The Token 4 (New Adult Dark Romance)

by Marata Eros

  Thorn's eyes follow us all the way to the giant glass door's of the Millennium Tower.

  He disappears behind the mirrored glass of the car window when Henry closes the door.

  I flutter my fingers in a little wave but can't see if he waves back.

  Mick guides me inside, both of us beat up.

  His hands look terrible, brutalized with raw gelled abrasions where skin is completely gone.

  My face looks like exactly what happened: I got slapped hard. With flesh and metal.

  I'm beyond exhaustion.

  “We got lucky there,” Mick murmurs as he passes Tom the doorman. “Not having to deal with the media.”

  I doubt our lookalikes feel that way.

  Tom looks at me with wide eyes that say he hopes he's got a job tomorrow.

  I suppress a giggle by a hairsbreadth.

  I'm sure he thought I was a permanent has been after the trumped up assault charges.

  Now I might be semi-permanently here.

  Mick lifts my hand to his mouth as the elevator moves toward the nineteenth floor.

  As his soft lips migrate, the crook of my elbow comes to life. I spear the fingers of my left hand through the thick hair that sinks into the bend of my arm.

  His mouth works upward until it reaches the farthest end of my clavicle.

  When Mick finds the pulse at the base of my throat, the doors slide open. He picks me up, his hands cupping my ass.

  I don't hear the keyed entry beep because my arms are wound around Mick's neck, and his hands are deep underneath the dress I wore for him.

  He kicks the door shut and takes me straight to the shower. Mick sets me down in front of the glass walls.

  I begin on the buttons of his shirt as he unzips the back of my dress.

  The dress slips down my curves, getting caught on my hips. Mick's eyes flare at seeing the shimmer of fabric hanging on the widest part of me.

  My naked breasts sway as I shimmy out of it and the dress glides to the floor in a glittering pile to join his ruined shirt.

  Mick unzips his slacks and tosses them off with a flick of his foot. They cover my dress, then it's he that covers me with his naked body.

  He steps on his underwear as he corners me inside the glass shower.

  Mick throws a blind hand back and hits the faucet. The water sounds like rain as it steams the inside of the shower, the fog of heat insulating us together in a hot press of wet flesh.

  I push Mick into the stream and it sluices around his head, stinging and hot against me. His hands flow over my shoulders and reach behind me to return filled with fragrant soap. It's not vanilla or citrus or something I'm used to but a fresh musk. It's watered silk over my body, his tongue is slick heat on my lips.

  I gasp as he cleans me, first one finger then another dipping inside me as his tongue takes mine. Our kissing becomes so deep Mick moves out of the spray and hikes one of my legs up in a soft loop with his forearm as his fingers pump inside me.

  Back and forth his fingers plunge in an expert slide.

  Though exhaustion weighs my body down with fatigue, Mick's hands make me weightless with his tender persistence.

  We need this.

  No words, just water, soap, and our bodies in the humming quiet of a shower as big as my bathroom.

  He doesn't break his pace, and my legs quiver around his fingers as they breach me, pull out and sink into my heat again.

  I shudder as he drives me against the wall of my orgasm. I climb it and at the shivering top his hands leave my body. I stand quaking at the chasm of crashing release as he turns off the water and wraps me in a towel.

  My core pulses. I look into his eyes for what I know he will do—what he'll finish.

  Mick scoops me up, and kissing me, he moves to the bedroom. He lays me on the bed and stares at me.

  Then unwraps me like a precious gift.

  I want to replay this moment forever, the finest of my life: Mick's face as he looks at me as though I'm a found treasure.

  It's a certain look a man holds for a woman. I know that because I've seen a lot of men look at me... and none has ever had that same look in his eyes.

  My sex throbs in time to my heartbeat. His attentions in the shower erased a thin layer of filth I didn’t know I owned.

  Mick's love releases me.

  He doesn't say the words, but I know.

  He crawls over the bed, and I see the rose tat.

  His mouth settles on my tender center, and I cry out, knowing he'll take care of me.

  Mick takes his time, a slow revolution of his tongue moving down the side of my slit with a soft suction that causes my hips to flinch. He weighs me down with large hands on my thighs.

  He spreads my body deliciously as he licks and sucks the other side. When his tongue finds my clit, he rubs the flat of his tongue back and forth.

  My pussy gives a slow, deep pulse, and I know he'll shatter me.

  Pieces of me fly like released doves, and I scream as the rhythm of his tongue slows perfectly. I become so sensitive even his breath makes me shiver.

  A finger presses inside my pulsating core, diving deep, and I buck with want.

  I open my eyes, satiated and languid.

  I nod at him slowly, and he smiles, lowering himself into the well of my hips. His penis nudges me, and I widen my legs.

  Mick enters slowly, his eyes on mine, his cock burying inside me with a smooth rock and retreat.

  Mick dips his forehead until it touches mine.

  I wrap my legs around his waist, pleasantly surprised by the smooth glide of his flesh inside me. All him—in all of me.

  I croon against his neck, gently shoving against him as he rocks deeper.

  “Don't you move a muscle,” Mick growls.

  I still.

  Then I laugh—hard. I can't help it. My walls grip him like a glove.

  “God, Faren!” Mick says. “I have to now...”

  He pumps inside me, moving hard to the end of me then pulling out. I hike up my hips, and he slides his hands under my ass.

  He fucks me with my own body, jerking my hips forward against his hardness.

  He whispers, “I'm going to come in you now.”

  Those words split me open. His dick hardens even more, and I clamp him as I pulsate against his release.

  I suck him down, and he gives me all. We’re a circle of physical perfection I didn't realize existed.

  We are suspended for that frozen moment of ecstasy, and when we can breathe again, Mick detangles from me and slides me in tight against him.

  He smoothes my hair away from my sore face and kisses the abrasion Ronnie made.

  I feel his heartbeat against my back. Strong. Sure.

  “Don't you leave me, Faren.”

  My eyes close as I lie. “Never.”

  “I am who I was meant to be when I’m with you. I'm whole.”

  I feel the same.

  I settle for the one truth I feel in my bones.

  “I love you.”

  Mick turns me over, his hand mounding my breast.

  “Not more than me.”

  I promise myself no more tears.

  I lie.

  Epilogue

  One week later

  I have a new hate for the news.

  I don't know which is worse: that we're all safe and no one went to prison or that every waking moment someone tries to accost me around every corner.

  The paparazzi hang around the entrance to my mom's clinic like vultures with their sights set on carrion.

  I can't wait until we move my mom somewhere undisclosed in the middle of the night under police escort.

  Tannin Mitchell is awake, and she's looking at a full recovery—a new life.

  Was it my almost daily vigil?

  Was it her favorite perfume I wafted under her nose?

  Was it the music that I played that had fed her soul before?

  We'll never know.

  All I know is that I have to tell her
I'm dying, and I can't.

  Kiki is being stalked almost as unmercifully as Mick and me, but Thorn scares them to a nice safe distance.

  Tagger gets the grace of bureaucratic tape in his favor. His wound was superficial. All three cops are on administrative leave pending investigation, and we were sworn to secrecy under threat of lawsuit.

  Tagger's agenda poisoned the waters we must swim in. While he recovers and his motives remain veiled in secrecy until the slow wheels of justice finish turning, we're under the microscope.

  I'm healing up nicely, but wounds that can't be seen remain. Ronnie is dead by my hand.

  Or heel.

  I lean against Mick's shoulder as we drive to the clinic to visit Doctor Ludwig.

  He has news.

  I know exactly what it is, and I should be frightened that my lies are about to be uncovered.

  Then those words come to me that Mick told me a week ago when he made love to me in increments.

  The shower.

  The bed.

  I feel my face heat when I think about all the other places he's taken me to the moon and back.

  Maybe he'll still take me there when he finds out I'm dying. Maybe there won't be a place in the world where he won't go.

  Where I won't follow.

  ***

  Our hands are laced, and I can't stop the dampness in mine.

  Mick raises our hands and brushes his lips over my knuckles. “Dr. Ludwig, I'm not sure why you couldn't tell us over the phone if everything is fine.”

  His eyes are sedate; mine are wide with the news he'll receive.

  My fear of my inevitable discovery crushes me.

  “Faren?” Dr. Ludwig gets my attention.

  I can tell I've missed the first summons.

  Mick smiles at his distraction of me, and our hands drop.

  “Your blood work came back, and there were some trace chemicals found.”

  This is not what I expect.

  “What?” My voice sounds thick, hesitant.

  “Are you taking any medication? For seizures or something else? You listed birth control pills as your only medication?”

  I look at his pleasantly neutral face and rack by brain. I feel Mick's eyes on me.

  I shake my head slowly.

  Oh!

  When I remember, I drop Mick's hand with a small smile.

  I take Kiki’s migraine medication out from my purse and hold it up for Ludwig's perusal.

  The sun turns the orange bottle to fire, and a disquieting premonition flows through me.

  My cell chimes softly from inside my purse, but I ignore it.

  Ludwig's brows pull together.

  “This is for a... Kandace King?”

  “Yes, it's my girlfriend's.”

  His frown deepens. “It's never a good practice to take medication from someone else.”

  I shrug. Like it matters? I glance at my cell. Jay's name flashes in my voicemail.

  It freezes me. But I ignore what that means, coming back to our conversation. “She uses it for migraines.”

  I used it too before I knew.

  “Well, this is Topomax,” he says.

  Mick and I wait.

  “I haven't used it for a little while,” I explain.

  “Often enough.”

  He's being cryptic. Mick says, “Just tell us what the problem is.” His patience has thinned the normally deep rumble of his voice to a sharpened grate.

  “Topomax is known for not mixing well with other medications.”

  My mind tumbles over his words like clothes in a dryer.

  Birth control.

  I grip the edge of his desk.

  “I can see this wasn't what you were expecting,” Dr. Ludwig says.

  A horrible epiphany inserts itself in my brain.

  “What the hell is going on?” Mick turns to me.

  I jerk my face to his.

  “I never skipped a pill,” I promise in a rush.

  He knew I was on them. I told him when he never asked.

  Mick's brows hike and freeze.

  Ludwig looks between the two of us.

  “Topomax interferes with the absorption of certain medications.” He inclines his head toward me.

  His face is not so neutral now.

  “You are pregnant.”

  Three words.

  So different than the two words that began it all.

  I slump back in my chair and exhale like a deflated balloon.

  How can I be dying when there is a life inside me?

  The End

  Preorder THE TOKEN 5, coming April 11, 2014!

  Don't ever miss a new release, exclusive excerpt or giveaway! Subscribe to the Marata Eros NEWSLETTER.

  You might also like: A TERRIBLE LOVE, my New York Times and USA Today bestseller~

  Acknowledgments:

  I began Druids with the encouragement of my husband and continued because of you, my Reader. Your faithfulness through comments, suggestions, spreading the word, and ultimately purchasing my work with your hard-earned money gave me the incentive, means, and inspiration to continue.

  There are no words sufficiently adequate to express my thankfulness for your support. But know this: TDS volumes continued past HARVEST only because of you.

  I truly feel connected to my readers. It is obvious to me, but I'll say the words anyway for clarity: a written work is just words on a page if they are not read. As I write this, I get a lump in my throat; your enjoyment of my work affects me that deeply.

  You guys are the greatest, each and every one of ya~

  Marata xo

  Special Thanks:

  You, my reader.

  My husband, who is my biggest fan.

  Cameren, for without whom, there would be no stories.

  Cassie C. of Red Adept; Thank you, readers. By supporting my work, you've provided me with the means to give you cleaner copy.

  Linda, my only daughter.

  My Aussie Girl, I love ya.

  Beth Dean Hoover, a big supporter of my work, and of me as well; priceless~

  Dii

  Shana

  *

  Ashley H.-H.

  Autumn

  Crystal

  Erica

  Lyd

  Rônin

  Tabitha

  More Books by Marata Eros:

  The Druid Series:

  Reapers

  Bled

  Harvest

  Sow

  Seed

  Plow

  Thresher

  Exotic

  The Druid Breeders

  Baird (available for preorder)

  The Siren Series:

  Ember

  Constantine

  Brandon (available for preorder)

  The Demon Series:

  Brolach

  The Token Serial:

  The Token

  The Token 2

  The Token 3

  The Token 4

  The Token 5 (available for preorder)

  The Token 6 (available for preorder)

  Thorn- The Token 7 (available for preorder)

  Dark Romantic Suspense:

  A Terrible Love

  A Brutal Tenderness

  The Darkest Joy

  In Broken Love - 2014

  The Dara Nichols Series, 1-8:

  3500-5500 words each (naughty & sexual, non-romantic encounters)

  A Hard Lesson, where Dara Nichols gets “schooled” by a few students...

  To Protect and Service, Dara gets pulled over by the cops and taken in hand...

  The 13th Floor, Dara attends a professors' symposium and things heat up in the elevator...

  The Boardroom, Dara's sexual encounter with her students is discovered and she receives some much-deserved discipline...

  The Four Whoresmen, Dara takes a weekend getaway at a remote ranch and gets man-handled...

  The Masquerader's Balls, Dara and Zoe get nailed by a couple of masked men...

 
The Ball Player, Dara takes one for the team at the local gym...

  The Cock Tale, Dara and Zoe teach university president Craig Taylor a lesson in discipline at his own party...

  Disclaimer: The DNS titles are a completely different “flavor” from the work that you just enjoyed. These are explicit erotica centered around sexual, non-romantic encounters. These short stories are more sexual in nature, whereas the dark paranormal novellas are more sensual/romantic tension/erotic romance-driven.

  The ZOE SCOTT Series:

  Smoldering Wet

  BLOG: marataeroseroticaauthor.blogspot.com

  Works written under my real name, Tamara Rose Blodgett:

  BLOG: Tamara Rose Blodgett

  The Death Series

  (young adult dark paranormal dystopian fantasy):

  Death Whispers

  Death Speaks

  Death Inception

  Death Screams

  Death Weeps

  Unrequited Death

  The Death Bundle, books 1-3

  For the Love of Death (available for preorder)

  The Savage Series

  (new adult dark post-apocalyptic steampunk paranormal romance):

  The Pearl Savage

  The Savage Blood

  The Savage Principle

  The Savage Vengeance

  The Savage Protector (available for preorder)

  The Savage Dream (available for preorder)

  Savage Bundle, Books 1-3

  The Blood Series

  (new adult dark supernatural fantasy and paranormal romance):

  Blood Singers

  Blood Song

  Blood Chosen

  Blood Reign (available for preorder)

  *

  The Reflective (The Reflection Series, #1)- 2014