HURRICANE (Beasts of Prey Book 2)

by LC Lehesaho

  "What the—" I breathe out, but he cuts me off, placing the blade flat against my lips.

  "Shh, baby," Tiger whispers, blood flowing from his hand. The dripping hand comes to my neck, fingers curling around it, and he gives me a slight squeeze. He turns the knife pointing up in his hand, so it doesn't touch me as he threads his fingers into my hair. "If you want to be mine, you keep your mouth shut, okay?"

  I nod again. My heart goes one hundred miles per hour because I have no fucking clue what's happening. Tiger totally managed to get me off guard, but I know I'm up for it whatever he decides to do.

  And like hearing my thoughts, his blood dripping hand slides down to my breast and strokes it the way that coaxes moans out of me. Shivers of pleasure ride over me, and a needy gasp escapes from my mouth as he nudges my thighs apart, taking his hand down, straight inside my laces.

  My eyes flutter close in ecstasy as his fingers glide on my wetness, making my legs quiver underneath me.

  "Open your eyes," Tiger says in a hoarse voice, dipping his fingers inside me. I don't know how many, and I don't fucking care, because all I know is it feels damn good and when he teases my clit with his thumb, I'm ready to combust. Still, I manage to do as he says and meet his heated eyes.

  He is so breathtakingly handsome it only boosts my oncoming climax.

  "Who do you belong to, Cobra?"

  "You," I whimper out between panting, bucking my hips harder against his hand. I'm so fucking close I want to cry.

  "Say my name."

  I moan it out as I come around his fingers. Every bone in my body has suddenly turned to marshmallow, and I hold onto the counter to stay up, head in the euphoric clouds.

  "You're so fucking beautiful when you come," Tiger purrs and brings his hand up from my panties. "Open your mouth."

  I blink at him, stunned, and stare at the two fingers he holds up for me, covered with his blood and my juices.

  That's all I do. Stare.

  "Open your fucking mouth, baby girl. You belong to me and I'll bind myself to you, so do as I say." His voice is as smooth as ever, even if it's not a request of any kind. Slowly, I do as he orders, and those fingers end up deep into my mouth. The metallic taste of his blood is mixed with the sweetness of me. "Suck it, beautiful."

  This time I don't question him, I hollow my cheeks, sucking his fingers clean. The admiration on Tiger's face is touchable as he looks down at me through his long lashes. When he pulls his fingers out of my mouth, his hand takes my right hand to his, and without warning, he cuts my palm open—making me bleed.

  The sting of pain flashes through me, but I don't flinch. I've been trained better than that. But still, the element of surprise makes my brows pop up, and I open my mouth to speak, but before I get a word out, I remember.

  And close my mouth, not saying shit. I'm his.

  Tiger brings my palm to his mouth, licking the length of the cut. It stings, but I don't care. His mouth comes to mine, making me taste my own blood now. He threads our fingers together, the wounds in our palms against each other. I open up to him, welcoming his tongue to play with mine.

  There's nothing else in the world than us.

  Just the way it's supposed to be.

  I feel the blade on my hips, cutting the sides of my laces open, so they drop to the ground. Then a clanging sound as the knife goes to the table, and when his towel disappears from between us, I'm ready to go again.

  I want everything he can give and more.

  Tiger wraps his arm around my waist, keeping the other one linked to mine and kissing me without distraction the entire time, but still manages to haul me up to the counter. I'm pulsating from the need to feel him inside me, so I wrap my legs around him, pulling him close. Not wasting a second, he thrusts into me. It would hurt if I wouldn't have one orgasm under the belt already because he's so fucking big.

  "Fuck, baby," Tiger growls against my lips, as I moan from the satisfaction. "I love you."

  My heart swells out of my chest, and I feel tears pouring down my cheeks. "I love you too, so fucking much."

  He must have felt them because every move stops, and he leans back, looking at me with worry clouding his features. "Cobra? Why are you crying?"

  I try to blink the tears away, letting out a sobbing laugh. "I'm just so happy that I have you."

  A beaming smile makes his whole face lit up, and his eyes shine brighter than the sun. "Vice versa, baby." At that, Tiger starts to move. I hang on to him for my dear life because there's nothing gentle in the way he fucks me into oblivion. It's hard, rough, and unapologetic.

  I love it.

  His hand, which is gripping my waist to keep me in my place, probably leaves bruises on my skin, and there's blood all over me, all over him, but this is precisely the way I needed it to be now.

  This is us, and there's no way I can remember anyone else after this.

  When I feel him coming closer to the finish line, my body bursts from the sensation, how good he feels inside me, and I come the second time, chanting his name. He's instantly with me when my walls clench around him, and fills me up, growling against my neck.

  After a moment, Tiger leans back, brushing a strand behind my ear. "We're tied to each other, always been and always will be. I promise I won't let anything bad happen to you again." He sweeps his lips over mine, pressing our brows together. "Nothing can tear us apart, even if I have to take us to Hell to be together, okay, baby?"

  "I know, love." I caress the back of his neck with my fingers, feeling better than in a long time. "And I'll be by your side whatever it takes."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  I can hear the music, "Under Your Scars" by Godsmack, out to the balcony as I watch Cobra through the glass. She's sleeping on the couch, tucked under the blanket with black sheets. Her hair is flowing over the armrest, almost reaching the floor. Even though I love her no matter her hair color, I think she should go back to the pink. It might help her feel at home.

  Blowing a thick cloud of smoke out of my lungs, I think about the pills she said she'll agree to take. It might be a good idea, but something bothers me about it, and I don't fucking know what. The sense of foreboding tickles my skin and makes my bones cold, and it pisses the shit out of me that I can't find a reason.

  We found the mole, so it's perfectly safe to live in the mansion, and Wolf and Falcon are working with Pronto Muerte to find Crusador. What's the most amazing thing is that even when Cobra felt sick again, she's now still smiling in her sleep. So, everything should be going in the right direction. Maybe I'm thinking too fucking much.

  I take another long drag of smoke, filling my lungs more with than enough, and scrub a hand over my face. The sting on the now bandaged wound makes my eyes shift to her hand. There's a bandage too, which I put on her before she did the same to me. Her hands are palms against each other under her cheek as she sleeps sideways, looking peaceful. There are no worry lines on her forehead, only a blissful smile on her sensual lips. It makes my heart swell, filling every inch of me.

  I managed to make her feel better. I got that smile on her face.

  Fuck, it feels good.

  Better than anything else in the world.

  Multiple ideas start to spin in my head on how to keep her smiling, and I pull the phone from my sweats' pocket, placing the cig between my lips. I scroll the screen to find the one thing I need. She's gonna love it.

  Movement on my left catches my attention, and a quick look reveals Puma, who is jumping over the railing from his balcony to Cobra's and closing to mine. I focus back on my mission and finish it before he comes next to me, leaning his ass to the railing like me.

  "What's up? She's sleeping again?" he asks, looking straight at her, so what a fucking dumb question was that.

  "No, she's just lying there with her eyes closed for no good reason," I retort, blowing a cloud of smoke out.

  Puma shrugs. "Who knows, that's what I do on my couch."

  It’s actually true but doesn't end
on his couch. The lazy fucker does it everywhere.

  "Yeah, well, whatever. Cobra was ill again, but not as long as yesterday. She still needs to rest," I tell him, sticking the butt to the ashtray. After taking a bath together to get all the blood off and eating breakfast, she started to throw up. But she didn't sweat like yesterday, so I think it's a sign the withdrawals are easing. Or this is just an easier phase, but I hope fucking not.

  "She looks happy now," Puma notes, and his lips curve up into a smile before he abruptly frowns. "What happened to her hand?" He turns to look at me just when I swipe my hair back, and his eyes glue to the bandage on mine. "Wait, what? You hurt your hand too? How?"

  I keep my face straight, even though the mere thought of how we got these makes my dick grow hard. Apparently, all the times I wanted to fuck her these past years—basically, every day—are piled up, and now when I've had a taste... I'm addicted. Just like in everything else, she's the poison, the drug I crave, and the antidote at the same time. I can't even imagine I'd be with anyone else other than her ever again.

  She's the only one for me in every fucking way.

  I turn my eyes from her to Puma. "You don't need to know, and I'm sure you don't even want to."

  He leans further from me, eyeing me suspiciously. "Is this some kinky shit you've been doing again?"

  "Why does everyone think I have a thing for kinky shit?"

  "Wait, give me a month, and I'll write you a book about all the shit you've been doing the past years." He rolls his deep blue eyes at me, bouncing the lighter in his hand. "Only thing separating you from Bear is that you have a soul and keep your trash in your closet, not spreading it around for everyone to see."

  I open my mouth to answer, but Puma slaps his palm to my shoulder with a smirk. "And you're a good guy, bro. If your kinks make her smile like that, then I'm okay with it."

  "Oh, for fucks sake, whatever." I shrug my shoulder to get his hand off me and cross my arms on my chest. He is not entirely wrong, but I don't have a thing. It's just who I am. Apparently, it's one of the marks years of abuse leaves on a person.

  But Puma doesn't know a fuck about it, and he will never know.

  "Hey, man, I had an actual reason why I came by. Wait, I need to think." He snaps his fingers repeatedly, trying to remember something. It's not just the slightly drowsy look in his eyes telling me he's been smoking after he left here when I got back from the run, but also, he has a hard time finding the right bush. It happens every time. Clearly, there is more than one bush in his head, and he unwittingly beats around all of them, trying to find the right one to jump into.

  "Yeah, right." I turn to the door. "Summon a demon to tell me the message ‘cause I'll be six feet under long before you find out what it was."

  "Haha, very funny. Just wait for a second, it's right on the tip of my tongue." He keeps snapping those goddamn fingers, annoying the shit out of me. I wait, but turn my eyes to Cobra, trying to find some patience from her sleeping figure.

  Of course, it helps like always.

  She is so fucking cute, snuggling under the black blanket on my couch. Another magnificent idea pops into my head, creeping a smile to my face. I'm gonna make her the happiest girl in the world. Or I hope she likes my ideas as much as I do. Cobra has a weird way of turning me into an optimistic sucker.

  Finally, Puma throws his hands in the air in victory. "Yes! So, Dad called and told me to tell you we're having a family dinner tonight."

  I cock an eyebrow. "Why didn't he call me?"

  "That leads to another thing." He smirks like an idiot. "I told him I could tell you ‘cause I was stopping by anyway."

  Satan give me strength. I make a motion with my hand in the air, urging him to go on. "And the reason for stopping by is?"

  "I ran out of cigarettes, so I can't roll a joint. Give me one, bro." Puma plants his hand in front of me, palm up.

  I pick up the pack from my pocket, smacking it to his hand, and give him a look. "Stop smoking that shit, I can literally see your brain cells fading away."

  "They're not fading away, they're taking a vacay." He grins, jumping over the railing to Cobra's balcony. "Dinner at six, bro."

  When I take hold of the doorknob, my skin tickles as I realize it's our first family dinner as a couple.

  I never thought I'd be nervous about it, but here I fucking am, a hoard of bats in my stomach. Maybe I need to eat my words and crawl to Puma to smoke myself cool.

  Holy fuck.

  ~

  "Tell me, where are we going?" Cobra tries to fish the information out of me. Again. She's been doing it since I told her to get dressed ten minutes ago.

  "I'm not gonna tell you." I laugh at her annoyed face when we get to her bedroom. "Otherwise, it wouldn't be a surprise."

  I jump to lay on her bed, resting my hands behind my head and watch as she jerks the wardrobe door open. Scowling at me the entire time, before turning to pick up a pair of navy-blue sweats with three white stripes on the side. She throws them to wait on the bed and continues her search. The next one is a white hoodie that lands next at my feet. When she turns her back at me and starts to go through her shelves, I snitch the clothes and place them under my head as a pillow. I've done this a million times over the years, teasing her in any given chance.

  When I think about it, it's a fucking mystery on why I didn't start to make moves on her until a couple of years ago.

  It took me three years to gather the courage to let her know how I really feel about her. Test the waters on how she reacts, and then one day, I did it. There was a fundraising gala for the University on that night—a lame excuse for rich snobs gathering in one place to compare the numbers on their bank accounts and sizes of their dicks. And because Leo is one of the richest and influential guys in the city, he is invited everywhere. He hates those events as much as I do, but in his words, we need to learn how to stay on top of the food chain. I never focused on anything else other than Cobra and keeping all the scumbags away from her.

  "How about this?" Cobra asks, waving a beige dress at the end of the bed. It looks more like a little shirt made of lace.

  Keeping the phone in my hand, as if I would actually be interested in it, I look at her, cocking an eyebrow. "Is it like a part of the outfit or what?"

  "No, dumbass! It's a dress!" She rolls her eyes, placing it on the bed in a pile she considers as options. "I like it." Then she turns back to the wardrobe, searching more.

  I lift myself from her bed, just enough I can reach to grab it and toss it on top of the pillow mountain behind me, where there are already a couple of dresses she certainly won't be wearing. I lean my back against them, pretending to look at my phone. I don't. Instead, I watch how gracefully her pink hair floats to her lower back. Those long strands gather all the light in the room, glowing in a way that calls me to get up and touch them. I don't.

  "The last one." Cobra spins around, momentarily frozen as she catches my stare. She recovers quickly, placing the dress on the bed. "I won’t even ask your opinion, ‘cause I know this is the one."

  "Then it better be appropriate, worm," I tell her, watching as she pushes her shorts down. The oversized t-shirt still covers her thighs—shame.

  "If you could decide, you’d make me wear a hazmat suit," she chuckles, pulling the white dress up under her shirt. Only when it covers her big tits, she pulls the t-shirt off. My heartbeat is faster than a machine gun, and the way the pearly fabric licks her figure makes me swallow.

  "Well, yeah." I tear my eyes from her body to her face, while she adjusts the dress. It's strapless, but her bras' white straps go over her shoulders, and she snaps them open from the front. It's hard to keep focus on what I was saying. "There's shit tons of dirty motherfuckers who will be looking at you in a way they fucking shouldn't."

  Her hazel eyes sparkles as she grins. "It's fun to wear something else other than jeans and feel pretty for a change, so I don't care how they're looking at me. I don't dress up for them." She waves her hand, c
alling me closer before turning around, back towards me. "I need help. Take the straps off and close the zipper, will you?"

  "Who are you dressing up for then?" The words drop out of my mouth before I can stop it.

  I can see her shoulders tensing and stays quiet for a little bit too long. "No one."

  Moving to the edge of the bed, I'm happy her back is against me, so she doesn't see when I need to adjust myself in my slacks. I place my legs on either side of her and try to keep myself in control when she wipes her hair to the front, revealing her gorgeous back. The dress hung open all the way to her lower back, and her soft tanned skin calls me to glide my fingers on it. On her. My breath picks up the speed as I lift my hands, but I stop mid-air. Staring at them—trembling as they did years ago—makes me bite my cheek. No. That's not me anymore.

  It stops as fast as it has begun, and with steady hands, I take hold of the zipper and pull it up. I slip the straps off her bras while getting up, making sure I maintain a space between us. The vanilla scent of her shampoo floats to my nose, sending euphoric waves over me. I want to touch her so much it's fucking killing me. It's not like I haven't touched her. But only as a friend. As a brother.

  But that's not the way I really want to touch her.

  I lift my hand before I can back off and call it yet another, not right moment. Sliding it on her silky hair to her front, I feel how she wires up from the sudden touch, but I don't stop. I need to let her know.

  She needs to know I'm here for her.

  That I am an option too.

  Folding my fingers around her throat gently, I lean closer and skim my lips down the rim of her ear and place a kiss behind it, her velvety skin feeling like heaven under my lips. Cobra sucks in a breath, swallowing hard under my palm.

  But she doesn't move away.

  I'm not forcing her to stay, but she does. It brings a smile to my face, and I can't help myself, but I place another kiss before whispering into her ear. "You don't need fancy dresses, worm. You're beautiful just the way you are."