Dark Desires (Dark Romance Boxed Set)

by Cerys du Lys

  It never felt so good.

  CAIN

  With my cock buried inside her and my hand still around her throat, I didn’t even notice that she passed out. All I focused on was the glorious feeling of filling her cunt with my cum. I looked down at her, my arms trembling, and saw her unnaturally still body. I relinquished my hold around her throat. A sharp feeling cut through the ecstasy flowing through my cock.

  “Shit.” I prodded her. “Julia!”

  How long did she lay there, unable to breathe? A jumpy feeling enveloped my body, making me feel sick. As I lowered my lips over hers to breathe life into her, I realized that I didn’t want her to die. It was like having a new toy ripped away too soon. I breathed into her and her chest pulsed.

  Dammit.

  She stirred as I breathed into her a second time. I couldn’t lose her. Not yet. I hovered an inch above her, waiting for her to cry.

  Instead, her deep blue eyes found mine and she smiled.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” Surprisingly, I realized that I meant it.

  I didn’t want to destroy her, I couldn’t get enough of her. I felt like I sampled a dangerous new drug that would make me spiral into addiction. I wanted to do it again—choke her harder, whip her perfect flesh until blood ran down her sides, handcuff her, fuck her.

  She would probably let me. That was the most disturbing and exciting part of it all. No one ever chose out of free will to be with me. Why would they?

  She shrugged and looked at me, still not quite looking like she was alive. I kissed her pretty mouth, waiting to feel something. Kissing felt pleasant to me, like sunbathing, but I didn’t quite understand the allure.

  Julia stroked my body, running her hands over my chest and over my shoulders to grasp my neck and pull me closer. She kissed me, her tiny lips pulling and sucking at mine, devouring me with the same hunger she displayed in the bathroom.

  I don’t understand it, but I love it. I craved her emotion. I could almost feel it.

  She pulled away. “I’m sorry I hit you. That drug made me insane.”

  I smiled, remembering how her right hook caught the side of my face. I had worse. “The effects didn’t last long.”

  I was stunned by how fast she was, how powerful her rage was.

  “It was crazy. Everything slowed down and I felt really pissed off. I wanted to kill you.”

  “I want to try it.”

  Her round eyes told me that she didn’t want me to. “Not around me.”

  We’ll see.

  I rolled off her body and eyed my nightstand. In the drawer was a small bag of coke, which I took out and dumped over a small mirror. I heard the bed move slightly as she lifted herself to see what I was doing. I did a line. My senses were sharper. Rubbing my nose, I handed the mirror to her and she bent over it without hesitation.

  * * *

  When I woke up the next morning, I felt her fingers tracing the dragon tattoo on my chest. My eyes opened to bright sunlight filtering through the shades, over the bed where Julia’s naked body was halfway concealed under the white sheets. I felt her curves pressed against my side and her head lay on my chest.

  Her hair gleamed in the light and I reached up, my fingers threading her hair. Stroking the long tresses, I looked over my new toy. She kissed my chest when she felt me stir and I vividly remembered the feeling of her lips pressed against mine. She lifted her head and smiled at me.

  I didn’t understand this woman, unless everything she did was out of self-preservation.

  I never had an experience like this. I had women in my bed, of course, but they never stayed the night. Certainly, I never woke up with one in my arms. It was fine, I guess. Curious. As usual, my heart beat in my chest like a hollow drum.

  “Morning.”

  She nuzzled my neck and kissed me below my ear. The sensation of her lips on that sensitive area made me drag my nails over her back.

  What the hell does she want from me? Why is she doing this?

  It was driving me nuts that I couldn’t figure her out. “Aren’t you upset about your dead husband?”

  The smile disappeared from her face and I felt satisfied that I could still control her moods.

  “I don’t want to think about it.”

  But her eyes weren’t shining with tears. There was regret but no grief. Suddenly, I considered that maybe I’d finally found someone who was like me.

  “Your behavior doesn’t make fucking sense to me.”

  “I wasn’t happy with him,” she uttered finally.

  She fell to the side of the bed and stared at a point over my shoulder. Her eyes gleamed like sapphires and tears slipped down her flushed face. She was even more beautiful when she cried.

  I swept her into my arms because sometimes this calmed them. I felt stupid for thinking that she might have been like me.

  No, I knew that I would never meet anyone as highly evolved as me. Her arms wrapped around my waist in a vice grip as she flattened her face against my chest. She wasn’t a loud crier and for that I was grateful. I could not fucking stomach the loud, gulping sobs.

  It was so disgusting to watch—so pathetic.

  “I’m sorry,” she moaned.

  I stroked her soft skin, my fingertips trailing from her shoulder to the curve of her hips. “I’ll let you cry. Just this once.”

  She looked at me again when her shaking subsided. “Cain, thank you for saving me. I knew one day they’d find me, but I never thought I’d be spared. It’s all down to you.”

  I never did it for her. I did it for myself. “Julia, if you hadn’t stolen money from the club and I met you around here, I still would have murdered your husband to get you.” I gripped her chin. “And you would still be my little toy.”

  The sleepy happiness disappeared from her face. I shattered her image of me. Good.

  The rest of the morning was a haze of fucking and cocaine. Julia did line after line, and I wondered if it was a mistake to let her. I wasn’t satisfied with what we had. I wanted to break her, but she did whatever I wanted willingly. My hands itched as I drove back to the clubhouse with her arms wrapped around me. I needed to kill something.

  I’ll just push her harder and harder until finally she resists me.

  A part of me wondered why the hell I was so fucked up that I couldn’t just let a woman suck my cock. It was like handing over control to another person. There was nothing wrong with that, it just didn’t excite me. Well, that wasn’t true. It was satisfying in a completely different way, but my need to completely dominate another person was not satisfied.

  “Why are you taking me to the club?”

  Julia’s low voice interrupted my thoughts as I weaved around the countryside towards the clubhouse.

  “Because I don’t trust that you won’t run off.”

  “Cain, where would I go?”

  I knew she had nowhere to go, but I didn’t trust her yet. It didn’t make sense to me. Why would she want to stay here?

  “How am I supposed to clean and cook for you when I’m not at the house?”

  A burst of laughter left my mouth as I throttled forward. “That’s what you want to do?”

  “No,” she admitted, “but I’m your old lady.”

  “I could care less about that shit.”

  I didn’t want an old lady who only knew how to cook and clean. I wanted her because—well, because I wanted to bang her. But it was more than that, now.

  She was a prize that I caught and I was going to keep her. All mine. She was talented and she was going to work for the club. I wanted an equal as my old lady. Someone who would make me look even better.

  Cooking and cleaning. Who the fuck cares? I can do that myself.

  I made her dress in a leather cat suit that she complained was uncomfortable. She looked like sex on legs. The leather stuck to her body like a second skin, exposing the perfect curve of her ass and dipping low enough so that I could lick her gorgeous tits. When she put it on, I got hard and she imme
diately bent to her knees, taking my cock into her little red mouth. I fucked her mouth and made her swallow every drop. Christ, I could feel my cock stiffening just thinking about how hot it had been.

  As we arrived, Spike’s jaw dropped as Julia slid from the bike. I smiled at Spike’s reaction and told her to go inside. We watched her walk inside, her long golden hair bouncing on the patent leather cat suit. He turned to me with a pained look on his face.

  “Jesus Christ. I hope you realize that you don’t deserve that.” He said it with a small smirk to soften the bitterness in his voice.

  “She’s something, isn’t she?”

  I went inside with Spike trailing behind me. I had a feeling that Crash needed me—that the Tigers might retaliate for our little adventure yesterday. My old lady stood near the pool table, smoking a cigarette. I slid next to her and wrapped my arm around her waist. Her body eased into mine and my dick tingled as her ass curved into my body. I could see the eyes of a dozen jealous men watching us. I kissed her, inhaling the smoke furling around her, trying to stamp down my desire to fuck her over the pool table.

  “Stay here. Play pool or help the girls.”

  “Help the girls?” A smile twitched on her face. “I hope you don’t mean to pass me around.”

  My hands twitched as I thought of her straddling another man’s waist. “I’m not the sharing type.”

  “Do you have more blow?”

  Fuck, I was afraid of this. Her red-rimmed eyes stared back at me. “No. You need to learn how to do things in moderation.”

  “Says the guy who enjoys torturing women.”

  I pinched her bubble ass hard enough to make her yelp. “Don’t sass me or I’ll lock you back in the dungeon.”

  The smile evaporated from her face. I didn’t like the way she talked to me. She still feared what I did to her, but she didn’t fear me.

  I remembered her screaming about rats in the cell I locked her inside—rats that never existed. I filed away this important bit of information in my head and walked towards Crash, who sat at the bar.

  He shook his head at me as I sat on the stool. “Hook, line, and sinker,” he growled.

  “What?”

  A grimace stretched over Crash’s face. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger.”

  “Nope,” I said, refusing to be baited, “but I enjoy having her lips wrapped around my cock.”

  The bar exploded with laughter and Crash pounded his fist on the counter. I smiled at the bartender as she passed me a shot of whiskey.

  “Listen,” he said when the laughter died off. “A few of those Tiger fucks trashed one of our pool halls. We need to retaliate. This shit has gone too far.”

  Blood rushed in my ears. “I’m listening.”

  Worried, brown eyes met mine. “I know you went into their territory yesterday, Cain. If you want to get yourself killed, go ahead, but if I find out about you bringing other members into Tiger territory, I’ll pull your head off. You’re my son, but I will do whatever it takes to protect this club.”

  My nostrils flared as I caught the scent of a challenge. I will not back down on this. “You made me the way I am, Crash.”

  I heard nothing but his finger tapping on the wood. He looked—conflicted. “Yeah, and I’ve always been proud of you, Cain.”

  Until now.

  “When you killed that kid—”

  “That was an accident.” I put force behind the words, having learned long ago that murdering children was one line the MC didn’t cross. It didn’t make sense to me. None of their rules did.

  It happened when I was sixteen at school. The children thought I was insane. When I got angry, I threw chairs and screamed filthy insults and stabbed them with sharpened pencils.

  Mild irritation blazed into fury when a boy beat me at a basketball game. His gloating laughter made my mind ferment with all the things I wanted to do to him if I had him alone. Purpose flowed through my limbs when I stalked him to his house. Then I beat him until his legs stopped working in broad daylight. All I used was a glass paperweight I swiped from my teacher’s desk.

  I caved his fucking skull in. It cracked like an eggshell. The small, red chunks of brain splattered over my shirt. The police dropped me in front of Crash’s house, my hands and elbows still stained with his blood. He paid them a shitload of money to keep it under wraps. He beat me until I was black and blue, threatening to “put me down like a dog” if I ever did that again.

  I lied to Crash, I had to in order to save my ass. It wasn’t hard, telling him that the boy attacked me first and bullied me at school. He ate it up.

  “It was no fucking accident. That was the one time I seriously thought about whether I made a mistake. And I’m feeling it again now. I need you to promise me that you’ll stay in line, Cain.”

  I never understood that, either. “I promise.”

  Most people took that phrase as if it was a sacred vow and breaking it was an unspeakable act of evil. Crash’s brown eyes met mine, which watered without blinking for so long.

  I promise not to get caught. It meant nothing to me. I said whatever they wanted to hear to placate them. To make them do things I wanted them to do. When I was a boy, I had insurmountable respect for Crash, but to see him be so easily manipulated made my lips curl with contempt. He was a bug I longed to squash.

  “Go to the Blackjack lounge. Bring someone with you.”

  “Spike,” I said immediately.

  “He’s a good kid.”

  “Yeah, he shows a lot of promise.”

  Crash gave a thoughtful sound and I slammed back the whiskey. Immediately, I wished for something stronger. I patted my jacket and felt the vial still stuck in my pocket. Julia bent over the pool table while being admired by Max.

  Good, she’s already hustling. She straightened and gave me a dutiful kiss as I said goodbye.

  “I’ll be back in a few hours. Max, keep an eye on her.”

  “All right.”

  Her lips pursed at the idea she needed to be watched, but she turned around and resumed the game anyway. My legs moved faster, taking me outside to that wild abandon on the road.

  I spotted the curly haired prospect outside, playing soccer with one of the member’s kids. Another thing I didn’t get. Kids. I never had much patience for them.

  “Spike! Stop fucking around and join me.”

  He shot me a glare that would have earned him a swift kick if it had been anyone else. “Cain, watch it!”

  He covered the little blonde boy’s ears as the child giggled. “Sorry, gotta go,” he whispered as he uncovered one ear.

  “Nooo! Don’t go!” The boy pouted and swung his fat fists as Spike walked towards his bike.

  “We’ll play later.”

  I climbed on my bike, the chrome burning my skin from the glare of the sun and felt that purposeful, murderous calm. I needed to amp myself up. Usually, I did that with coke, but I was sick to death of blow. I kept thinking about Julia’s crazy face when she was high on Red.

  We blasted out of the gates and I led the way towards Blackjack lounge, a shitty dive bar in Northwest Victoria. I never really drove through Northwest Victoria, but whenever I did I reminded myself why I never went there.

  The streets crumbled and plastic bags floated gracefully down the streets. Abandoned buildings stood like ghosts, their contents pilfered, copper wiring gutted, windows smashed, black graffiti covering their walls. They were so empty that they almost looked transparent. Gunshots punctuated the air occasionally. It was a violent place that I wanted to seize control of eventually.

  Blackjack lounge stood like a dilapidated fortress among all the urban decay. Degenerates flocked inside its doors to waste the money they scraped together to get a drink. Ratty-looking bouncers kept the worst of the riffraff outside.

  If I could, I would burn it down. What a shitty place.

  “Jesus, what a depressing place,” Spike said as we passed by.

  “Don’t let your guard down.” Th
e place was rife with gangbangers eager to pop anyone wearing colors. Two Tigers stood guard with 20-gauge shotguns at the door. One blast at close range and I was dead.

  I thought about the grenade stashed in my bike. I could easily lob it inside and speed away as it erupted in flames, killing everyone inside. But that was so impersonal. I liked savoring all the emotions on someone’s face as they died.

  “This seems stupid. There are probably at least six or seven Tigers in there. How the fuck are we going to take them?”

  “With this,” I said as I dangled Red from my pocket.

  I made my decision as we parked our bikes a block down. Reckless, Crash’s voice said inside my head. Spike was silent as I dropped the liquid in my eyes. It burned slightly. I offered it to him, but he shook his head.

  “I don’t do drugs.”

  “Suit yourself.” Blinking away the redness, I grabbed the shotgun from my bike and strode into the sunlight.

  Spike shouted something to me from behind, but I bounded forward. My legs seemed to move slowly. I jumped over a deep crack in the sidewalk and the man guarding the pool hall turned his head, his white body twisted, his shotgun swinging like the arm of a clock. I cocked my gun and blasted the motherfucker.

  He flew backwards with red sprinkled on his flawless shirt. I wondered for a moment if my gun didn’t work. The ground exploded in front of me and shards of something sliced into my body.

  “FUCK!”

  A distorted blast exploded into my ears from behind me. I almost wanted to turn around and shoot, but then the other guard fell, and Spike ran across his body. Jesus, what the fuck was wrong with me? A sharp movement, I raised and pulled the trigger without thinking. Another white body fell outside.

  Somehow, pain registered in my rat brain and my chest felt like a barrel of fury. It was so much more potent. Unfocused. I could shoot Spike if he looked at me the wrong way. It was crazy, but I was in awe of it. Is this what people feel all the time?

  I felt oddly jumpy. A car roared past and the metallic gleam frightened me, reminding me of explosions. I turned around and shot—hearing a woman scream as the passenger windows shattered. It blasted out of there.