by Lola White
She would be a good Mother.
Tulah spun, jogging off with her tail held high, ears swiveling to collect sound. She looked neither left nor right as she made her way toward the steps leading to the third floor. Her thoughts were consumed by how to aid the Davenolds, knowing it would be to her advantage as well.
Adam had promised to protect her. Tulah hoped it was enough, but it wouldn’t stop her from trying to gain a similar promise from his cousin and Silviu. Tulah could use all the help she could get, especially since she’d abandoned the plan her mother favored. The best way to back Georgie and Silviu into the right corner would be to give them all the information she could gather and make them indebted to her.
A few rooms before the stairwell, a door swung open. Her room. Tulah slowed. Her mother stepped past the door, shooting a quick look toward the stairs rising to the upper floor as she beckoned Tulah inside.
“Come in here. Where have you been? I was worried.”
Tulah darted into the room.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Adam
Instinct urged Adam to pause and evaluate the situation as the cat darted up the hall in front of him. It was black, like Tulah’s pet, but there was something different about it. Not quite right—an unshakeable feeling that he was missing something. He never ignored that feeling.
A door opened. Adam stopped with his foot on the top step, holding his breath as he pulled his magic to him, cloaking himself to avoid notice. There was no need. A woman with delicate Asian features leaned out, looking in the opposite direction from him as the cat veered toward her. The woman never looked his way.
There was a telltale lack of noise coming from the other side of the door when he reached it, which could only mean they’d used a silencing spell. Intrigued enough to let his magic rise, Adam popped the spell like a bubble—a laughably easy feat, the magical strength behind it far weaker than his own. Whoever cast the spell had just enough juice to get it done, and none of the talent to make it hold firm.
“Were you in the Davenold Mother’s suite? Are you all right?” An unfamiliar voice coasted from the room, heavily tinged with a British accent. “How is it going with Adam?”
He froze, suspicion rooting him in place. His ears strained for an answer, but it wasn’t the one he’d expected.
“Damn it, Tulah! Change your form and answer me. Is he any closer to caring for you? It’s our only chance. You do realize that, don’t you?”
Adam’s eyes narrowed, he leaned closer to the door, pressing his ear flush against the wood. Ice crept down his spine, stealing his ability to breathe properly before numbness locked around him.
“Tulah! Don’t just sit there staring at me. Have you had sex with him? You haven’t let Constance get her claws into him again, have you? I told you to watch her. You have to play her game better than her, to win him to your side.”
Betrayal brought physical pain, knife-sharp and slicing deep. Adam shoved it down, surprised at its ferocity, but didn’t attempt to stop it from feeding his anger. Nausea roiled. For a heartbeat, his blood boiled, then it froze in chunks that clogged his veins. Icy emotion, beyond his ability to define, spiraled from his gut to his skull. He stopped trying to identify what he felt and simply gave it free rein, instead.
He threw open the door in time to see a shimmering distortion surround the black cat. The animal melted in reverse, gaining mass and height until Tulah stood naked before him. The unfamiliar woman whirled to face him, her long hair whipping out around her shoulders as her mouth dropped.
“Adam!” Tulah took a step forward and lifted her hand. Her shocked face showed everything he needed to know—her guilt and shame, her regret and sorrow. The apology was glowing in her eyes, but he refused to accept it. Refused to admit to its presence.
His head pounded but his voice didn’t waver. It was too low and mean for that. “Tell her your opinion, Tulah. Do you think your pussy was enough to trap me?”
“That’s not—”
He cut her off. “Better women than you have tried it, baby doll. More talented, more experienced. Women that know exactly how to make a man melt, how to make him cry with the pleasure. Did you think you actually stood a chance against that? Do you have any idea how many women I’ve fucked?”
The ice was starting to crack. Fast, and Adam was usually better at controlling his emotions. Rage engulfed him. Twin knives stabbed him in the back and twisted in his gut. Bitterness danced in his skull, reminding him that he was merely a stepping stone to greatness, a tool and nothing more.
“Women throw themselves at my feet,” he snarled. “They throw themselves in my bed and they throw themselves on my dick. I have my choice, and I could snap my fingers in the fucking dining room downstairs and have another ten women lined up to take your place in a minute. All of them eager to please me in ways you’ve never dreamed of, ways you don’t have the creativity to compete with. You have to do better than a fucking sob story about your dead daddy to catch me.”
Tears gathered in Tulah’s eyes but she blinked them back. She shook her head until her halo of hair became a moving cloud framing her features. “No, it wasn’t like that. I just needed help getting out of here. Away from Graves but—”
“And you couldn’t simply ask.” Adam prowled the room, looking Tulah over, front and back, forcing derision to fill his eyes and overflow into his words. He glanced at her pale-faced mother and felt his lips thin with disgust. “Pimping your daughter out. No better than Graves, are you? Your whole fucking Family is eyeballs deep in the sex trade, and the only female you all have to barter is Tulah.”
“That is not true,” the woman said. Her chin shot up, her fists clenched at her sides. “We just needed a way out.”
“So you tried to sell her to me, but I’m not in the market for a whore.” He circled Tulah again. She raised her hands to cover her body but he barked out a command. “Let me take another look at the wares, baby doll. It’s not like I haven’t seen it before.”
Tulah’s face flushed darkly and pain flashed in her beautiful caramel eyes. Adam couldn’t afford to care. He squelched the whisper of remorse and kept pushing, striking out until her pain equaled his.
He was a master of words. They were his weapons of choice, the only thing at his disposal, and he used the sharpest in his arsenal, to both lash her and purge his ire. Adam barely heard himself as he ripped apart Tulah’s character and her mother’s, and verbally spit on her father’s grave.
It didn’t help. The betrayal continued to tear him apart, the anger continued to haze his vision. His muscles burned, his throat tasted sour. He felt suckered by a delicate face, a fragile composure. Her vulnerability had slammed through his barriers and touched the core of him that demanded he protect. She’d wriggled deeper than any other woman ever had, hurt him worse than any other woman ever could.
She was no better than the rest of them, and worse than most. A least their treachery was an open secret, not hiding behind a heart-twisting defenselessness and a sweet surrender to his needs.
Tulah’s mother grew bold. Between his insults, she hurled angry explanations—their powerlessness, their hopelessness, their treatment and their desperation. Adam already understood why they’d charted their course, but he could have helped without Tulah climbing into his bed. Without the pain of her dishonesty.
He grabbed Tulah, hauled her naked back against his chest. He taunted her mother, glaring at her, appalled with himself but letting his anger force his hand around Tulah’s throat. His stomach gave a kick of protest, but he brutally killed his reservations.
He slid his palm down Tulah’s chest, much like Graves had done so often. “You’ll make her my pet, will you?”
Her mother exploded. Hate burned in her eyes as she crossed the room in a blur. Her nails raked his forearm, he tightened his hold on Tulah, instinctively jerking her back from the attack. The other woman screeched and slapped, trying to angle around her daughter to reach him.
“Stop
, Mama!” Tulah’s voice was filled with pain, but emerged strong enough for the command to do its job. “Get out.”
“Tulah!”
“Go, Mama!”
Adam pasted a devilish smirk on his face just to taunt the woman further. She didn’t take the bait, but if looks could kill he would have combusted on the spot. She backed toward the door, opening it even as her form dissolved into a smaller shape. A cat jumped from the tangle of her dress and disappeared into the hall.
Adam waved a hand, his magic slammed the door closed. He spun away from Tulah as a fresh wave of fury ate his insides. Guilt was thrown into the volatile mix, but the pain drowned it all.
“Want to sell me a new sob story, then?”
Tulah swiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to for any of this, Adam. Please believe me. I only wanted help, and you weren’t real to me when my mother suggested—”
“Real. And after you met me, after you fucked me? I was still a cardboard cutout?”
“No.” She shook her head, stepped toward him. “Please, tell me how to fix this. This isn’t what I wanted.”
“Fix it?” Rage snarled in his skull and took control of his tongue. “Get on your fucking knees and do your job, pet. Maybe sucking my dick can fix it.”
Tulah dropped to her knees.
The cold anger streaking through Adam grew icicles and stabbed him in the heart. The crimson haze impairing his vision flickered out, bringing the world a clarity that hurt to witness even as lust erupted in his cock and poured shame over his burning wounds. His throat closed with the strain of the anger he fought to contain.
Adam spun on his heel and walked away.
“No!”
Her scream shot past him, echoing off the door as he reached for the knob. Her weight catapulted into his back, sending him crashing into the barrier. He turned in surprise and the ice inside him melted under a blaze of heat.
“You won’t go like this,” Tulah raged into his face. “You won’t leave me until you understand how much I want you. You! I don’t give a fuck about your Family, I don’t give a damn if Graves kills me. I… I…”
She clutched at his shirt, hauled herself to her toes and smashed her lips to his. She pressed until the edge of her teeth caught his lip, grinding their mouths together. Small, painful fissures snaked across Adam’s heart and threatened his control.
He jerked back. “I can’t afford your price.”
“I don’t want anything,” she sobbed. “Nothing. I’m sorry, please. You don’t even have to help me. Just—”
Her mouth attacked his, fighting him for entry. Her tongue surged past his lips in a hard thrust that demolished his senses and shattered his control completely. Her taste mingled with the leftover fury filling his throat. She kissed him roughly, hard and fast, a caress that demanded raw sex now.
He elected to give it to her.
Adam wrested control of the kiss and dominated, trying to force her submission with his lips. Tulah refused. Her mouth consumed his, teeth scraping, tongue flicking and licking and reaching farther. She was melded to his chest, twisting against him, the hard points of her naked, berry-dark nipples stabbing through his shirt. Her fingernails buried themselves in his nape.
He was battered by the force of too many emotions to count. They all collided, roiled together, seeking wide-scale destruction, lashing, whipping and provoking Adam past his ability to slow or stop. His hands were hard as they ironed down Tulah’s body, depressing skin and muscle, clutching her close.
He pulled her nipples, rolled them between his fingers until a ragged sound ripped from her throat. His fingers locked around the mounds, kneading for his pleasure more than hers. He drove his hands lower, blatantly proclaiming his possession of her body, boldly taunting her with what he could do to her.
Adam touched Tulah as if she were his pet, his to do with what he pleased. His fingers pressed between her folds with violent intent, pinching her clit, driving toward her pussy. She went to her toes, he took his hand away with a suddenness that had her growling and sent his other hand skimming between the globes of her ass, spreading her cheeks and stretching the delicate flesh they hid.
There was no gentleness. Adam didn’t have it in him. He pulled her closer, until the pressure of her body against his brought a pain that matched the one in his heart. Her bones dug into him but he dragged her closer still, grabbing handfuls of her plump ass to lift her higher. She arched against him, driving his fabric-covered cock between her legs.
Lust snarled and grew teeth, then attacked Adam’s gut and murdered his chivalry.
Blood flooded his dick and set it on fire. His groin throbbed, his balls pulsed. Agony rolled over him and pumped him like a fist, seizing and squeezing his cock until it was more than rigid. An iron baton that needed to punish with pleasure.
Adam ripped away from Tulah, grabbed her arm and tossed her toward the bed. He was on her in a flash, before she even reached the mattress, his vision narrowing until the only thing he saw was her smooth back as he bent her over and pushed her down. He laid his full weight against her, his palm sliding up her spine with uncontrolled force.
He grabbed Tulah’s hair and turned her head until her cheek lay against the mattress. Adam leaned over her shoulder and conquered her mouth again, diving deep with no finesse. He bit her, sucked her lip unmercifully She had the audacity to meet him rather than surrender.
He tore at his waistband, snarling as the rigid length of him leaped toward freedom. He was so hard he had to pull his dick from his abdomen, his fist around the base, forcing it down to find Tulah’s heat. He didn’t bother pushing his trousers down.
Adam thrust into her with one quick motion. Driving and driven, he didn’t stop until he hit the end of her, until he was buried deep enough to lose his fabric-covered balls between her ass cheeks. Her pussy enfolded him in scalding softness but the soul-scraping friction of his entry chomped on his sanity.
Her body hadn’t been ready for him.
Pressure and heat squeezed up his spine and shot into his skull, robbing him of thought and breath. Sheer pleasure mangled both his principles and his honor. He’d never felt anything like it—to feel it again became imperative, necessary to function, to live. To forgive. But his anger had sat back just enough to let a cool stream of rationality worm its way past the betrayal.
Just a little, nowhere near enough.
Adam managed to push his hand between Tulah’s body and the mattress before he pulled out. She whimpered and groaned, her mouth growing passive under his. She flinched as he withdrew and so did he, her tight channel clamping down on him, holding him prisoner as he forced his own freedom. The drag of her tissues over him, the compression of her muscles, was too much, yet not enough.
Just right.
He pinched her clit and drove back in. Tulah moaned. He didn’t know if he’d hurt her, and wasn’t about to ask, but her body gave way to his with a surrender that had his cock pulsing. He couldn’t even breathe, let alone form words to ask how she was—not with her pussy sucking him back in, tucking close and flexing around his width. Not while his pain still subjugated his ability to care.
He reached her limits and pushed harder. Her ass cheeks molded to his groin and thighs, cushioning him, enfolding him, squeezing his balls. Adam closed his eyes, pulled his mouth from hers and breathed. Pushed harder. Rocking, rocking—forcing an undeniable pressure in the deepest part of him, the head of his cock sliding against the smoothest surface man could know. Satin and silk and pure fucking fire.
Adam had the extreme pleasure of feeling Tulah liquefy around him and flood with slick honey. He felt it well up from within her, slide against his cock and heat the hard length of him to impossible degrees. Her inner walls melted around him even as they began to spasm. The back of his neck contracted brutally, the base of his spine threatened to shatter.
The world dissolved. There was nothing but Tulah, her heat, her pussy. There was nothing but her satin s
kin, her hot mouth and her plump ass arching back to slam into his thighs. Adam rode her hard, she struggled to ride him back. He plunged into her, pulling the cream from her depths until his dick gleamed and her ass was slippery against his skin. She shifted her legs, rose onto her toes and cocked her hips, pushing back to take him when he returned.
Adam’s spine unhinged. His hips rocketed forward, his cock shuttled deep. His fingers rubbed her clit, harder and harder, as she lifted for him and sank back down to grind against his hand. Plunging and ramming, he drove them both on as sweat plastered his shirt to his spine, exorcising the pain and the anger, pouring them into her and forcing her to change them into pleasure.
Hot and hard and fast. She cried and screamed, her breath panting over his lips, her head pulling against the hold he maintained on her hair. Her pupils consumed the caramel in her eyes until Adam was lost in their darkness. Tulah’s body twisted, her legs tensed and her ass bounced. She grew hotter, wetter, tighter.
Then she exploded, every contraction of her pussy wringing pleasure from Adam’s cock. He felt her ripple up his entire length as he slammed back in and pushed against her gripping walls. He couldn’t get deep enough, he couldn’t get close enough. His balls detonated and heat ripped through his groin, tearing at his dick until the aching head erupted.
He lost his mind, his reason, his resolve. He existed in a void for an endless moment, nothing but his pleasure and Tulah’s heat surviving the darkness that stole his sight. Emotions snarled and shifted shape as rationality and concern for her charged in and battled them all back.
Tulah went limp beneath him. Adam’s heart hammered against his ribs and his lungs folded inside out. Cold terror dripped down his spine, illness clutched at his diaphragm. He wrenched from Tulah’s body and threw himself on his back at her side.
He didn’t touch her. He tried to close his eyes and escape that way, until his legs stopped being limp noodles and he could force them to carry his weight from the room, but nightmarish scenes were etched on the interior of his eyelids. The knowledge of his actions was a sour spill in his skull, a dark creature taunting him with vicious accusations. He stared at the ceiling in stony silence and forced oxygen into his body.