by K. Webster
Claim me. I’m yours.
He enters me so hard and fast that I swear the door cracks from the impact. I yelp out his name as he slams into me over and over. With each thrust, I feel him marking my soul as his, and selfishly, I let him. I may miss my husband with every ounce of my being, but Alpha owns a part of me too—the greedy part of me that says that I can have both, that I don’t have to choose.
“You love me,” he groans as he pushes as deep as he can into me.
I don’t answer him. I can’t give him the words, but he knows.
“What happens when we die?” I ask suddenly as I feel my body begin to tingle from the pleasure of an impending orgasm.
His black eyes find mine, and for a moment, they’re so light that they almost seem midnight blue. “What happens if we live instead?”
My eyes flutter closed as his words attach themselves to my very being. They thread their way through my soul, and I wonder.
“What happens if we live instead?”
A shudder rips through my body as I lose myself to my climax. Tears roll out as I realize I’ve completely lost myself to this man. To the man whose last name I don’t even know. I feel him tense up before a burst of heat shoots deep into me. My pussy hugs his cock over and over as if it’s thanking him for his love.
We stay wrapped up in each other and still attached, but he pulls away enough to look at me. With the way his eyes roam over every curve of my skin so reverently, I feel as if I’m his everything.
“Who are you?” My mind-plaguing questions slips out.
He groans in frustration, and I see the indecision in his eyes. I can see that he wants to tell me exactly who he is, but something stops him. Lovenia and his “government” works stop him. It’s confusing as hell, but whatever it is scares him from coming clean.
“I’m yours. Just Al.”
I sigh but lean forward, searching for his lips. “What if I want more than Just Al?”
“You have all of me, Lar. All. Of. Me. Everything I do now is for you and because of you. Don’t you get that? You’re my life and my forever.”
Forever.
I wince at the word. Connor thought that I was his forever, too, and look how that ended up.
As Alpha’s lips brush against mine, I’m dragged right back to him. When I’m with this man, he’s all I can think about. And as upsetting as it is to forget my dead husband in the process, I can’t help but love the power he has over me. I’ve only felt this way one time before, with one other person. It saved me from myself then—just like it is now.
“Lark, you’re a good person.” He whispers it so softly that I almost mishear his words. Then he thickens within me and slowly peels me away from the door.
I hold on as he saunters—with me attached to him—into my bedroom and kicks out of his jeans and shoes along the way.
“Why do you say that as if it surprises you?” I question when he reaches my bed.
His hand finds the bottom of my dress and pulls it up over my head, leaving me in nothing but my boots and cross necklace. While I wait for him to answer, I help him out of his shirt.
“I had you pegged for a bad girl. But you’re not. They were wrong.”
“They were wrong.”
“Who was wrong?”
Instead of answering me, he lowers us onto the bed without ever detaching himself from me and slowly thrusts his hips against me. A moan echoes in the room, and I bite my lip when I realize that it was mine.
“You’re an angel, Lar. My angel.”
I close my eyes as he makes love to me. I’m his angel.
“You’re my angel,” Connor breathes against my lips.
“Connor, I’m hardly an angel.
“I love you, Twiggy,” Alpha whispers against my neck.
“I love you, my death-obsessed wife.”
Tears.
Tears.
My brain flops back and forth from past to present, nearly giving me whiplash.
“I love you too, army boy.”
“Marines. Oorah.”
“Alpha,” I cry out as he pushes my thigh against my belly and takes me deeper than he ever has before.
“Stay with me, baby,” he utters as if he knows my mind is all over the place.
“What am I doing?” I sob but then gasp as pleasure sears through every nerve ending in my body, causing me to buck beneath him.
“Lark, you’re living.”
I snap my eyes open and flip my head to the side. “Shit. I’m late.” The clock reads twenty-three after seven.
“Call in. Stay here with me. In bed,” Alpha pleads. The desperate tone in his voice makes me consider his request, but I already let Gus down enough.
“Ugh, don’t tempt me. Get dressed and make me some food, good-lookin’,” I tease as I roll out of bed and begin throwing on my clothes.
Given a new mission—food always gets him—he bounds from the bed and dresses quickly. I swiftly touch up what little makeup I’m wearing and put on a new pair of panties before heading out of my room to find him. I hear the microwave ding as I round the corner.
“What’s for dinner?” I question.
He smiles sheepishly at me as he pulls a Hot Pocket out of the microwave and then hands it to me. Luckily for him, he’s cute. I get damn tired of eating these things.
I feel bad when he doesn’t make one for himself but instead hunts my purse down for me.
“You aren’t going to eat?”
“I’ll have dessert later.” His wink that follows is suggestive.
I roll my eyes and take my purse as we leave my apartment. “You’re a pig,” I laugh as he locks my door.
When he turns to me, I lift onto my toes and kiss his cheek. His gaze drifts beyond me to down the hallway, and a growl so fierce tears from his chest, scaring the shit out of me.
“What?” I hiss and whirl around, assuming Pedro is after me. But when I look down our decrepit hallway, all I see is closed doors. No people. His gaze is trained on the stairwell, and the glower in his eyes is so incredibly hate-filled that it sends a tremor of terror down my spine.
The moment lasts for several seconds before Alpha finally relaxes and turns a worried stare toward me. His palms find my neck, and he crashes his lips to mine. I melt in his confusing kiss. The kiss seems protective and apologetic—relieved even.
What the fuck just happened?
“Alpha?”
“I won’t let anyone hurt you. There’s only one place you’re destined to go and it’s in my arms,” he assures me cryptically.
His anxious tone freaks me the fuck out. Is the government after me? Does this have something to do with Connor? Was he in some sort of trouble before he died, and now, I’m being sought after?
The questions don’t stop and my mind whirls around and around as Alpha escorts me down the stairs and out of the building. Tonight, the LA air is sticky and I’m thankful for the dress I’m wearing. Alpha’s guard is still up, though, because his eyes dart all over the place as if every shadow we pass is a threat.
I don’t push him for any more answers as we make our way to Gus’s tattoo shop. Honestly, I am slightly afraid of what the answers will be. Nothing makes sense in this world, but ignorance is bliss, they say. My thoughts are chased away as we approach the stairs. Gus is pacing the top of the landing and nerves threaten to have the dinner I inhaled on our walk make a reappearance.
“Dammit, Lark. Where the fuck have you been?” he snarls when he sees me.
Alpha tenses beside me, and I physically have to pull him to me. “Don’t talk to her that way unless you want to meet every step with your ugly-ass teeth!”
I snap my head over to see my overprotective man glaring up at Gus. “Sorry, Gus. And, Al, cool it,” I warn as I hop up the steps.
“Your client has been waiting for forty-five minutes and he looks rich. You’re making me look bad, Lark. This may be just a job for you, but it is my business. Now get in there and take care of him. Please,” he grum
bles.
I sigh and nod that I will. Alpha is hot on my heels and must give big, badass Gus a look that has him shitting his pants, because he actually cowers under his glare.
Normally, Al would leave me to work and do whatever he does, but not tonight. Tonight, he follows me right into the parlor as if threats are everywhere. I shake my head in annoyance as I storm over to my station. A man in a navy, tweed, three-piece suit is leaning against the wall near my doorway.
“I’m so sorry,” I apologize as I approach the dangerously good-looking man. My heart might be tied up with Alpha’s, but I’m still a woman and can appreciate a fine specimen of a man. And my client is just that—hot.
“No need to be sorry, lovely,” he grins. He seems unaffected by my tardiness, completely opposite from what I was expecting according to Gus’s reaction.
“Why are you here?” Alpha blurts rudely.
I twist my head toward him and fire off a warning glare.
The man smiles at Alpha in a friendly manner, as if his rudeness doesn’t affect him. “So nice to see you so soon, Alpha. I’m here to get a tattoo. I hear she’s wicked at what she does.”
For some reason, I blush at his compliment, but Alpha seems ready to explode. How do these two know each other?
“She’s not wicked at anything, so back the fuck off,” he snarls back.
The man frowns but only for a moment. I feel as if I’m going to suffocate from the heat of their standoff. The food from earlier grumbles in my belly, and I feel ill.
“Al, chill the hell out or I’ll have Gus escort you out of here,” I threaten.
He doesn’t seem at all worried about my threat, but he does zip his lips.
“What’ll it be today, sir?” I question as I drop my purse in the corner and begin washing my hands.
“Please call me Luc.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the client now known as Luc begin to unbutton his suit jacket. As I prep my area, I hear him removing the necessary clothing and drapes them on a waiting chair. When I finally turn back to him, he is naked from the waist up. His contoured body, much like Alpha’s, is also a blank slate. Unlike Al, though, his skin is slightly fairer.
“What do you want?” I ask him as I attempt to peel my eyes away from the skin that is as blank as paper. Skin I am itching to ink up.
“I want you”—he pauses dramatically, which draws out a huff from Alpha—“to tattoo a cross on my chest. I was going to have you do wings on my back, but that is kind of tacky, don’t you think?”
Alpha mutters a string of curse words under his breath, and I bristle at Luc’s underhanded comeback.
“Wings are sexy—especially mine,” I snap. “Now lie down on your back and I’ll give you what you want.”
Luc flashes me what he must think is a hot grin—and to most women, it probably is—but I think it seems disgusting and arrogant. “Darling, the cross I want is special though. I want to be able to look down and see it. I’m also a big fan of snakes. A thick, green-eyed serpent twisting around it would be quite exquisite, don’t you think?”
The vision he creates with his words sends my mind into a frenzy as I paint his skin with my eyes.
“So, you want an upside-down cross, essentially? You’re weird. Lie down,” I order.
He chuckles but does as he was told. I slip my gloves on and drag my rolling table over to the bed. My clients are used to me climbing all over them to get in the perfect position to ink them, and Luc is no different. Although Alpha is going to hate it.
“Al, I’m feeling kind of hot. Do you think you could get me a cold drink? Maybe a few Oreos?”
His eyes widen, but he must see the paleness of my skin. With a grunt, he chooses to help me instead of protect me like I’m his cavewoman. Once he’s gone and after I’ve quickly sketched out a rough image of what Luc described, I grab my gun and straddle my client. His body is incredibly warm, and I’m glad Al went after something for me to drink. This will be a long night, otherwise.
Luc’s lips curl into a naughty grin as I rub the skin with my gloved hand. My mind analyzes the size and colors that will make this design perfect. Unfortunately, my customer must have analyzed the way my legs feel wrapped around him, because I feel him harden beneath me.
I raise a brow and pin him with a glare. “You better knock that out right now, buddy. My boyfriend will kick your ass. You’ve been warned.”
He full-belly laughs at my words as if I’m a cute puppy nipping at him. “I think you’d be worth an ass-kicking.”
I ignore his flirting and begin my art. I’ve barely started my design when I hear Alpha come back. He sets a glass of ice water and the cookies on my table without interrupting me. Then he kisses my head but doesn’t say anything. I also realize for a fleeting moment that he remains nearby, within touching distance.
The cross is large. The longer of the too planks—for some reason, a weathered, wooden cross came to my mind—starts between his clavicle and with elegant smooth lines shoots out down toward his rippled abs. The other plank intersects just below his pecks and is shorter. I must spend hours on the details of the cross alone, occasionally sipping my water. When it’s empty, I absently see that Al has refilled it.
When I begin working on the serpent, my client finally speaks.
“I want her to have eyes the same color as yours.”
The serpent is a her and she will have emerald-colored eyes like mine.
Creepy.
I have the weirdest customers.
I SHOULD KILL him. If I thought I actually could, I would. But I’m not stupid. Hotheaded at times, yes, but not stupid. I’m not Omega, for crying out loud.
Lark is seemingly oblivious to the darkness she’s straddling so innocently. But I’m watching him. I watch every twitch of his muscles. Every lust-laden glance he sends her way. The way he clutches her thigh when the pain becomes unbearable. If I were a normal man watching another man touching my woman, I’d have no qualms about knocking him on his ass.
Luc is no normal man though, and neither am I.
Luc and I work on opposite ends of the spectrum. Unfortunately, he’s not someone to be messed with, and he is far more powerful than I am. My best bet is to only make a move if I have to. And I will if I have to. But right now, I’ll wait his ass out.
As Lark leans close to his chest to work out some of the details of the serpent’s mouth, I get a glimpse of her bare breasts, which means that motherfucker can see them too. I’m about to distract her so she’ll end his show, but I don’t have to. The cross around her neck slides out of her dress and lands on his chest.
Then all Hell breaks loose.
“Fucking bitch!” Luc roars in agony as he grabs her shoulders and pushes her away from him.
I’m about to kill him, but she thinks he’s just being a pussy from the needle, so I keep my clenched fists at my side.
“Stop being a goddamned baby, Luc,” she snaps and pushes him back down onto the bed.
I step closer to her and get a glimpse of his face. His eyes watch in horror as her cross swings toward him every time she leans forward with her gun. It doesn’t touch him, but he squirms each time. I find satisfaction in watching the fear in his eyes. Power thrills through my veins from knowing that it bothers him. I lock the information away in my head for a later time.
“There. You’re done.” She smiles as she lifts up.
I can tell she’s dizzy now that she’s rejoined reality by the slight sway of her body. She’s been in the same position for hours, and I need to get her home. Rushing over to her, I hook an arm around her waist and pull her away from the darkness and into my light. It almost seems as if she’s drawn into some unseen magnetism of mine because she allows me to sweep her into my arms and hold her tight.
“Your work is beautiful, Twiggy,” I tell her and then kiss the top of her head. I remember how upset she was when I failed to praise her last time.
Her arms snake around my waist and she squeezes me. �
�Thanks, Just Al.”
I flick my gaze over to Luc and see him looking down at the tattoo in appreciation. Pride swells in my chest because Luc may be the baddest of them all, but at the end of the day, even he is in awe of her talent. She’s a star.
Luc struts over to his clothes and pulls his dress shirt on but leaves it open to air out his raw chest. Then he removes a business card from his pocket and extends his long arm toward her. My girl is too smart for her own good, because she doesn’t reach for it.
“What’s that?” she asks as if he’s holding a snake.
While waiting for him to answer, she quickly sets to dressing his tattoo before he leaves.
“A business card, sweetheart. You’re quite the artist. I run a company full of people who appreciate art like yours. We could always use someone full time like you on staff. I pay very, very well.” He flashes a wicked grin.
I hiss out a breath of air when she takes the simple, black card from him.
“Wow, Luc. A job offer from the Devil himself. Pass.” She smirks and tosses the card onto her side table.
I have the urge to laugh at him, but he’s not at all impressed by her rejection.
“Don’t be so quick to reject my offer, darling. Your dear boyfriend here was just at my office this afternoon entertaining an offer of his own. How nice would it be for you to spend all of that time together but be paid more than you could probably ever spend?” he says smoothly.
When she cuts her eyes over to mine, I know I’m in trouble for not having told her about my meeting.
“Unless you’d like more tattoos, I suggest you run along, sir,” she snarls, disgusted.
He picks up his jacket and tie and then pulls out a wad of cash. With a grin, he tosses the money onto the table beside his card. “There’s a tip in there for you.”
She mutters her thanks but nonverbally dismisses him when she sets to cleaning her tools. I, on the other hand, keep my eyes on the sharp-dressed demon. He watches her with a longing look for several moments before winking at me. I suppress the growl that thrashes to leave my throat. I’m so close to throttling this motherfucker. As if he knows I’m about to snap, he flashes me a sly grin before he turns on his heel and strides out of the parlor.