Taking Meghan: A Dark Romance (Disciples Book 5)

by Izzy Sweet

  “I need you with me on this,” he groans.

  Another kiss is pressed to my lips, so hard my head starts to tip back. I grab at him, holding on so I don’t fall over.

  His mouth continues to ravish mine until I’m breathless and I’m dizzy. Until I’m struggling to remember why I’m upset with him.

  Pressing me up against the truck, he fits himself between my thighs and drives his tongue into me like he’s fucking me with it. Reminding me of what his cock did to me last night.

  Reminding me of his devotion and commitment to this unholy union.

  When he finally tears his mouth away from mine, it’s like it takes every bit of strength in his body to do so.

  “I need you to put your faith in me, Meghan. Put your faith in me and stand by my side while I do what I’ve been put on this planet to do.”

  My chest rising and falling as I pant for air, my voice sounds breathy as I ask, “What were you put on this planet to do?”

  No shame, no anger, no remorse crosses his face as he answers without hesitation, “Kill.”

  14

  Meghan

  I should be running away, screaming. I know I should be running away and screaming, yet my feet won’t move.

  I stare at Gabriel as he looks at me expectantly. He probably wants me to say something. Give him some kind of reassurance or promise that I’ll stick with him.

  Words fail me though.

  I’ve never been more confused or conflicted.

  After that kiss, my body throbs with the need to press closer to him, while my head just wants to float far, far away from this mess.

  Thankfully, I’m saved by the sudden and jarring ringing of his phone.

  He tries to ignore it, his gaze burning into me, his eyes demanding.

  And I know if he kisses me again, I’ll give in. I’ll make promises my soul can’t keep.

  I’ll doom myself to damnation.

  The phone rings and rings until falling silent, only to start back up again.

  I squirm under Gabriel’s stare as it grows more and more intense before I point out, “You should probably answer that.”

  He lets the phone ring again until it falls silent. It’s not until it starts back up again that he makes a move to answer it. Cursing under his breath, he digs the phone out of his pocket.

  “Yeah?” he snaps in irritation as he places the phone against his ear.

  I can’t hear the person on the other end of the line, but whatever they say causes Gabriel’s face to tighten with anger.

  “No shit,” he mutters and pushes away from me. “I’m not a fucking idiot.”

  His head starts to whip around, his eyes searching as if he’s looking for someone watching us.

  He grunts a few times in what I’m assuming is an answer to the other person, then he hangs up the phone. Shoving the phone back into his pocket, he reaches up and rakes his fingers through his short hair.

  “Creepy fucker,” he grumbles, then his eyes land on me again.

  Sharper than daggers.

  Before I can ask who, he’s dropping his hand and telling me to, “Get in the truck.”

  Hesitating, I ask, “What’s going on?”

  “Too much heat,’ he answers and steps into me. Grabbing me by the hand, he uses it to tug me around the other side of the truck. “We need to head back to the house and lay low for a while.”

  I dig in my heels as he swings the passenger door open and resist his nudge to get inside. “Are we going to get busted?”

  He looks at me for a moment and then his mouth curves into a slow smirk. “Nah. Simon is just being paranoid.”

  He gives me another nudge and I decide I’ve wasted enough time. I’m not entirely sure I believe him about the us getting busted part, but standing around and asking questions isn’t going to prevent it.

  Once I climb into my seat, he makes sure I do up my seatbelt before shutting the door. Then he stomps around the front of the truck and slides into the driver’s seat.

  The drive back to the house is quiet and tense.

  Gabriel keeps shooting little glances at me and I feel his need for a commitment from me hanging like a sword over my head.

  I wish I could alleviate his worry. I wish I could alleviate this ball of tension growing inside me.

  But I can’t.

  I’m so torn up and confused, I don’t even know where to begin. I’m stuck in this awful mental place, trapped somewhere between an existential dilemma and a crisis of conscience.

  After our little heart to heart last night, I thought the worst was over. I thought we were on the same fucking page.

  The two of us against the world.

  I made the decision to trust him to protect me. To trust him not to hurt me.

  But he ruined that illusion, blew the fucker up when he blew up the restaurant.

  As bad as it is, part of me wishes I never witnessed it. Wishes that he did it without me around. Because now I’m back to square fucking one.

  Things I could overlook, that I could forgive, like mowing down those gathered for my wedding in the church, are weighing heavily on me now.

  Was I simply letting them go because all those men wronged me? Because I didn’t actually see him kill anybody? Or did I do it because it was simply in my best interest?

  Fuck… I don’t even know….

  I don’t even know what I believe in anymore.

  Turning my gaze to the window, I look out but I’m not really seeing anything. It’s bright and sunny, but everything is gray. As gray as a fucking graveyard. Before today, the last time I visited a graveyard was to pay respects to my mother.

  Fuck… my mother.

  That hole her loss left inside me throbs and aches. More than anything I wish she was alive. I’d give anything to talk to her, to touch her, to smell her, even if it was only for a few seconds.

  She would know what to do. What decision I should make so I can live with myself after this.

  Despite being married to my father, she was gifted with seeing the world in black and white. Seeing right from wrong.

  My father and her used to joke about her being my father’s angel on his shoulder.

  She kept my father in line, kept him human… up until the feud with the Italians.

  The car begins to slow down, and it takes me a moment to realize we’re pulling into the garage.

  Great. We’re here and I still haven’t figured anything out yet.

  Gabriel inches the truck forward before throwing it in park and shutting off the engine. He hits a button and the garage door rolls down behind us.

  I don’t even have to look over to know his attention is riveted on me. I can feel it bearing down on me, the pressure of it nearly crushing me into my seat.

  Afraid I might crack, I undo my seatbelt and grab the door handle. I push my door open and hop out before Gabriel can stop me.

  A second after my feet hit the ground, I hear his door pop open.

  “Meghan…” he says, his voice deep with a hint of warning.

  Rushing up to the door that leads inside the house, I say over my shoulder, “I’m not trying to run. I just need some space, Gabriel… some time to think...”

  I take the two steps leading up to the door in one step and grab the handle.

  My fingers twist, and nothing happens.

  Of course the damn thing is locked and I don’t have a key.

  It’s the fucking story of my life.

  Groaning, I lean my forehead against the door, fighting the urge to bang my head against it.

  It seems no matter how hard I try to be in control of my own destiny, the universe itself will step in to stop me.

  I’m fucking cursed to be at the mercy of men.

  Gabriel’s door slams shut behind me and I jump in surprise, rattled by the loud noise. Heart pounding in my throat, slowly I spin around to face him.

  All it takes is one look to know he’s not going to give me the space I’m asking for.

&nbs
p; Stalking forward, he moves with the sinister grace of a natural born predator that knows he’s at the top of the food chain. Unlike most of the big men I’ve come across during my short life, there’s no clumsiness or overcompensation in his movements.

  No, he’s a man that’s completely comfortable in his skin. He probably even relishes the advantage it gives him.

  “Gabriel, please…” I can’t help but plead one last time. “I just need a little time.”

  Eyes nearly white-hot with heat, they land on my face and I shrink back.

  “There’s no time, Meghan,” he says with a finality that causes my heart to instantly drop to my stomach. “I’ve already wasted ten years of my life. I won’t waste another second because your fear is holding you back.”

  He steps up to me and for once we’re nearly eye to eye.

  “I’m not afraid,” I bluff, forcing myself to meet his gaze.

  “Don’t lie to me, beautiful,” he growls and reaches out, grabbing me roughly and pulling me close. His knuckles brush tenderly down my cheek. “It’s not a good look on you.”

  He wants the truth? Fuck it. I won’t lie.

  Fighting my body’s need to give into a shiver, I tell him exactly what I told him last night, but seriously mean it this time. “I don’t think I can do this.”

  In fact, I’m pretty sure I can’t.

  I watch his emotions blow across his eyes like storm clouds rolling in. Anger flashes like lightning across clouds of determination.

  Instinctively sensing the impending danger, I try to squirm my way out of his grip.

  “Fine,” he grits out between his teeth, his hold on me tightening. “I’ll do it for the both of us.”

  Before I can ask what the fuck he means by that, he’s picking me up off my feet and throwing me over his shoulder.

  “What the hell, Gabriel?” I huff out as my stomach meets his shoulder.

  “Stay still, I don’t want to drop you,” he growls and gives my butt a hard smack.

  I stiffen in surprise, the pain radiating through my cheeks.

  Did he really just spank me?

  The unmistakable soft beeps of a code being punched in hits my ears and a second later I feel a breeze of warm air as the door to the house swings open.

  He moves forward and my self-preservation kicks in.

  “Put me down, asshole,” I snarl and kick at him.

  Grunting, he ignores my attempts to hurt him.

  Hands finding purchase on his back, I try to push up, to slide out of his hold, but he suddenly lifts me up as if he’s adjusting my weight. Tossing me into the air like I’m a sack of potatoes.

  My stomach leaves his shoulder before I come back down in an even worse position.

  I’m so far down his back now, I’m afraid I’m going to fall on my damn head.

  “Put me down!” I screech, both furious and terrified.

  “No,” he says, his arm tightening across the back of my legs.

  As he stomps through the house, I have to grab at his damn pants to keep from bouncing all over the place.

  Tears of anger well up in my eyes.

  Just when I thought he couldn’t push me further past my breaking point, he has to go and do something like this.

  My feet kick uselessly at him as I helplessly watch the floor scroll by. It’s probably stupid of me to keep fighting him, given my precarious position, but I just can’t help it.

  “I hate you,” I mutter when he comes to a stop.

  “No, you don’t,” he sighs and pushes a door open.

  The hardwood floor transitions into carpet.

  “I do!” I insist.

  The door slams shut behind us. He takes two steps forward, and before I can prepare myself, he’s tossing me onto a bed.

  I let out a shrill screech as I land on the mattress on my back.

  I bounce once, twice, before my body can get its bearings. Scrambling into action, I try to sit up only to have him push me back down by the shoulders.

  “You don’t hate me, Meghan,” he says, looming over me.

  He keeps me pinned downed until I stop struggling. Until I accept that fighting his strength is futile.

  Then he brushes some of the hair out of my eyes. “You just wish you did.”

  The truth of those words cut right through me in a way that leaves me shaking. I do wish I could hate him. I wish I could despise him for the situation he’s put me in with all my heart.

  Lord knows I’ve tried, but for some reason I can’t.

  He’s just like every other monster in my life… and yet he’s not.

  And I can’t fucking figure out what makes him different.

  Taking in his face—his piercing eyes, his strong jaw, that bit of blonde scruff—I decide it’s not his looks. He’s fucking edible, yes. I’d love to sink my teeth into every inch of his body and bite down, but Alexei is arguably almost just as handsome.

  His fingers tighten around my shoulders and his gaze continues to bore down on me.

  It’s certainly not his personality. He’s just as overbearing and bossy as every other man I’ve ever dealt with.

  He’s no saint, that’s for sure. Willing to kill… and even taking pleasure in it.

  I want to say it’s because he’s tried to help me in his own, selfish way, but I’m not even sure it’s that.

  No, it’s something else… It’s this damn spark between us. This intangible thing I can’t control, manipulate, destroy, or wish away, no matter how hard I try.

  Even now it throbs inside me, pulsing through my limbs.

  “Okay, I don’t hate you,” I grit out. “But I certainly don’t like you. So please, get the fuck off me.”

  He seems to relax once I admit I don’t hate him. The look in his eyes even softens to something close to tenderness.

  But he doesn’t move. He remains poised above me.

  And the longer he looks at me, the more aware I become of the position I’m in. I’m pinned beneath him, completely at his mercy. We both know that he can do anything he wants to me.

  We both know I can’t stop him.

  For some strange, awful reason, my body finds this terribly exciting. My breath begins to quicken and a tingling sensation creeps over my skin.

  I try to ignore it, but the longer he just stares down at me, the worse it gets.

  Fuck, why does he have to be so damn handsome?

  “Gabriel, please get off me,” I plead softly, switching tactics and hoping playing nice will get me my way.

  “Well, since you asked so nicely…” he drawls out and suddenly pushes up.

  He rises above me and grabs the bottom of his shirt before tugging it up and over his head.

  Tossing the shirt away, his attention snaps back to me as I gasp.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I ask, frozen in place.

  The sudden sight of his bare chest and all the naked skin is such a shock that I forget that I can move now.

  “Finishing what we started in the parking lot,” he says as he reaches down to undo his pants.

  “We didn’t start anything in the parking lot,” I sputter.

  I know I should look away as his fingers yank down his zipper, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I watch, almost entranced, as he shoves his pants down to the floor and steps out of them.

  Straightening, his expression darkens as he says, “You tried to run…”

  “Yeah? So?” I push out of my throat.

  The damn thing is closing up as my eyes take all of his glorious body in. He’s so damn big, all over, and so damn intimidating.

  My thighs twitch with the muscle memory of him between them, and I squeeze my knees together in an attempt to stop it.

  Lashes lowering, his already dark expression twists into something that’s downright feral. “Never run from me, Meghan.”

  Suddenly he lunges for me.

  Before I’m even aware of what I’m doing, I’m scrambling backward. My brain screaming for me to flee.


  I don’t get far enough away, though. Grabbing me by the leg, he yanks me down the bed.

  “Not only does it make me angry,” he grunts as he comes down on top of me.

  I smack and slap at him as he releases my leg and slides up my body. I get one good slap in on his cheek and we both freeze.

  I slapped him so hard my palm stings, and I seriously consider smacking him again, but fear holds me back.

  One heartbeat passes, then another.

  A slow, maniacal grin stretches across his lips. “It makes me hard.”

  Grabbing up my hands like it’s no effort at all, he pins them above my head.

  I writhe and twist, trying to escape his grip.

  Bringing his weight down on top of me, he rolls his hips, his hard cock grinding into my sex. “It makes me need to stake my claim on you.”

  Despite my panic, that rolling grind of his cock sends a spike of pure pleasure through me, and all it does is make me angry.

  Did I say I didn’t hate him? Well, I think I change my mind…

  “You already own me, asshole. We’re married,” I snarl at him. “What more do you want?”

  Head dipping down, he licks and nips at my ear before he purrs, “I need to be inside you, Meghan.”

  A wave of pure weakness flows over me and for a moment I’m dangerously close to melting beneath him. But then that fear, that pure, icy cold terror of all the things he could do to me rears its ugly head.

  Switching both of my wrists into one of his hands, he begins to lick, nip, and suckle his way down my neck.

  “I need to be buried so tight and deep, I know you can never get away from me again.”

  My toes curl inside my boots even as my brain strains to think of a way to get him to stop before it’s too late.

  If I let him in again… if I open myself up… he’ll completely destroy me.

  His hand drags down my side and then his fingers grab at the waistband of my pants.

  “I’m sorry,” I blurt out in a panic. “I promise I won’t run again.”

  Slowly his head lifts up and his eyes clash with my eyes. It takes only one breath before I see doubt and mistrust staring right back at me.

  I swear it looks like he can tell I’m lying.