looks we are getting. Looking down at the map Jago gave me, I quickly map out the route he showed me while we wait.

  I hear the siren and the door rolls open, we line up with the others and make our way out of Paradise, passing the day patrol coming in.

  Once we hit that stretch of road, the others break off and it feels like I can breathe easier again.

  “I have a new game,” I say with a grin and he groans, making me laugh.

  Looking over at him we share a smile and I start to explain, he throws me looks as he concentrates on driving.

  Scanning the horizon, I try to see why Jago brought us here. The man in question is slipping down the sand covered wall of the building we are perched in, with me lying down and keeping my eye out for any of those biker people again, or what Jago explained as clans people.

  Biting my lip, I bring the sniper scope to my eye and scan the horizon, I was given a quick lesson on it, but I only really know how to look through the scope and shoot, and I have never actually hit anything, so here's hoping I don't need to.

  I watch through my scope as he crouches and crawls across the sandy terrain, freezing every time he must hear something. I feel like I am holding my breath. I don't know why he picked this shack out of all the others, but he says he has a feeling and needs to check it out and as patrol, it's our job. Who knew, I thought it was just fucking and driving. Oops, did I mention that as soon as we got out of sight of Paradise, Jago pulled up behind a building and yanked me into the back seat and ravished me? Yeah, that boy is finnneee, even thinking about it now has my panties wet. Shit, pay attention Piper.

  Grinning, I scan the horizon again before concentrating on his ass as he moves, oh yeah. He is fine alright. I have never been into older men before, but christ on a cracker, let's just say that ain't a problem anymore.

  I go back to my scanning again, and something glints a little ways out and I focus on it, not breathing as I wait. It glints again. There is someone definitely there. Shit. Tilting the scope back to Jago I wait, how the fuck do I get his attention without firing? At this range I can’t tell who it is and they might not be foe, plus it will draw the attention to whoever is around here. No, no shooting.

  Think, Piper, fucking think. An idea comes to mind but I know Jago will kill me, well at least he will be alive. Moaning at my own stupidity, I drop the rifle over my shoulder using the strap, and climb down from my vantage point. Pulling my knife from my boot I set out to where I saw the glint.

  There is no point crouching or trying to stay hidden, nothing but dust lies between me and it, so whoever is there will see me coming a mile off. Groaning, I decide to run, they might not expect that. Dodging dead trees and debris, I stop dead when I see the man waiting for me.

  He is casually leaning back against a silver bike and he is fucking beautiful. His hair is blond and cut short, and he has the most beautiful blue eyes, deep and full, like the pictures of the ocean you were shown in lessons. His face is all angles and filled with a cold confidence. Even as I stare at him with a knife in my hand, he lounges like he is out here to get a tan. Tilting his head he grins at me, his eyes dropping to my body and slowly drinking me in. I shiver at the intensity as he meets my eyes again, his filled with heat.

  "Hmm, I know what Dray means now," he says, grinning like I should know what that means. When I don't respond his grin stretches. "Not a talker?"

  "Who are you?" I ask, gripping my knife tighter as sweat trickles down my temple. I am acutely aware that my back is open to an attack and it's making me nervous, and I am worried about leaving Jago when I should be watching his back.

  "Name's not important, what is, is that your little boyfriend there is running into a hive of scavs. Scavs I am hunting, I don't like when others play with my toys."

  I don't even know what the fuck to say to that. "You mean it's a trap?" I screech.

  "Sort of, just not for you two." Sighing, he pushes away from his bike faster than I thought possible. "Come on then, let's go save your boyfriend." He swings onto his bike and pats the spot behind him. I debate my options before jumping on after him, my concern for Jago overriding everything.

  Crinkling my nose I lean away. "You smell like shit," I comment and he grunts out what sounds like a laugh.

  "You don't smell like roses, Princess." With that, he guns it, dust spraying in our wake and I have no choice but to grip him and hold on tight. He roars right up to the shack. Kicking the stand into place he slides from his bike, I have to jump off as he opens the door like he owns the joint.

  Whistling, I peek over his shoulder to see Jago facing off with six rough looking men. "Hello boys, who wants to play?" he mocks, then slips into action.

  I watch from the door, my knife clutched in my hand as he slips around the room, blood flowing in his wake as he kills them. He makes it look like art, the moves so fluid and clean, whereas Jago just rips them apart, all brutal and bloody. Not two minutes later they are both panting in the middle of the room, side by side, staring at me. Jago is covered in blood and his eyes are locked on mine with lust and anger. The newcomer looks amused and not a hair is out of place, the prick isn't even sweating.

  "Behind you, Princess," he comments casually, and I swing around to see a big bastard trying for the newcomer’s bike. Not wanting to get anywhere near him, I chuck the knife like Jago taught me, and it hits him in the back. He goes down with a scream, his hands reaching back to try and pull it out. Striding forward, I don’t wait for them, wanting to prove I can look after myself and that I have listened to Jago's training.

  When I reach him, I grab the knife, placing my foot on his back to wiggle it from his skin. Once done, I hack down into his exposed neck as he screams, not allowing myself to think of him as a person. I know he would kill me just as easily, I know he had tried to run, but he would go back and get others, they would find us and follow us back t
o Paradise—back to Evan.

  I let that run through my head as blood spurts on me, and still I keep hacking until something warm and soft lands on my arms as I am about to swing again.

  "He's dead," the newcomer murmurs, watching me, his eyes searching my face. When I nod and step back shakily, he lets go of my hand and I drop the knife to the ground, the blood with it, as my whole body shakes.

  Oh god, I killed someone.

  An arm wraps around my waist, turning me into a hard body and when the scent of Jago hits me, I bury my head into his chest. He drops his chin on top of my head and just holds me as a few tears escape, and I fight through my shock, this is what it is after all. I know Jago is watching the newcomer and not wanting to give much away, so I stay quiet as well until I feel more put together.

  Once I do, I squeeze his arm and step back, he lets me as we face off with the newcomer. I watch with horror and interest as he crouches down and turns over the guy. I make sure not to look at his face as he searches his body.

  "Good job, Princess," he says happily while searching the body, and I swallow my bile as I finally look into the dead man's empty eyes. The newcomer keeps talking, but I can't seem to look away from those dead eyes.

  My eyes dart up as the newcomer stands, his head tilted as he watches me. He looks from me to the man on the floor, and a dawning sort of understanding crosses his face before he schools it. "He killed three whores at The Ring, and him and his buddies stole another two, raped and tortured ‘em," he explains casually, and when it sinks in, some of the guilt of killing him evaporates and I know that was his intention, but why?

  "Who are you?" I ask again, and he wags his finger.

  "You have an obsession with names," he deflects, filling his bag with something.

  "Oh yes, it's an obsession to want to know what to call someone instead of just asshole or cocky bastard," I joke and Jago grunts.

 

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