Cruel Seduction: A Dark Romance (Underground Kings Book 2)

by Kelli Callahan

  His fingertips run down my spine, and my lids relax. There is so much to talk about, but I am so tired. I’m not on high alert to keep myself safe, I’m relaxed; my body and mind trust Sebastian. The longer I lay my head against his chest, the sleepier I feel. So many thoughts run through my mind like, will Kendrick find me? What does this mean for me and Sebastian? Will we finally get our chance? I should be afraid. I am in a new place that I don’t know, I nearly died, Kendrick is still out there, and I have a feeling he’ll stop at nothing to get me back to fulfil the sick plan he has for me.

  The one thing that overpowers every other thought.

  When is Sebastian finally going to kiss me? Isn’t seven years long enough? What is he waiting for? Did his feelings change for me? Maybe he found me pathetic because of how weak I was with Kendrick. I hadn’t been the strongest person, but Kendrick knew how to wear my down.

  If after all this time, all these dreams, all these make-believe fantasies of us that I had in my mind, if he doesn’t want me, what the hell will I do? My survival focused on him for so many years. I let myself become dependent on him, and he wasn’t even there physically.

  “What is it?” he asks, kissing the top of my head again.

  I close my eyes and wrap an arm around his stomach, feeling the muscles flexing between me. I feel his abs, and my eyes wonder down his body and the bulge between his legs. He always liked his jeans kind of tight and he pulls them off. The tight denim cups every inch of him right, and my cheeks darken with heat when I realize I am staring at the length against his left thigh. I glance away, burying my face in his body to stop myself from ogling him. He probably doesn’t want me.

  “Nothing,” I lie. “I’m just tired.”

  “You’ve always been a bad liar, Gabriella. You have the worst tells, but I won’t reveal my secrets. Go to sleep.”

  I tighten my arms around him, afraid he’s going to leave me alone, and the heart rate monitor beeps annoyingly, giving away my fear.

  “I’m not going anywhere, ever, baby. Someone would have to kill me to get me out of this bed with you.”

  Part of me isn’t convinced this is my life now. A murky part of my mind tells me I’m dead, and I finally get to rejoice and feel happiness.

  Sebastian is my peace.

  In the darkest of times in my life, in the instances of fear and pain, in moments of sadness and tears, he is the man who brings warmth to my heart that grew cold. My mind might have forgotten little details of his face, but how he made me feel could never be forgotten.

  Sebastian Knight is burned, engraved, and sewn into the fragility of my psyche, and he has no idea just how much stronger he made me.

  Chapter Eleven

  SEBASTIAN

  Quinn is helping Gabriella shower. Gabby has been five days, and every day is pure fucking torture. I want to kiss her so bad. The need engulfs me. I want to take, take, take! It has been years, and I fucking deserve to feel her lips against mine once and for all.

  But she is healing, not just physically but mentally, and I have to wait. If I have to wait another seven years before she tells me I can kiss her, then I will wait. I don't want to wait, but Gabby is the only woman I will wait for.

  I sit on the couch, leg shaking with anxiety as I stare down the hall where my room is. I in the reading room, where the doors open to the infinity pool outside. Books upon books surround me. It smells like I library, and it is part of the reason why I picked the room closest to it.

  I stare daggers into my bedroom door. I can hear the shower running, and my cock is painfully hard thinking of Gabriella all wet and soapy, the foam gliding down between her breasts, and then there is Quinn, squeezing the loofah on her skin.

  “Jesus,” I huff a breath and lean back to try to focus on anything else. I’m not having naked fantasies of Quinn, no. I can’t even imagine her naked, but I think about her hands sliding down Gabriella.

  Listen, I’m just like every other man. While some guys might not like the idea of two girls, I do. I am the typical dude right now, and I am about to go out of my mind. I want to peek in there to see what is going on.

  What if Quinn is touching her?

  “Oh, you’re being fucking ridiculous,” I huff to myself, chew on my thumbnail, and look at the door again. My leg shakes still. The sexual deprived man I’ve oppressed for the last … my god. I can’t even remember the last time I got laid. It had to have been before prison. He nudges the back of my mind and tells me to go look inside my room to see if the girls are getting busy.

  I readjust my erection and stand, taking a deep breath, and I hurry down the hall toward the kitchen. I need a drink. I grab a beer from the fridge and close the door, then I think better of it and grab a few more, then carry them to the reading room.

  Right as I sit, Quinn comes out of the bedroom. Her cheeks are flushed, and she wipes her forehead as if she just had a strenuous workout.

  Jesus, Sebastian, get your shit together.

  “Your shower gets so hot, Sebastian.”

  I lift my brows and choke on my drink. “Hmm?”

  She points over her shoulder. “Your shower. The temperature on the hot water is scorching. I don’t know how you deal with it.”

  Oh, I thought she had said something completely different.

  “I like my water hot,” I choke out, guzzling an ice-cold beer down my throat.

  “Well, she’s asking for you. I’m going to see Jaxon. Whew, I’m sweating. You really need to have that looked at, Sebastian. She could faint in there.”

  Quinn bringing up Gabriella’s safety has all the dirty thoughts disappearing from my head, and I bolt forward and crash through my bedroom door to see Gabriella stepping out of the bathroom. Tendrils of steam follow her like fog. She has a skimpy white towel wrapped around her chest, and she is towel drying her hair. The wet locks fall over her shoulders, sticking to her tan skin. I see the brief small crisscross of scars over her chest, but I still think she is the prettiest, sexiest woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

  “Sebastian, is everything okay?” Her fucking brown doe eyes are wide as the moon, and I want to bend down and kiss her so bad.

  I set the beer down on the nightstand and try not to look at her, I really do, but that towel comes to her mid-thigh, and her breasts are pushed together in the towel. She is every man’s fucking fantasy. Kendrick is an idiot, and I am glad for it because this woman is mine.

  “Sebastian, you’re worrying me.”

  “Quinn said you were asking for me?” I manage to pry my damn tongue from the roof of my mouth and stare at the ceiling so I won’t check her out. She probably thinks I’m a creep or something. After everything she has been through, I’m fucking hot for her.

  No, needy.

  Yeah, I am fucking needy for her.

  Any guy who loves a girl is needy for them, and if they say they aren't, well … they are fucking liars or assholes or both.

  “Is everything okay? Something wrong with your ceiling?” she asks, stepping closer to me and my bodywash wafts over to me. I didn’t think it was possible for a manly scented soap to arouse me, but coming from her? Knowing it is my soap on her skin? Yeah, I can barely contain myself

  “No, nothing at all.”

  Her hand lands on my chest and my eyes fall from the ceiling to hers. Her lashes are still wet from the shower, and the energy between us shifts. The air is sucked out of the room, and she licks her plump, dark pink lips, and steps closer to me, filling the gap between us.

  I close my eyes and begin to count to ten, something I do when I try to gain control of myself, but I can’t count to ten, not with her in my space and her hand against my chest. Each stroke of her finger against me is red hot, and I swallow a moan.

  It isn’t because I am touch deprived.

  I’m Gabriella deprived, and I hung on a very, very, tight thread when it comes to her. I have to give her time to wrap her head around what her life is now. She has trauma.

  “Sebastian.”


  My eyes shut again, relishing in the wispy way she says my name, like she can’t catch her breath. My cock aches. There is no way she can’t see how she affects me. My mind swirls with thoughts of her dropping that fucking towel, pinning her against the wall, and fucking her. I want to show her what it is like for a real man to fuck his woman, a man who cares about her pleasure and only wants her pleasure.

  Nothing makes me feel higher than a woman coming on my cock. There isn’t a greater compliment. It means I am doing my job as a man to please her, and I want to do that for Gabby.

  “Gabby,” I say her name on a painful breath, and she steps closer again.

  The soft crumble of her towel falling to the ground has me snapping my eyes open. My eyes rake her slowly, mapping every inch, ever curve, and I stare at her small, perky tits. Her nipples are a light brown, like milk chocolate pieces of candy, and I want to suck them into my mouth and have them melt against my tongue.

  There are white faded scars along her torso, and I want to ask about them, but now isn’t the time. She is showing me her body because she wants this as much as I do. She has a dark patch of hair above her pussy, and my mouth waters. I want to bury by nose into that bush and inhale while my fingers fuck her tightness.

  The lower simmer of flames that have been dancing between us since she got here combusts into a wild blaze. It’s as if kerosene has drenched us and the drop of the towel is the match that lights the fuse.

  Now, I am burning for her.

  My hands land on her hips and push her against the wall, shoving my knee between her legs. “Gabby, you have no idea how much I want this,” I say, swallowing to coat my dry throat. “But you need time—”

  “I’ve spent enough time away from you.” She leans forward, her lip inching closer to mine, her breath slipping through the crack of my lips to give me the oxygen I need to comprehend everything happening.

  My left hand slides up her body, slowly; I’m unsure if she really wants this. I can’t let it go too far. Fuck, this might already be too far. My hand curves around her breast and she whimpers.

  She fucking whimpers for me.

  I growl, low and deep in my throat with how she responds to me. I make sure not to touch her neck; the bruises are still there, and I know that is a sensitive area. I cup her jaw and bend forward, pausing for a moment to lick my lips and decide if this is really the time to taste her like I’ve always wanted.

  When will there be a perfect time? There won’t be. It’s up to the couple to make the moment perfect, and every second she breathes, nothing could get better. My right hand digs into her hip, and I press my lips against hers. I want to devour her, but not right now—not for our first kiss, the one that has been building for nearly a decade.

  It is slow, a bit uncertain, tender, and soft. I tease the tip of her tongue with mine, then I break the kiss, letting out an unstable breath.

  She does the same.

  Perfection. I need more.

  Her kiss is more than I’ve ever dreamed about. It's soft, eager, and warm, like feeling the sun after being cold for a far too long. Gabriella thaws me out, boils my blood, and melts me.

  I smash our mouths together again and she moans. Eagerly, like I am starved for her sounds, I eat them up, swallowing them whole as the kiss turns from slow and steady, to hot and passionate. My right hand skims up her body and cups her breast. I play with her nipple, and the touch makes her rip her mouth from mine and cry out.

  Gabriella rocks against my leg, and nothing turns me on more than seeing her use me for her pleasure. I dip down and suck her bottom lip into my mouth and let it go with a soft plop. I am bewitched with how my fingers roll her nipple. The peak is hard and elongated, begging for me to wrap my lips around it and suck it until that bud is sore.

  Her hand rubs along my erection and pre-come drools from the tunnel of my tip, wetting the denim material I am commando under. My sack draws tight, and I am embarrassingly close to coming. My hand snakes out and wraps around her wrist and pins her hands above her head. I steal another kiss from her swollen mouth, and she squirms and rocks against me.

  “I want to touch you,” she says, ending her sentence on a soft moan.

  I shake my head and kiss along her jaw, plucking her earlobe into my mouth as she uses my knee to rub her clit. “This is about you. Not me.” My hand journeys in the valley of her tits, her skin a golden spun silk. I appreciate her beauty. Gabriella is a mix of sin and goddess. Aphrodite in disguise. “I want to show you that you’re in control here, baby. You’ve been taken advantage of for far too long. It’s your turn to use.”

  “I don’t want to use you,” she mutters in the nook of my neck, dashing soft kisses along the vein that jumps with my heartbeat. “I just want us to finally be, Sebastian.”

  “We will be,” I reassure her, hiding my face in her shoulder as her body arches. The space between her thighs is a furnace. I can feel her clit rubbing against me, back and forth, the swollen bundle igniting sparks in her body. Every tremble shakes the muscles in her legs, and with every sweep of her hips, her movements grow desperate, fast, and frantic.

  The beautiful light bronze skin is flush, darkening to a hue reserved for Egyptian royalty. She is forever kissed by the sun, and no matter how much I kiss her, I can never satisfy my need, and the glowing empowerment held in her flesh makes sure I stay hungry for her.

  Her nails dig into my biceps, and her eyes squeeze shut as she tilts her head back. I can’t decide where to look. Her face, how it is drawn up in pleasure? Or the glistening sweat trailing down her neck that I want to drink? Her perk tits, how they slightly bounce from her sliding her hips across my knee? The way her stomach rolls, and her ribs press against her skin with every gyrate? Or, how about the sweetness creaming my jeans? I can see the pink hood sticking to my leg, a tiny flash of the sensitive, erotic hood that hides her clit.

  Fucking hell, I want to get to my knees, wrap her legs around my head, and feast. I moan at the thought, my orgasm fast approaching. I’ve had no physical stimulation, not really. I haven’t come without my hand in seven years. Now that I have Gabriella naked in front of me, my leg between her apex, and I can smell her nectar and hear her cries of pleasure, I am going to fill my jeans with come.

  I haven’t done that since I realized my cock wasn’t just for taking a piss.

  “Sebastian,” my name is a high-pitch squeak in her throat. “Oh, god, Sebastian!” Her hips stutter, and I lick my lips when her body tenses. She is about to orgasm. “Kiss me,” she pleads. “Please, God, kiss me.”

  “Never have to ask, Gabby. Never.” I squeeze the apples of her ass and pull her harder against me, robbing her lips before she can take another inhale. Our tongues slide and rock, twirl and lick. Her mouth is sweet, minty from toothpaste, and when my hand buries in her hair, it’s cold to the touch and wet from the shower.

  She breaks the kiss and cries out, taking deep gulps of air, and arching her back as her orgasm hits her. Wetness soaks my thigh. My skin is wet from her come. I tighten my fist in her hair to keep myself from shoving my hand between her legs and coating my fingers with her juices so I can taste her.

  Witnessing her fall apart is the best experience of my life. I enjoy watching her chase her pleasure. It alters me. If I ever want something with so much ferocity that I’ll kill for it, I’ll still want her more.

  I slam my palms against the wall and empty myself into my jeans, come dripping down my thigh, and when her hand strokes down my back, another spasm jerks my cock. “Gabriella,” I groan as the last bit of come drips from me.

  We sag against each other, her naked body a quivering mess in my arms as we try to catch our breaths. I bend my head and kiss her again, not getting enough of those lips that I’ve been deprived of for way too long.

  Her lips taste of salt. Her entire body is covered in a sheen of sweat. She’ll have to shower again. The kiss is lazy; our lips have no real direction of movement, just gentle slides back and forth.
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  The air kicks on and blows against our damp skin. She shivers and that has me jumping away from her. I run my hand through my hair and briefly start to panic. What did we do? Did I push her too far? I should have draped her in the towel that she dropped when she enticed me with her body. The last thing I ever want her to think is that I’m just like my brother.

  “I’m sorry,” I blurt and watch the happiness drain from her eyes, replaced with despair.

  She bends down and covers herself up haphazardly, then tucks her hair behind her ear.

  “I need to go.” I run out of the door and slam it shut behind me. Taking a deep breath, I head toward my room.

  Shit.

  I just came from my room.

  I have nowhere to go.

  More like, nowhere to run.

  Chapter Twelve

  GABRIELLA

  What. Just. Happened.

  I let out a breath and droop against the wall. My spine digs into the hard surface, but not even that is enough to wake me from my sleepy, sorrowful state. After so long of Sebastian and I not being together, we finally got the chance, and he apologizes? Did he regret me? I thought once I dropped the towel, his control would snap, and he would take me on the bed like the savage beast I knew he was, and I’d finally lose this damn virginity that apparently has a high damn price on it.

  I pinch the tip of my nose to keep myself from crying. I’ve done that all too much lately. Granted, my life has been an emotional rollercoaster, so I’m giving myself a learning curve.

  I remember a time when I was fierce, sassy, and took no shit. I was headstrong, and I never let anyone walk over me. I had a way of categorizing everything, and it let me move on from things easily.

  While Kendrick was a horrible human being, and everything he did over the years changed me for the rest of my life, I was ready to move on from him, mind, body, and soul. I no longer want him to have an evil grip on me. I want to gain control of who I used to be.