Pan's Salvation

by Shyla Colt

  He pulled her inside. She leaned against the metal. He studied her silently. The minutes crawled by. Tension filled her body. Her stomach fluttered with anticipation and fear. This was uncharted territory. Pan would be more than a fuck to burn off energy and get her mind away from the shit in her life that had become her restraints. He touched a part of her she’d ignored until it shrank to nothing.

  “What are you thinking about, my little bird?” He ran his fingers through her short coif.

  She leaned into his fingers on her scalp. “You.”

  “What about me?”

  “That you’re trouble.”

  “Not the first time I heard that. You want to tell me why?”

  “Because you make me feel?”

  “Is that really such a bad thing?” His voice dropped an octave.

  At his sexy tone, she creamed her panties and locked her knees, pressing her thighs together.

  “Yes.”

  “Why? There’s so many things I want to make you experience. We could be good together. I can feel it.” He leaned in and brushed the side of her face with his lips.

  Unable to resist his lure up close, she turned her head and connected their mouths. She moaned as he devoured her. He was a magician with his tongue as he tasted, nibbled, sipped and made her hesitation disappear. She gripped his shoulders and closed her eyes. He was dark, delicious and intoxicating. It was the beginning of the end, because she knew she’d finally found her poison of choice in this dangerous man, hell bent on possessing her.

  Pan ran his magical fingers down her sides. Goosebumps rose. He stopped at her hips and kneaded her flesh. His big hands were hot and soothing. She arched her back. He slipped his knee between her legs. He nudged her pussy. She whimpered, rocking her hips to experience more friction.

  They surfaced for air and he continued to rub her. “I want to see you come for me, Lark. I want to hear you cry out and feel you cream on my knee. You’re going to do that aren’t you?”

  She bit her bottom lip. She wanted to surrender. The desire damn near buckled her need. But the thought of being vulnerable terrified her. What would it mean to be at this man’s mercy?

  He grabbed a handful of hair and yanked.

  The pain sent a jolt of pure pleasure to her center—she moaned.

  “You like the things I do to you, Lark. If you let go, you’d love it. I can read you. You need to release all that pent up anxiety, fear and stress. I can bleed it out of you. That’s the poison inside of you. The addiction making you sick is your sense of responsibility to your sister. But in this room, only you and I exist. I am the only one who matters. I will care for you and give you pleasure as I see fit. Do you understand?”

  His words were an emergency ration to her starved soul.

  “All you have to do is say one word…Yes.” The kneading stopped and he leaned in to trace her lips with the tip of his tongue. He ripped her wall down brick by brick. He bit her lip.

  Lark cried out. The pain was sharp. It stole her breath. The caress of his tongue soothed it, turning the experience into something erotic and exciting. Blood rushed through her veins. Her heart thumped happily. The numbness she’d been wading through like toxic sludge was

  banished.

  “I want to offer you the world. My world.” He pinched her nipples.

  “Oh, God.”

  “No, just Pan.” His blue eyes twinkled.

  She wanted to run away with him and be a lost girl on his fantasy island. The yearning

  inside overrode her common sense. The chains of duty and sacrifice broke. “Yes,” she rasped.

  “I hope you understand you’re mine now, little bird. You’ve flown into the home of a man who guards his things. I promise the cage you’ll live in will be beautiful and secure. You can come and go as you please, but you will abide by my rules so long as you remain under my care.”

  “W-what rules?”

  “You do as I say when I say it, because it might save your life. The people we run with are rough. Retaliation happens.”

  This is really happening. I’m making a deal with the devil to save Robin. I knew this wouldn’t be for free.

  “Next…If you’re with me. You’re with me. There will be no one else.”

  She sputtered. “I-I would never.”

  “I’m just making sure we’re clear. It wasn’t based on any judgment call. You don’t know how things work in my world. You have to trust me. Because your actions reflect on me. I’m the one who has to pay for any mistakes you make. But I think you’re a smart girl. You know as well as I do, you’re safe with me and you’ll need my protection at least for a spell. I don’t trust these bastards. Two women alone, one going through withdrawal are exceptionally vulnerable.”

  “You think they’d come back and kill us?”

  “I think this deal went way too smoothly and I’m not a man who takes chances when it

  comes to safety. That’s the fastest way to end up dead.”

  “O-Okay. I trust you. I know you didn’t have to step up for me when you did.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. The minute I saw you burst out of that restroom and take on a whole store full of pissed off gun toting bikers, I knew I had to taste your fire. Even if it would burn me.”

  His words were a fresh injection in her veins. Pan was man enough to dominate and go

  against what her head said. Her body and her heart wanted it. They sang in his presence.

  “I want to feel your heat now, little bird. I’m going to push you to your limits and allow you to see all the greatness I know lies within you. But first thing, if it gets too intense. I want you to say Ice.”

  “Ice?” She frowned.

  “It’s the opposite of fire.”

  He had a clever mind…a major turn on for her.

  “You say that word and I’ll stop in my tracks.” He leaned in and nipped her bottom lip.

  She moaned helplessly.

  “But I don’t think you’ll want me to stop.”

  I don’t think I will either.

  “Shall we begin?” he asked.

  Images of the movie, Reboot of Khan flashed in her mind. Yes, please. She nodded, unable to make her vocal chords work.

  “Walk over to the bed and take off your dress.”

  lark made the walk to the bed, turned to face him and reached to unzip the top of her dress.

  His eyes were dark with lust and hunger. She slid the zipper down and let the silky material slide down her arms. The cloth hit the ground and she stood before him in a pair of black panties and a black bra.

  “Beautiful, just like I’d imagined you’d be.” He walked over and studied her as if she were a work of art. He glided the tip off his fingers over her cleavage.

  The light teasing touches made her shiver.

  “So soft.”

  His breath tickled her flesh. He cupped her breasts and she gasped.

  “More than enough to fill my hands.” Her nipples turned to stone. “And so responsive.” He pushed them together. She was clay and he, the sculptor. Heavy and throbbing they strained to be free of the silken material. He released them and pinched her turgid peaks, hard. She cried out.

  The pinprick of pain turned into a river of lust running heat through her body. “Such a good little bird. I can practically hear your heart beating in your chest.” He pinched them again and again.

  Lark cried out. Liquid coated the tops of her thighs.

  He leaned in and sucked the offended area into his mouth.

  She swayed toward him and closed her eyes. Sensations swirled together inside her and

  pushed her closer to the edge. He flicked the opposite breast with his finger and she jerked. He hummed. The vibration went straight to her pussy. She panted.

  Pan glanced up. “You want more, little bird?”

  “Yes.”

  He straightened and ran his hand down along her body. He cupped her core. “So fucking

  wet.” He ground his palm
against her swollen clit.

  Her body shook. Fireworks exploded inside her. She prepared to tumble.

  He stopped.

  “No…”

  “Shhh. There’s pleasure in the waiting. Sit on the bed and grip the edge.”

  She sank down and gripped the bedspread, eager to see what he would do next.

  He knelt down, hooked his thumbs inside her panties and rolled them down her legs.

  “Spread your legs and let me see you.” He ran his fingers through her neatly trimmed curly hair.

  “Neat and womanly.” He slipped his fingers between her lips. “Hot and wet.” He rolled her swollen clit between his fingers and her hips came up off the bed. “Not yet. Not until I tell you it’s okay.”

  Lark gritted her teeth, fisted the covers and fought against the urge to let the wave build up wash her away.

  “That’s it, hold it back. I’m going to have so much fun teaching you my games.” He blew on her pussy and she let her head fall back. He eased a finger inside her and she clutched him like a lifeline. “So tight.”

  His finger felt long, thick and not nearly enough.

  He added a second finger. “You want to come, Lark?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then fuck my fingers.”

  She glanced up at him and her jaw dropped.

  “You never had anyone talk to you like this before? I understand. But that’s why you were never satisfied. Stop thinking and do what I told you. Pretend this is me inside of you, filling that, tight, wet, pussy. You want to fly little bird…You’ll have to use your wings.”

  Desperate for relief, she shoved convention into the back of her mind and rolled her hips. A cry of pleasure spilled from her lips. The sound of his ragged breathing, the squeak of bedsprings and the intense feeling of pleasure combined. She came hard. A blinding explosion of white burst beneath her lids and she flew to freedom.

  In the throes of passion, his woman was beautiful. His. Somewhere along the way, he started to think of the dark-skinned beauty as his property. It began as a ruse and quickly become more.

  Her muscles locked onto his fingers and she thrashed on the bed, completely out of control. He decided he liked her acting out of hand. She fell back on the bed and he eased his fingers out bringing them to his mouth. Her taste coated his tongue. He growled his approval. Here was a flavor he could sample again and again.

  Other women bored him. Pan kept them until they were no longer useful, or they wanted

  more than he could give. That wasn’t the case with Lark. She fascinated him and touched a part of him that’d been long forgotten. The day he and Hayes placed a tombstone on an empty grave for their mother, he hardened his heart to anyone not his twin or his Dueling Devils family. It’d been easier that way.

  The guilt he carried on his back for starting the fire when he was a teen, wouldn’t allow him to commit to anything else. It’d be so easy to climb between her legs and slip inside her. But something held him back. When they came together, it wouldn’t be due to lowered inhibitions. It would be because she begged him for it. He spread her legs wider and moved his head between her legs. He licked a path up her center and savored her moan.

  Tonight, he would show her exactly what he could offer her.

  Pan leaned against the wall across from the door and watched Lark do her mini laps. She would walk from the door to his side and back.

  Manuel and his men would arrive any minute to deliver Robin. It made him nervous that the businessman was actually making an appearance. The gun on his waist did very little to reassure him of his safety.

  It was all up to his brothers in the other room listening to everything, via spy equipment their technical guru; Clue had set up. At the hint of trouble, they were just next door. The connecting doors between the rooms were unlocked and each of them was a crack shot.

  He folded his arms and continued to be Zen. The faster they got this over with, the sooner they could get the hell out of Mexico and put this cartel shit behind them. Demon had hard rules.

  They didn’t peddle flesh or deal in hardcore drugs. They especially didn’t fuck with an organization big enough to swallow them whole, like they were plankton in a sea of great white sharks.

  A knock came at the door.

  Lark froze.

  Pan jerked his head and she jogged across the room to sit in the chair at the table by the window. Pushing off the wall, he walked to the door and opened it to reveal the thugs from the day before and a middle-aged Hispanic male in a white linen suit.

  His salt and pepper hair was slicked back from his forehead. His eyes were shaded by a pair of designer sunglasses that cost more than most people made in a month.

  The lack of Lark’s sister wasn’t lost on him, but this was Manuel’s house. So, they would play by his rules. “Please come in,” Pan said, choking down the words that threatened to rise. It wasn’t in him to cater or pander.

  “Mr—?”

  “Sumner.”

  “Ahhh, Mr. Sumner.” Manuel’s voice sounded like water over stones, smooth and slightly

  accented, it made you think of a man highborn and well educated. Manuel’s gaze traveled across the room and latched onto Lark.

  The sly smirk on his face made Pan’s hackles rise.

  “I see you recognized the…. Potential in Ms. Rosario.”

  “You could say that,” Pan replied.

  “Ahhh, a personal interest.” Manuel tilted his head. “I cannot blame you, she is both

  gorgeous and…intelligent. Not much like the other.” His lip curled up in disgust. “I must tell you my dear. While I’m willing to make the exchange, I will not persuade her, should she come to me again. I am a businessman and she’s a woman who loves my product. Perhaps you should keep your money. Robin can stay with me and we’ll call it even. ”

  The anguish on Lark’s face was palatable.

  Pan stared her down, mentally willing her to keep her emotions in check.

  “With all due respect, Mr. Manuel, my sister belongs home with her family.”

  “Yes, but she has a taste for the lady. It’s not something so easily vanquished. I’m sure you have realized this by now. Here, she is happy and useful. You cannot hold that which longs to run wild. Will you keep her in a cage?”

  Lark glanced down.

  Manuel’s lips flicked upward. The bastard was getting a thrill out of this.

  Sadist fuck.

  He came here in person to rub the shit in her face and dissuade her. He wanted to keep

  Robin. He could give a shit about fifty-thousand. That was a drop in the bucket to him.

  “I can try,” Lark whispered.

  Manuel threw his head back and laughed. “Ah, you have fuega. I like it.” His eyes raked over her form obscenely. “I see you have your mind made up. I would like to see my money now, Mr. Sumner.”

  Pan nodded, walked over to the closet and pulled out a black duffle bag. He dropped it onto the bed then went to stand by Lark. He rested his hand on her shoulder and she covered it with her own. It trembled slightly, but her face was a fortress. Good girl.

  “It’s all here, boss.”

  “Have them bring the girl up.”

  Jose nodded and removed a phone from his suit. “Bring her up.”

  “I keep my end of deals,” Manuel stated.

  A few moments later, a knock came on the door.

  Jose hefted the duffel bag onto his shoulder. Then, the nameless Hulk opened the door.

  At the sight standing there, Pan’s heart plummeted.

  “I’ll be seeing you again. Of this, I am sure,” Manuel purred. The men left as quickly as they arrived.

  Robin was smaller than her sister, around five-foot-seven inches and maybe ninety

  pounds…soaking wet. Emaciated, her bones stuck out in angles sharp enough to cut. Her black hair looked ratty and full. Chopped into awkward layers, it hung around her oval shaped face.

  The dark smudges under her eyes looked perma
nently painted onto her flesh.

  This is the true definition of the living dead.

  She toddled toward them like a baby learning to walk. The white spaghetti-strapped dress tented around her frame, lending her a ghostly appearance. The lack of track marks told him she shot up between her toes. Bruises lined her legs.

  “Robin,” Lark whispered horrified.

  “Hey, Sis,” Robin slurred. “Long time no see.” She paused in front of him. “Who’s this?”

  “I’m Pan, why don’t you sit down.”

  Her eyes looked unfocused.

  He grabbed her arm and guided her to the bed.

  Lark rushed over. “Fuck! How much did you take?”

  “Enough,” Robin slurred. She pressed a hand to her head. “Ugh.”

  Lark held her hands to her face. Concern furrowed her brow and drew the corners of her lip down. “It’s hitting her now.”

  “Mmm-hmm,” Robin agreed.

  “She’s not looking so good,” Pan said.

  “I know,” Lark whispered.

  Robin wrestled out of her sister’s hold and rolled onto her side. She clutched her waist and curled into a ball.

  “Shit,” Pan whispered. He recognized the signs of overdose.

  “No. Don’t you fucking do this to me. No!” Lark hissed.

  “Lark, what do you want to do?”

  “Get her to the bathroom.”

  He lifted her rail-thin frame up and gently placed her in the tub.

  “You stay here with her,” he said. He returned to the room to find the boys filing in.

  “Shit’s going bad in here, brother,” Lefty said.

  “I know, man. I think she’s OD-ing,” Pan replied.

  “Fuck. What do you want to do?” Lefty asked.

  “What can we do?”

  The sound of retching drove home how quickly Robin was deteriorating.

  “Well, we sure as fuck can’t call an ambulance. The only choice we have is to ride it out or get to a hospital,” Lefty suggested.