She sucks hard. Her cheeks hollow out, but she doesn’t choke like most women. There is a challenge in her stare. She wants to give in, but she desires to hold back. Push and pull, it’s a dangerous game she plays.
While she works me with her mouth and hand, I close my eyes and let my mind turn off. That’s what I came here for: escape, release. When shit with Missy got to be too much, I would come here to get away from it all.
The concussion really fucked with me, because the eyes staring up at me as she licks the head of my cock are the same blue eyes I woke up to in the hospital.
I almost dare myself to ask her name, but I don’t. The Den isn’t a place for names, only memories.
Just as my balls tingle and tighten, she pops off with a smile. Standing up, she shimmies over my rock-hard cock. The sensitive end pulses with need for her to finish the job.
“Games are not smart to play in a place like this, angel.”
Her eyes never leaving mine, she challenges, “I’m no one’s angel.”
“So you continue to say.” Leaning down, I pull up my pants before taking her by the hand and guiding her to a corner wall on the far side. “What are you here for?”
She looks all around me. Cupping her chin, I stop the movement. Her eyes meet mine in defiance.
“I’m not here to dominate. I’m here to control. I don’t need to own you. I don’t need you to give me power. I simply want to control our time together. Eyes on me at all times, angel.”
Her chest rises and falls in rapid succession as she breathes deeply. I back her up to the wall, and her hands come up around my neck, her thumb rubbing against the cobra head tattoo.
I am ready to attack her when she rolls up on her toes, and her lips meet mine. Not one to give in, I open my mouth and invade. Roughly, I tangle my tongue with hers, not holding back. Trailing my hands down her back, I grip her ass and scoop her up. Her legs wrap around me, and her heels dig into the backs of my thighs.
Her nails dig into my scalp, and I get off on the pain. Public debauchery isn’t my thing. From her shy demeanor, I don’t think it’s hers, either. However, we are both lost to the moment and the sensations.
She gives as much as I take, clawing at me for more. I rock my erection against her core, fucking her through her clothes. She throws her head back, hitting the wall as she slides over me.
Reaching down her pants from behind, I find her dripping wet. I slide my middle finger into her heat, and she bucks wildly, leaning forward and biting into my neck.
I need to be inside her.
With my hands still behind her, I slide her pants off her ass just enough to slide into her, since my pants are still undone from the suck-off at the bar. I tease her entrance and pull back just long enough to cover myself with a condom from my back pocket. As soon as I’m covered, I pull her up so that her legs are high on the sides of my waist and her pussy is lined up with my dick, and I slam into her.
She melts into me, giving me all of her weight and control as I slide in and out. Her pussy walls milk me as I look to her eyes then still.
“Eyes on me, angel. The orgasm I’m about to give you is all mine,” I growl into her ear as my frustration builds. I’m balls deep, and she gives in to me, but all the while, she is watching someone else?
Fuck no.
Her eyes meet mine, and I roll my hips to hit the sweet spot of her pussy and slam home, beating my dick into her. She shakes around me, holding my neck. Then I hear her whimper as I feel her body give in to the release.
“That one’s mine. Cobra strikes and consumes.”
She slips her legs down, my aching cock popping out of her. She watches someone behind us, no longer in the moment with me. She pulls her pants up, shyly avoiding my gaze.
My whole body is in pain from my injuries and my need to release. With a fierce need, I take off the condom and stroke myself. Closing my eyes, I envision her blue depths as I finish off. In my mind, her dark hair becomes the blond of Lorraine’s. It’s been too long since I’ve seen her because I swear these two could easily be one in the same. Clearly they are not, Lorraine was too skittish in the parking lot to find herself in a place like this. I open my eyes as I squeeze the last drop from my cock. Back in the moment with the raven-haired beauty before me.
With my come on my fingers, I dip them into her distracted mouth. “I don’t know how you do a one-eighty so fast, but that’s my come in your mouth, my cock that stretched your body, and my orgasm you’re still feeling.” Cockily, I tip her chin up to make her eyes meet mine again. “Next time, angel, it will be inside that pussy of yours. Next time, you won’t have any distractions. Your only thought will be whether or not you can handle another round.” I lean down and kiss her, tasting myself in her mouth. “And you will handle round after motherfucking round, baby.”
I marked her. Distraction or not, she is still going to feel me for days to come, and I will stay on her mind. Her eyes, those eyes will haunt me for nights to come. I consider this fair play.
I came here tonight for a release and found a whole new challenge. Tonight is just the beginning. I hope she is ready.
There is a twitch to her eyebrow, and then she brings her hands around my neck, pulling me to her. My mind races, unable to keep up with the whiplash in her behavior.
When she makes a mewling sound in my ear, I’m hard again and don’t give a fuck about the game she is playing. My body craves being inside her more than my next fight.
She moves to push my pants down again, and I still as she cradles herself into me. Something is off with her. The feel of her near me, the smell of her perfume, and the fact that I didn’t finish the way I wanted have me ready to be balls deep inside her heat once again. The hot and cold just to get hot again game is one many newbies find themselves unintentionally playing. She needs to calm down. I’ll give her what she craves without pushing her beyond her limits.
“I know this isn’t your thing,” I whisper, thinking she needs encouragement. “You’re a good girl who made me lose control. I have to have you right here, right now, in front of everyone.” It’s the truth. She’s got some sort of black magic that has me out of my zone.
She looks around me nervously. “It is my thing. I can do better.” She rolls up on her toes to kiss me.
I growl against her lips, “No, it’s not. Don’t lie to me. I don’t judge you. I don’t look down on you. This thing, even if it’s just tonight, is open and honest. You and I don’t lie to each other—not fucking ever—you understand?”
She nods her head with her eyes still scanning the area around us.
Anger fills me that she is thinking of someone else right now.
I press my body to hers, keeping her hidden in our corner. “You think any of these fuckers could make you come like I did?” I reach up, running my hand down her long, slender throat. Squeezing without cutting off her air, I lean in and whisper, “Do you think any of them could read you like me? Do you think any of them would be able to tell that you’re not into the hardcore shit and not push you beyond your limits?”
I can feel her pulse pounding as her heart rate goes up. She blinks rapidly as I loosen my grip before rubbing my calloused fingers over the sensitive skin behind her ears then all the way down to her shoulders.
“I can promise you this, pet.” I lace the word with the implied threat of violence. “My hands may be rough, but they will never be harsh. I can damn sure guarantee that any one of these motherfuckers would prefer to tie you up and flog your sweet, little ass until your skin is on the verge of splitting.” I caress her neck. “I don’t want to make you bleed, angel. I just want to make sure I leave you bruised and maybe a little battered inside so that tomorrow you remember it was my cock inside you. I want you to remember never to walk into a place like this without the man who not only owns your pussy, but will protect the lines you aren’t ready to cross. You don’t belong in a place like—”
“Yes, I do,” she says, trying to sound strong.
r /> “The fuck you do,” I say, gripping her throat a little more tightly. “The only place you belong is under a man like me.”
Confliction and confusion dance in her crystal-blue eyes. “Like you?” she asks as her pulse quickens.
“Only me,” I say, loosening my grip before bending down and taking her mouth as I lift her up.
She easily submits to me this time. Fear and trepidation are gone, replaced by lust and need.
I slide her pants down enough to get in there again and release myself. It’s a dangerous game, but I can’t help sliding into her tight pussy without taking the time for a condom.
Skin on skin, I watch her eyes roll back in her head as I slide in and out. When she contains herself from the sensations, she once again looks over my shoulder, out into the crowd behind us.
Angry, I pin her to the wall, sliding all the way out to the very tip of my cock then slamming back into her. She cries out as her pain mixes with pleasure. Before she can decide whether she loves it or hates it, though, I do it again.
And again.
Over and over, I pound into her until she can’t keep her eyes open or support her own weight around me. When I feel the buildup, I slide out and release my come onto the floor.
She drops her legs to the ground and holds herself steady against the wall as she fights to calm her breathing. Then, sliding her pants back up, she moves past me.
I tuck my dick back into my pants and zip up quickly in order to follow her as she walks toward the women’s bathroom.
I want to know her fucking name. Any other time, I wouldn’t give a shit. Those eyes, though…There is something in her eyes.
Patience has never been a character trait ascribed to me. Now is no different.
When I feel like a fool for standing outside the women’s restroom like a fucking puppy dog, I grab a submissive by the arm. She looks up at me and licks her lips in desire.
“The dark-haired girl in all black and thigh-high boots—she okay in there?” I bark out.
The bottle redhead in front of me pouts, and my stomach churns. “She freaked and climbed out the damn window.” She traces her manicured nails over my neck. “Whatever she can’t handle, I’ll willingly do, master.”
Master, ugh. I don’t aim to be a master. I aim to be a leader. I’m a dominant man, but I don’t need a pet under my control.
Thinking of my woman tonight, I like the challenge.
“If I wanted a pet, I’d get a dog.” I release the redhead then take off out of The Lion’s Den and head down the block to where everyone parks.
I catch a glimpse of her as she gets into a black car. Hurrying, I climb in mine and take off behind her. It’s not long before she turns into a paid parking garage. I try to follow her, yet once she gets out of the vehicle, I lose her while trying to find my own spot. Therefore, I move back to her location.
When I can’t get a feel on her, I go back to my car. As I pull out of the garage, I realize I’m not far from Lorraine’s house.
Her eyes come back to mind, and I hit the steering wheel, thinking of the mess I have made.
Tonight, I fucked a stranger raw while, in my mind, I gave her Lorraine’s eyes and face. Sure, the hair was wrong, but the eyes, those blue eyes, were my angel’s.
How hard did I get hit in the head? I should take my ass back to the hotel and call it a night.
I don’t.
Instead, I make the turn onto her road and find myself silently sitting across the street from her house. This can’t be healthy, but I can’t seem to pull away.
I watch from outside as the lights seem to come on in a sequence. I make out the form of a dark-haired woman carrying a bat.
I get out of my car and make my way closer to the house. When I see the blond ponytail of Lorraine fall to the floor, panic fills me, thinking she is hurt.
Someone is in the house and has hurt her.
I rush in through the front door after easily picking the lock. Then I disarm the alarm by slicing a few wires with my pocket knife, without even thinking about how I have no explanation for why I am here. Instincts take over. I have a drive I have never felt before to get my ass inside to save her.
Chapter 9
Lo
When his hand covers my mouth, I immediately scream. My body trembles, my muscles tighten, and I know I’m going to die. I am going to die just like they did, inside what was once a sanctuary to my family. A house, a haven, a home to a middle-class working family with two daughters, two cats, two cars, and too much love and happiness, just to be silenced with a blade.
It became a tomb, a hell, a house haunted by the gruesome and savage slaughter of a family. A house I couldn’t bear to sell or leave because of the good memories still here.
Now, I am going to die just like they did.
The fight response comes on immediately. I claw, kick, and try with every ounce of strength I have to get free. I don’t know how strong I am or that I even have it in me to fight, but I do.
I fight for three, and I fight for me.
My attacker’s hand is covering my mouth, so I know the screams aren’t alerting anyone, but I refuse to die like this.
He is saying something, but I can’t hear anything except my screams and the sound of my own heartbeat thrashing in my ears.
I see them. I see them in my sister’s room. The blood, the mess, the death. I see Daddy tied to a chair with his throat slit, his white, button-down shirt covered in blood. I see Mom lying on the bed, her clothes sliced apart. She has cuts on her thighs, across her exposed pelvic area, and on her breasts. I see how her eyes are wide open, and she isn’t breathing. I see my sister’s dead, half-naked body bent over the end of the bed, blood staining down her inner thighs, her body and her throat sliced, too.
I see death.
I hear my own heart still beating. I scream. I fight. I thrash. Then my attacker drops to the floor, still gripping me firmly.
I hear his voice, but it’s muted. My ears are filled with heartbeats and screaming and thoughts of how to survive.
I can’t move my arms. The arm of my reaper surrounds me, trapping me. The leg of my soul’s harvester wraps around me from behind, holding my legs down so I can no longer kick.
I can’t get free. I can’t move. I find it hard to breathe. I feel a wave of nausea, then heat, then cold, and then my body aches from fighting.
I close my eyes more tightly, and I see them. I see them surrounded by light, their hands outstretched toward me.
I miss them terribly. I miss them so much my heart aches.
It hurts. The pain inside hurts almost unbearably. Then…I feel…nothing.
—
I smell that familiar sterile smell and hear the beeping and hushed bustle that make me feel safe. I am warm. I am—
I gasp and try to sit up, but Dr. Sam Bennett holds me still.
“Easy, Lorraine,” Dr. Bennett says quietly.
I look around, confused. My eyes immediately feel heavy. I smell the ammonia again, now knowing this is not a dream.
“You’re okay, Lorraine.” Dr. Bennett’s smooth, soft voice confirms what I now know.
I passed out, blacked out. It hasn’t happened in a while.
“Do you know where you are?”
“Henry Ford.” Embarrassment washes over me as I sit up again.
“Slow down, okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say as I shake my head.
“Nurses definitely make the worst patients,” he kids.
I look up at him and force a smile. “I apologize, Dr. Bennett.”
“Do you know how you got here?” he asks, looking down at his clipboard.
Oh, God, I think. I was attacked is on the tip of my tongue when I hear a familiar, gruff voice from the other side of the bed.
“Of course she knows.”
I look over at him, and his eyes narrow.
“Meet a new friend?” Dr. Bennett briefly looks up at me, and I can see he is not impressed.
&nb
sp; “We’ve actually met twice, haven’t we, Lo?”
Jason walks around and stands next to me. I’m confused, not understanding. His eyes narrow, warning me.
“Here at the hospital, and again tonight when we were out”—he pauses, and I am terrified—“together.”
I swallow back fear, confusion, and embarrassment.
I look up at Dr. Bennett’s suspicious eyes. “Will you give me just a minute?”
Dr. Bennett looks at Jason then back at me. “I’ll be back.”
“With release papers,” Jason states.
Dr. Bennett straightens up to his full five-foot-eleven stature and looks at Jason. “We’ll see.” Then he walks out.
Jason walks over and closes the door behind him before he turns and stares at me, crossing his arms over his chest and looking me up and down slowly. Then he sighs, grabs the stool, and pulls it over so it is sitting inches from me. He sits down and looks up, running his hands through his hair.
“What the fuck?” he mutters.
“Was it you? Were you the one who broke into my house?” I gasp out, interrupting him. “The one who—”
“I came to save your ass.” He looks at me, shakes his head, and then looks up at the ceiling.
I’m afraid of what he will say next.
“Thank you. I mean, I guess—”
He holds his hand up and stops me. “You passed out.”
“Yeah, it used to happen a lot.” I am horribly uncomfortable. I shake my head. “Thank you for bringing me—”
He leans in. “Shut it down.” Then he stands up and leans over me like he is going to say something, but he groans, balls his fists, and turns his back on me.
“Jason, I—”
He whips around. “Not another word. Not one…unless you want to do this here…where you work.”
It’s a threat. He’s threatening me.
I nod. “Okay. I—”
“Shut the fuck up, Lo.”
Lo, the name freezes me. It’s what she used to call me. I feel tears building down deep inside. I have no clue what to do next.
The door opens and Sam Bennett walks back in. He stands toe-to-toe with Jason, eyeball to eyeball.
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