A Cut so Deep (Thornes & Roses Book 1)

by Dani René

  “I was going to keep you company, you looked so lonely all alone in the dark,” he tells me in a low, gravely tone. “What did you think I was going to do to you, wild rose?” He leans in, his mouth nearly brushing along my cheek, but he doesn’t touch me.

  “I don’t like being down here,” I bite out the words, frustrated by his nearness. “Can you get out of my way?” I question, my voice still a mere whisper, but I know he can hear me; he can probably hear every breath that’s whooshing through my lungs. “Please?” I tack on afterward, hoping my manners will allow me freedom.

  “Are you ready for the party tonight?” Damien asks, stepping back, and I can finally pull in a long deep breath, but the moment I do, it’s all him I can smell.

  The thick cologne, which reminds me of cinnamon and chocolate, along with the distinct smell of weed. I didn’t know he smoked, but I guess the more time I spend with him, I’ll learn.

  “Yes. I’m not at all used to parties, though. I guess you could call me uptight,” I tell him, squaring my shoulders and looking directly into those endless pools of blue.

  “Mm,” he murmurs to himself, as the corner of his mouth kicks up into a dark grin. His gaze turns away from me, glancing up the stairs at the door, before he turns and makes his way up the steps, leaving me gaping at his retreating form.

  When I’m finally able to breathe, I realize my heart is kicking wildly against my ribs. My stomach is in turmoil, and my whole body is trembling. Thankfully, the grip I have on the wine bottles is so tight, I don’t drop them. But my knuckles are, now, painfully white, and my fingers feel as if they’re glued to the glass.

  I hate the way he makes me feel. Scared, but also turned on. I’ve never had someone who made me feel an inkling of what Damien does; but all it is, is stupid hormones. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

  13

  Damien

  The dark need that normally drives me to do shit like that is instinctive. The fear in Nesrin’s eyes makes every nerve in my body spark to life. The party is in full swing when I reach the living room. I don’t see any sign of Genevieve yet, but I know she’ll be here. I spotted the Havens earlier, and where they are, she’ll be.

  Moving to the bar, I grab the bourbon and lock the cabinet, before I head out into the garden. Finn is with Mali, and Cass has his arm slung over Holly’s shoulders.

  Cassian’s gaze meets mine, and he offers a wink, to which I grin. His plan had worked perfectly. The timing was just right for me to find my wild rose hidden in the cellar. Her scent is still clinging to my nostrils when I make my way through the garden and down to the brand-new greenhouse that Bradford built for Nesrin’s mother.

  It’s darker down here. It was one of my favorite places to hide, but now that this glass monstrosity is here, I figure I’ll hide inside it. Pushing open the door, I head inside. Leaving the door ajar, I make my way to the back, where Dad had the roses set up. A variety of color greets me—pink, red, white, even a slightly blood-stained shade—and I pick up the darker one.

  It’s beautiful. With thorns that poke out of the stem, I smile, thinking of how feisty Nesrin is when I’m near her.

  Fire burns in her eyes when our gazes lock, and my cock hardens at the thought. My heart thuds against my ribs, a warning that I’m going to get lost in the darkness along with her.

  Perhaps my little sister would like to play hide and seek with me. I know this place like the back of my hand, and there are many shadowed corners to do dirty things.

  My father trusted me with something precious, but he knows that I’m destructive. I’ve broken far too many fragile things in my life. And, this time, it will be no different because I will break Nesrin Ellington.

  She’ll never be a Thorne.

  “I thought I’d find you in the shadows of the garden,” Gen says, from behind me. I don’t turn to her. I don’t like that she’s invaded my privacy. I open the bourbon and take a long gulp from the bottle.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  “I wanted to see if you would introduce me to your new sister. I hear she’s quite the looker.”

  Her words have me spinning on my heel, my gaze boring into her. “Oh? And who would tell you that?”

  She shrugs. I wonder if she notices how tightly my knuckles have wrapped around the bottleneck. The images of wrapping my hand around her delicate throat, just like this, makes me even harder. But it’s not her face in my mind. It’s someone far more forbidden.

  “Get out. Go play with your boys, I don’t have time for games.” I sway the bottle toward her, gesturing for her to leave, but Gen’s stubborn; she merely stares at me with a grin on her face.

  “Are you turned on for her, Damien?” Gen glides forward, her black boots crunching over the ground, the sound seems louder than it is. “Does her innocence make your dick hard?” When she reaches me, her hand finds my crotch, and she palms me slowly. As much as I try to simmer the rage inside, I can’t, because she knows I like it rough; I love it dirty, and I crave it violent.

  “I said. Get. The. Fuck. Out.” Even as I enunciate each word, a groan rumbles in my chest. There’s a hand on my dick, and as much as I’d love to give Gen a hard pounding for being an insolent little bitch, I smirk before ripping her hand from my body. “When I tell you something, you obey. This is my fucking house, now get the fuck away from me, Gen.”

  The small, sinister smile that graces her lips makes my heart beat hard against my chest. “I’ll leave, but don’t think this is over.” She turns on her heel and walks out of the greenhouse. The party is louder now, and I watch her moving toward the Havens, who are standing in a circle around the fire pit.

  They were my biggest mistake.

  “Hello?” A soft, familiar voice comes from the darkness, but I don’t respond to it. “Is anyone down here?” she asks, and still, I remain silent. I want her here. I realize that my need wasn’t for Gen or any other girl at this party. It’s for the girl who steps over the threshold.

  I slink into the shadows and watch her move deeper into the greenhouse. She’s treading lightly. And I wait. Like a predator in the darkness, I watch my prey.

  “Oh, wow,” she gasps, the sound making my dick stand to attention. I shouldn’t feel this need for her, but I do. She doesn’t notice me, but if she turned her head an inch to the left, she would. Instead, she reaches for the blood-red rose and tenderly touches the petals. “You’re beautiful.”

  Tipping my head to the side, I watch her. I wonder what that smooth skin would look like bruised. Marked by me. If I did that, it would mean I laid claim to her.

  “I miss you, Dad,” she suddenly mumbles. For one split second, I see a sad little girl instead of the woman who’s making every drop of blood in my body burn for her. I see a girl who lost someone she loved. I don’t know what happened to him, her father, but I can tell his absence has hurt her by the way she wipes the tears from her cheeks. She’s adamant not to show emotion.

  “In the dark, many secrets come to light.” My voice startles her, causing her to gasp and leap backward. Her body hits the glass wall, her hand shoots to her heart, holding her chest.

  “What are you doing in here?”

  “I figured I could find peace from the chaos of the party my brother’s insisted on hosting,” I tell her. I think briefly that I should offer her something in return. I learned about her heartache.

  “Spying on me isn’t finding peace.” Her fire is back, which makes me grin.

  “I came in here to be alone, my father had this made for Marcia, since your mother is such a lover of plants. But I came in here to think.”

  “I thought you’d be with one of the girls at the party,” she tells me, but there’s a question hidden in her statement. Once again, I wonder if she’s jealous.

  “Fitting that you and I would find ourselves in here,” I tell her, stepping out of the shadows and closer to her. “Since a greenhouse was our first meeting place.” Her eyes widen, then narrow, as I know she’s reca
lling watching me and the redhead at our parents’ reception.

  I hand her the bottle, offering her a drink. Slowly, she reaches for it, taking it from me. Her fingers brush along mine and sparks shoot through me. There’s something utterly forbidden between us: lust, need, and something darker.

  My gaze doesn’t leave her mouth, as she takes a swallow of the burning liquid, which makes her cough. “This is gross.”

  “It helps with the pain,” I tell her, causing her eyes to lock on mine. Her brows furrow, her expression filled with confusion.

  “What pain? Are you hurt?”

  I lean in, somehow knowing she’ll understand when I say, “the pain inside.” Nesrin tips her head back, our faces inches apart, as we stare into each other’s eyes. I can feel her short, warm breaths on my lips. I want to feel her mouth on mine. I should take it, take her. I move closer, stepping toward her. She attempts to step back, but she’s flush against the cool glass. A shiver wracks her body, and I harden against my zipper.

  “What are you doing?” Her breathy whisper is enough to have me ready to sink into her. Steal into the warmth of her body.

  “I’m testing your self-control.”

  “Mine or yours?” she challenges. Her mouth beckons, and I lean in even further, my lips whispering along hers. A whimper falls free from her mouth, and I want nothing more than to steal it from her.

  “Both.” I offer her only one word in response. Her lashes flutter against the apples of her cheeks. A gasp falls free when her mouth opens for me as if she’s waiting for me to take the kiss I so desperately want.

  Moments pass in the dark. I don’t take it. I don’t move forward, and neither does she. It’s not the right time. I step back and hear the whoosh of breath from Nesrin.

  “I have to get back to the house,” I tell her. “Don’t leave with anyone tonight.” The warning is clear. I’m concerned that one of The Black Knights will want to take her home. I don’t doubt those guys are only here to fuck with me. But they’re not getting me or any of my family.

  “I won’t.” Is all I hear when I leave her in the greenhouse. My body still feels as if there’s a current racing through it, trickling into every nerve ending. I should never have done that. Never have had her pinned against the fucking wall like that.

  But it was too easy to lose myself in her.

  Too easy to crave her mouth on mine.

  And I know that my self-control can only withstand so much.

  14

  Nesrin

  The party is slowly simmering down as I make my way to my bedroom. But the moment I hit the landing, I feel a hand twist against my arm, and I’m spun around. Creed.

  “I wanted to chat with you,” he tells me. Deep green eyes hold me hostage, and something in my gut twists. Not in a good way. There’s something about him that makes me nervous. I don’t like it.

  “About what?”

  “I’m Creed Haven,” he tells me. “We met earlier, I’m a friend of Damien’s.” His gaze flashes as he takes me in from head to toe. “He didn’t tell me his sister was so gorgeous.”

  “I’m not his sister.”

  “Oh? I thought your mommy married Bradford.” There’s an underlying anger in his words, and I wonder what or why he would care.

  “What do you want?” I counter, not wanting to play this game. I wish Damien would come out of his bedroom. I saw him disappear in there earlier, but he hasn’t come out again. I want to scream, that would alert him that I’m not feeling comfortable, but I’m certain it would only anger Creed even more, and that’s definitely not what I need or want.

  “I wanted to see if I could come pick you up, take you on a tour of the town.” He offers me a charming smile, and his eyes shimmer, as he regards me. If I wasn’t so nervous, I’d think he’s handsome. But it’s in his eyes, they remind me of a snake’s, so luminous, the green almost glowing.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “I think it’s a great idea,” he tells me, before pulling me closer, causing me to stumble into his arms. I’m there for a split second before I’m suddenly ripped away from him and shoved behind a bare back of tensing muscles, as they tighten with rage.

  “Get the fuck out of my house, Creed,” Damien’s voice is animalistic; the growl of possessiveness makes my stomach flip.

  Creed grins as if he’s happy he’s angered Damien. It’s clear they have a history, something that I’m not privy to, but I intend on getting answers from Damien the moment his friend is gone.

  Green eyes land on me, before Creed says, “Soon, little one.” He winks at me, then turns to walk down the stairs toward the door. All I can hear is my heart thudding in my ears. My stomach is in knots, and my breathing is labored as my lungs struggle to pull in air. I can’t believe that just happened.

  Damien spins around, and I’m met full force with his beauty. His slim yet chiseled body is smooth. His abs look like they’ve been carved from porcelain, with hips that taper into a pair of black sweatpants. His V line teases its way toward the waistband of his pants, and the dark trail of hair that leads from his belly button, disappearing below his clothes, has my body pulsing wildly.

  “Are you done staring?” he challenges, the anger and rage that fueled him moments ago gone, in its place is a seductive grin that promises filthy things.

  I snap my gaze up to his, my cheeks heating because I’ve been caught checking him out. “What was that?” I find my voice, trying to keep it calm, but trying not to look at Damien’s body is a feat in itself.

  “Stay away from him,” Damien tells me, stalking down the hallway, but I’m hot on his heels. I want more answers than that.

  “You have to tell me what the fuck that was, Damien.” He stops suddenly, spinning on his heel, which causes me to crash into his body. My hands land on his pecs, and the heat coming off him is searing. But I don’t let go, I don’t move away, because his hands find my hips, his fingers digging into the flesh.

  “Don’t ever talk to me like that,” he whispers, but there’s no anger left in his tone or his blue eyes. They dance with desire, the pupils dilating, the color turning darker than they normally are. The corner of his mouth tilts sideways, the dimples forming in his cheeks.

  “Or what?” I know I’m poking the beast, teasing the animal that he hides inside. But I don’t care because I need him to do something. To kiss me or kill me. This heat that sizzles between us is unbearable.

  He spins us both around, slamming me against the wall, knocking the breath from me, and seconds later, his mouth crashes on mine. His lips steal my whimper, his tongue darts against mine, tangling and dancing. He rolls his hips, pressing his erection against my stomach.

  He consumes me. Taking all of my breaths and mingling them with his. But his hands don’t move from my hips, if anything, they only seem to tighten their hold on me. I don’t know if he’s trying to restrain himself from touching me anywhere else, but I don’t care. My hands wind around his neck, and I hold on as I’m kissed within an inch of my life.

  A low rumbling growl vibrates through Damien’s chest, and I feel every movement on my palms, as I lower them from his neck, feeling his hot flesh under my touch.

  When he finally breaks the kiss, I’m breathless. The pulse between my legs is thrumming wildly, needing more, wanting him to do so much more, but he steps back, finally releasing me from his hold that I know will leave bruises.

  “That is the first and last time.” His words are void of any emotion, cold and aloof. His eyes change color before my gaze, from the darker shade to the usual glass-like blue that they always are.

  He pushes by me, into his bedroom, and shuts the door behind him with a resounding thud. I’m still trying to catch my breath, trying to not fall to the ground. My knees are wobbly, as I make my way across the hall to my own bedroom that beckons with safety.

  There’s no use denying I crave him. It’s fierce and hot. Even though my lips are still tingling from the contact with his, I ca
n’t stop wondering just what pain he’s hiding deep inside.

  I lean against the closed door, needing to collect my myriad of thoughts that are only of him. My panties are wet, but my heart aches at his promise, this is the first and the last time. There’s darkness that follows Damien, pain he hides so well, and it felt like he was pouring all his agony into me with a single, heart-stopping, all-consuming kiss.

  As forbidden as it is, I want another one. I want so many more breath-stealing kisses. Shaking my head, I make my way into the bathroom and pull out the box. For a long time, it’s been my only solace in this world of judgments and ridicule because I’m not like everyone else. Not like my mother. I struggle to vocalize my emotions, what I’m feeling in the depths of my soul, and over the years, this has been the escape. It’s been the answer I wanted and needed.

  Cutting has been my screaming admission as to how I’m feeling. It’s been an outlet of all those emotions that bubbled inside me, struggling to be set free. But only I could hear.

  The shiny metal inside that reminds me I can breathe, when it steals my anxiousness and leaves me calm and serene. But the moment I flick open the lid and pick up the blade, I find myself consumed by thoughts of him. Instead of wanting to release the pent-up frustration, I find myself on the mattress, moments later, with my hand between my legs, as I replay the kiss in my mind.

  It doesn’t make sense that Damien’s presence is so strong in my mind. I want to think about the tumultuous emotions I’m feeling, to ponder why he’s affected me so much, but I can’t think of anything but the warmth of his tongue, how his lips molded against mine.

  I’ve never allowed myself to feel like this about anyone before. And as lust courses in my veins, I realize it’s no longer pain that I seek out for release, it’s pleasure. My eyes prick with tears when I realize Damien has fully consumed me, and I don’t know how long it will last.

  But I allow the moment to replay in my mind. It’s as if it’s a movie on a loop, and I can’t stop it. My fingers dance over my slick entrance, and I call out his name as I find my orgasm racing through me. My limbs tremble, my body shudders, and I’m utterly consumed by him. The image of him in those low-slung sweatpants, the feel of his hardness against me. Everything about Damien Thorne is dangerous, but what he doesn’t know is that I love danger. I love to do things I’m not meant to.