The Drazen World: Torn (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Torn #1)

by D. B. Canavan

  “Fuck – oh god – off.” I grip his hair harshly, making him growl with appreciation.

  “Fine have it your way.” He grabs my wrists trapping them against the wall. Ripping my shirt open, buttons silently scattering on the carpet. He grunts with appreciation as his hooded eyes roam my tits. “Princess, you’re stunning,” his mouth locks around my nipple, sucking and biting it to a peak.

  My back arches off the wall, “Oh God Johnathan, please.” I thrust, grinding my now dripping core against his hard length, cursing his pants. “Please Johnathan.”

  “I wanna know who this asshole is.” He flattens his tongue as he runs it down the swell of my breast toward my other nipple. “Tell me, and I’ll fuck you.” The tip of his tongue softly traces my nipple, flicking it gently.

  “Johnathan.” I pant. With each flick of his tongue my clit aches with need. “Oh god, yeah.” I moan.

  “You are so fucking responsive. I bet you’re wet and ready, aren’t you Princess.” His teeth sink into my nipple, sending sharp pulses of pain and pleasure flooding my snatch. “Fuck.” He grunts, “I can smell you.” Releasing my wrists, he roughly cups my ass, hauling me against his chest. I wrap my legs around his waist, as our lips hungrily twist together.

  I gasp when my back hits the hard surface of his desk, and he thrusts his tongue deep in my mouth. “First you’re going to give me his name. Then I’m going to make you beg. Then princess, I’m going to fuck you.” He stands and unbuckles his belt. Pulling it roughly free, the tip snaps sharply against my inner thigh.

  “Ah God.” I try to sit up, grabbing for his zipper only to be forced back, my hands bound at the wrist with his belt. “Now princess. I’m going to get the information I want, then I’m going to fuck this guy out of your system.” His fingers wrap in my lace, ripping my thong from my body. “So fucking wet.” His thumb roughly circling my clit.

  “Oh Jesus.” I whimper, rolling my hips, trying to satisfy the ache that’s raging between my legs.

  Suddenly his fingers are gone. “Don’t stop.”

  “Don’t worry princess, I’m just getting started.” He leans over my body, running his hands over my curves, admiring and adoring. “You are truly gorgeous.” Sinking to his knees, he nips and sucks his way down my stomach and over my mound. “I’ve wanted to taste you, princess, since I met you.” He flattens his tongue, running it the length of my opening. “So fucking sweet.” Sucking my clit harshly, he thrusts his tongue through my folds. Pinning my hips to the desk, he opens me with his thumbs. I sit up trying to reach for his head. “Keep your hands above you head, or I won’t let you come.” His teeth nip the inside of my thigh.

  I pray for relief, as a long needy groan fills the room. “Please.”

  Lapping at my center, his strong finger trace my entrance. My hips buck, trying to find satisfaction. Suddenly his mouth is gone, the cool air hitting my center. “Don’t stop, please.”

  He hovers over me, his lips slick with my juices. “Tell me who he is, or I won’t let you come?” Slowly, he slide two fingers through my folds. A needy groan escapes his throat as he latches onto my nipple. In unison he works his fingers and mouth, bringing me to the edge.

  “Oh fuck. I’m…” He removes his fingers, gently running his thumb over my clit. “No! Oh God please!” I thrust my hips trying desperately to find anything to relieve the ache screaming between my legs.

  “You want to come Princess?” His voice is heavy with a seduction, as he looks at me with hooded eyes.

  “Oh god yes.” I squirm.

  “How bad?” His fingers slide through my slick center, curling and hitting their intended goal.

  “Please, Please Johnathan.” I grind, thrusting my hips in rhythm with his fingers. He slowly works me toward the edge, sucking and nipping my nipples.

  “Tell me who he is, and I’ll give you the best fucking orgasm of your life.” Erratically, his fingers pick up the pace.

  “Oh god.” My body quivers with need, my resolve cracking open like an egg. I can’t take anymore. “My neighbor. Jesus, it’s my neighbor.”

  His eyes flash with anger. “Come princess.” He pinches my clit, thrusting his fingers deep.

  My orgasm rips through my system, cracking my soul wide open. I only half hear his zipper and the tearing of foil. A guttural moan escapes my throat as I feel the head of his cock at my entrance.

  “Now I’m going to fuck you princess, and I’m going to fuck you hard. When I’m done you won’t even remember this guy’s name.” Without warning, he thrust forward entering me with one thrust.

  “AH!” My scream echoes erotically off the walls of his office. He’s long and fucking huge.

  “When I’m done, your pussy is mine.” Laying his weight on my body he stops, searching my eyes. “Ready princess?”

  I feel full, stretched to the limits. “Johnathan…”

  Before I can form a coherent word, he begins to move. Slow at first, inch by inch he pushes in until his pelvis hits my clit. Grinding his hips, hitting all the right spots, he slowly pulls out. “Fuck you’re tight.” His hips jerk, breaking his smooth rhythm. A low throaty growl escapes his lips. “Fuck it. I’m going to fuck you hard.” Thrusting deep, his hips start to move, picking up speed. “So. Good.” His hard rhythmic thrusts changed. “Fucking hell.” His head rolls backward as he randomly slams into me.

  “Oh God. I’m going to…” I twist my wrists, trying to free my hands.

  “Not yet princes.” His lips cover mine, effectively stealing my sentence. “You come when I tell you to.” His fingers dig into my ass as he pounds his cock deep. “Fuck. You’re. Spectacular.” His voice becomes strained as he slams into me, rotating his hips, his cock stroking all the right places. “Look at me when you come princess.” Grunting, his thrusts becoming uneven, irregular, needy.

  “Oh god please.” I gasp as I feel his cock expand, hardening like steel.

  “Come for me princess.” His warm breath tickles my neck as he growls against my ear.

  My back arches as a white hot ball of electricity explodes and rages through my body. My walls begin squeezing and pulsating around his cock. “O-h G-o-d!

  “Fuck Faith.” His lips pressed against the curve of my neck.

  Suddenly, his body starts to quiver, his grunts turning into needy moans. “Fuck.” His teeth sink painfully into my shoulder, sending another orgasm raging through my system. With each deep thrust, a low throaty ah uncontrollably escapes his throat. His body stiffens as his cock spasms against my pulsating walls. “F-u-c-k.” He thrusts on last time, planting his cock deep.

  His body drops, covering my body. I feel his breath heavy on my neck. “Fuck princess.” Going up on his elbows, he releases my wrists, rubbing feeling back into them. “You okay?” He gently kisses my nose.

  “Yeah.” I pant, my eyes flutter closed. My body is still quivering from the second orgasm.

  He stands, moaning as he pulls his semi hard cock out. He grabs a Kleenex, removing the condom, “fuck, it broke.” He disposes the torn rubber in the trash.

  “What?” My eyes snap open. What did he just say?

  “The condom broke.” He runs his hands through his hair. “Don’t worry, I’m clean.” I watch as he tucks his himself back in his pants, and zips up.

  I snort out loud, propping myself up on my hands. “Really?” I can’t hide my sarcasm.

  “Really.” He shoots me a look. “What?”

  “You have a reputation Johnathan. It’s common knowledge that you’ve whored around with most of L.A.”

  “Jesus. I’m not that fucking bad.” He looks offended.

  I raise a skeptical eyebrow.

  “Fine, I’ve fucked my share of woman, but I’ve always been careful. The only one I didn’t use protection with was Jessica.” His facial expression changes.

  Jessica? Suddenly anger floods my system. What they hell did I just do? I know he’s still in love with his ex-wife, hell everyone knows that. “Oh god.” I lay my head
in my hands. “What have I done?” I go to slide off his desk, only to be held in place.

  “Stay put.” He strides out of the room. I hear water running and moments later he returns with a wash cloth and towel in hand.

  “Let me clean you up.” Softly wiping my thighs, he runs the cloth between my legs. You have a beautiful pussy.” An evil grin creeps across his face. Turning and tossing the washcloth and towel on the floor, he helps me off the desk.

  I shimmy my skirt over my hips, trying miserably to straighten the wrinkle. Not gonna happen. Then it dawns on me, my shirt. “What am I going to do for a shirt?” I eye him angrily.

  Holding up a finger he walks back through the same door, disappearing for a matter of seconds. Reemerging he’s carrying one of his dress shirts.

  “I can’t wear that.” I gasp. “Everyone will know I’m wearing one of your shirts.”

  “It’s either that princess, or nothing.” An evil grin creeps across his face. “I’d prefer nothing…”

  “Fine.” I snatch it from his fingers, slipping it on and buttoning it up. “I must look ridiculous.” I look down at his shirt, it hangs almost to my knees.

  A low rumble escapes his lips, his emerald eyes devour me whole. “You look sexy as hell.” I watch intently as his strong fingers roll up the sleeves to fit. Without warning, he cups my face in his powerful hands and lowers his lips to mine. His lips take mine in a knee buckling kiss. “I meant what I said Princess. Your pussy is mine. I don’t like to share.”

  His words hit me hard. Tony. What the hell did I just do? “You can’t be serious. This isn’t the stone ages.” I turn on my heels and stride to the door.

  Suddenly, he’s at my side, his muscular hand slapping against the door. “I’m deadly serious Princess.”

  “Move please.” Too many emotions are bubbling to the surface. I have to get out of this room. “Please, move your hand.”

  “Faith, don’t run.” His warm hand wraps around the back of my neck. “I’m sorry about the phone and Jessica.” His eyes flicker with sincerity.

  “Stop. Just stop it. Do I look that dumb? I know you’re still in love with her. Shit, everyone knows you’re still in love with your ex-wife.” My voice resonances through the room. Damn. “Don’t worry, I don’t want a relationship with you.”

  “Faith, I…”

  “Stop.” I cut him off. I really don’t want to hear his excuses. “I need sometime. Please Johnathan.”

  He sighs heavily, the warm air caressing the back of my neck. “Okay.” He lifts his large masculine hand from the door. “But, the neighbor...”

  I fling it open, not letting him finish. I step out into the hall, thankful that most of the people aren’t in yet.

  I practically sprint to my office. As soon as I shut the door, tears flood down my cheeks. Now what? I’ve slept with two different men. I snort out loud. “Who the hell am I kidding.” I’ve done more than just sleep with them, I’ve fallen for both of them. Shit, I feel like I’m being torn in two.

  My eyes snap to my phone as it vibrates against my desk. Tapping the screen, it comes to life. The bureau, they want the pictures. The Des Moines Police Department? Why not FBI headquarters? I wipe the tears from my cheek, can this day get any worse?

  Chapter Nine

  Faith

  Why the hell didn’t they set this meeting up at FBI headquarters? Don’t they realize that the general public has access to this building, I could be recognized.

  I step from the elevator, my eyes roam the walls. I’m guessing, what used to be a beautiful eggshell colored wall is now a dirty yellowish brown. The smell of crime and cigarettes invade my nostrils, god I don’t miss working the streets.

  I tuck my purse under my arm, Thank god I went home and changed before I came in. I can just imagine the shit I’d take for wearing a man’s shirt into the office.

  I round the corner, my eyes roam my surroundings. Numerous metal desks are scattered in the center of the room, with copiers and coffeemakers are littered throughout the area. The random sounds of squelching police radios, overpower the buzz from the florescent lights. Officers, with weapons strapped to their side, type up reports and question suspects. Offices line the perimeter of the room, I’m guessing Detective Reagan is in one of those. I stop at the nearest office, I need to ask for directions.

  “Excuse me, detective?” I knock softly on the worn wooden doorframe.

  Slowly, a man with black thinning hair stops typing. His face is molded into a scowl that lightens instantly as his eyes roam from my chest, to my face, then back to my chest. A look of satisfaction settles in his eyes. I can read every deviant thought that’s running through his mind.

  “My eyes are up here asshole.” I growl to myself. This asshole has no idea who I am.

  He grins, his teeth stained by nicotine. “Ma’am.” His voice is raspy from too many years of smoking. “What can I do ya for?” His eyes tinkle with hope, licking his lower lip.

  Not in this lifetime asshole. A frustrated sigh escapes my nose, I have to be on my best behavior. “I have an appointment with Detective Reagan. Could you point me towards his office?”

  The detectives smile melts like butter in a frying pan. Judging from the look on his face, which now sports a sour scowl, I’d say he doesn’t like his fellow officer. Hmm, I can’t help wonder way.

  “Over there,” he grunts. His eyes fall back to his desk. He motions apathetically toward the far wall lined with doors. “Straight ahead,” he flicks his fingers in the general direction. “He’s the fifth door on the left. There’s a name plate.” His face turns back to his computer, I guess I’ve been dismissed.

  “Thank you, Detective…” My eyes search his messy desk looking for a name plate. I notice a moldy, half-eaten tuna sandwich, a large number of foil rappers from various candy bars, and - is that a banana? Finally I spy an upside down name placard. Turning my head, trying to read it upside down. “Ah there it is. Thank you Officer Joel.” I emphasis the officer, I had addressed him as detective first, giving him a much higher rank that he deserved.

  I turn on my heels and head forward through the room. As I weave through the desks, I can feel every eye scanning my body and landing on my ass. Next time I’m going to request we meet at our headquarters.

  Four. Five. I stop in front of the fifth door, eyeing the worn dirty wood. Sure enough ‘Detective Tim Reagan,’ is neatly engraved on a worn and smudge brass plate, that’s screwed to the door with oversized silver screws. I laugh to myself, I can see the patched holes from the numerous other plates that have come before. They must have a large turn over.

  I firmly tap three times, the heavily frosted glass in the door rattling loosely. Damn, this place could use some good old fashioned TLC.

  “Come in!” An agitated voice bellows through the thin wood.

  Squaring my shoulders and taking a deep breath, I always hate dealing with police detectives. For some reason they hate the FBI. More specifically the hate any investigator that is assigned to one of their cases. We’re thought of as unwanted intruders. I grab the doorknob, the palm of my hand landing in something greasy. Shit, I hope I have disinfectant wipes. Opening the door, I step in and let it click shut behind me.

  “Detective Reagan, my name is FBI agent Haylee Nichols.” Grabbing a Kleenex off his desk, I wipe my hand. Reaching into my bag, I carefully pull out my badge and hang it around my neck. I extend my hand only to have it eyed with distaste. And there it is, the huge divide between the FBI and local law enforcement.

  “Next time wear that around your neck when you’re in my department.” He snaps, briefly shaking my hand like a wet noodle.

  Anger bubbles from my chest, asshole. He has no idea what undercover means, or he doesn’t give a shit because I’m not one of his. “Sir, I am undercover and will not be wearing my badge in the public areas of this building. The last thing I need is to be made by some perp you have chained to a desk out there.” My voice firmly fills the room with an empty thre
at.

  I watch his eyes flare with anger, then quickly go blank. “Sorry Agent Nichols, this meeting was not my idea. Federal Agent Oliver was called to another scene unexpectedly. He ask me to get the evidence you have for him.” His monotone voice is laced with a hint of annoyance.

  “Not a problem detective.” I set my bag on the chair in front of his desk and grab my phone from its pocket. I use my finger nail to pop the tiny chip from its slot. I’m hoping I found the evidence that will break this case wide open. I feel a pang in my chest, hoping that I’m not turning in anything that will hurt Johnathan. That thought has me stopping cold. When did he get in? I can’t allow myself to have feelings for him or anyone I’m investigating. I mentally slide my walls of protection back into place.

  “Here ya go.” I smile, holding the tiny chip in the palm of my hand.

  He plucks the small chip from my hand. “Let me grab a plastic case for it.”

  I watch as Detective Reagan rummages through his cluttered drawers, this could take a while. I stand quietly, eyeing the numerous dusty pictures hanging on his wall. I notice one of him shaking hands with the Mayor, holding a plaque. Hmm, I wonder what that was for. Suddenly his door flies open and in walks the last person I want to see. My ex-boyfriend, and FBI agent Xander Meyer. What the hell is he doing in town?

  “Sorry I’m late.” His blue eyes twinkle suggestively.

  Bile rises in the back of my throat, all I want to do is drop the fucker. The whole time we were dating he couldn’t keep it in his pants. I should have done all the women in the world a favor and just cut his dick off and stuffed it in an evidence bag. “Agent Meyer.” I impassive try not to notice him.

  “He sexy,” he winks playfully. He turns to Detective Reagan, “Sir, Agent Oliver asked me to come down on his behalf and retrieve the evidence that Haylee here has gotten for us.”